The Golden Ritual
Thorne, get in here before the light goes out. The voice came from the shadow of the doorway, sharp and thin as a wire. You turned, your boots scraping the gravel, and saw Clara standing in the archway of the St. Jude’s clinic annex. She was small, dressed in a black dress that looked like it had been pressed flat by a heavy iron, her eyes bright with a feverish intensity. Behind her, the...
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