The more they fought him, the stronger his power spiked and billowed, as if every blow, whether his or theirs, powered him up. A hundred years later and someone gazes upon you as if you were heaven itself, but you know in your heart of hearts that it's not heaven you're offering them, it's hell. I looked at him. Something about the sound of it and the smell of it leaves me fighting not to throw up, too.
Names? I shook my head. Vampires do not die when buried, either, Requiem said. I didn't get much chance to see Micah from a distance. You say it, like it has a name.
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