circled her waist. One hand lay on his shoulder. A hand that possessed only three knobby fingers.

“I’m such a fuckup,” Bastarache mumbled. “Such a fuckup.”

“Shhh,” the woman said. “I know you love me.”

A shaft of fast-dropping sun flamed the dark curls framing the woman’s head. Slowly, she raised her chin.

Agonizing realization curdled my innards.

The woman’s cheeks and forehead were lumpy and hard. Her upper lip stretched to a nose that was asymmetrically concave.

“Evangeline,” I said, overwhelmed with emotion.

The woman looked my way. Something flashed in her eyes.

“I’ve seen the Queen of England,” she rasped, chest heaving, tears snaking serpentine trails through her flesh.



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Вы читаете Bones to Ashes
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