text post from 9 years ago
The sun had nearly peaked over the horizon when the hunters limped through the manor door. Nicolas watched from the balcony, the teacup in his hand rattling against its saucer, his jaw clenched tight.
Cathy supported Wes’ weight, both of them sprayed with blood, and Father Turpin guided an exhausted and bloodied Leigh over the threshold, his hand on Leigh’s back.
