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... h a second bowl, followed by tea. Dinner was the customary village stew which Ludmila had taught her maid how to make. A roll of bread accompanied each bowl, and a rich aroma wafted up to tempt the appetite. She waited as Lady Shalltear studied the dish in front of her.

“I hope it’s to your liking,” Ludmila said. “I remembered you eating a biscuit the first night, and you can drink tea but, as you might imagine, we don’t have any experience in serving meals for the Undead.”

“Our ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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