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He stopped speaking and stared. The apparitions grew larger and closer, moving forward through the assembled press who moved aside to make room for their passage but took no notice otherwise.He staggered backwards a step, reeling. He nearly fell as his foot caught the edge of a stair behind him. The apparitions were upon him now, surrounding him, hissing and whispering foul epithets to him, accusing him of foul complicity. He gasped and held out his arms to ward them off. They closed their ranks, their cadaverous faces thrust into his. Their mouths opened and exhaled a noxious cloud of green gas that reeked and tasted of death. It surrounded him, choking and blinding him. He was nauseated, his stomach heaving as if to vomit all it held, but his throat was choked shut. His bile rose and burned like the fires of Hell but he could expell nothing.Bishop Cruxton flailed wildly and fell unconscious on the steps, his head striking the edge of the stone to open a terrible wound on his bald. We even could have walked, but judging from Anya's impish smile, she must have driven purely to throw me off the track."More of your grandmother's magic?" I guessed.Anya smiled. "Sort of. Grandmother has a deal with the condo owner. The developer is... of the same mind as Grandmother, when it comes to young women and their right to privacy. A certain number of units are made available to Bikini Beach staff, and for emergency cases. Where you live as Jeff might not be as safe for you as Daisy. So, for as long as you're Daisy, you live here. I hope you like it."Like it? Compared to the dump I had been living in, it was the Taj Mahal!A kitchen with eat-in dining room attached. Living room, bath, balcony, and even a guest bedroom. Some of the deepest, plushest carpeting I could ever remember walking on -- and, best of all, air conditioning
