The booming echo of Eric's voice is both the best thing and the worst thing Pam could ever hear right now. She tried. She tried, but the pain was too great.
The Magister turns to Eric, a sneer on his lips, a cruel slash against the white of his face.
"'Oh, you've got the wrong man.' 'My dog ate my homework.' 'I saw Goody Osburn with the devil.' Excuses are one thing I can assure you do not get better with age."
He points his cane to one of his henchmen, holding the case of V.
"Do you deny the blood was being sold in your area?"
Pam, trembling with weakness, meets Eric's eyes. She's still with him. She's not going to crack. She would withstand this pain if it meant buying him time.
no subject
The Magister turns to Eric, a sneer on his lips, a cruel slash against the white of his face.
"'Oh, you've got the wrong man.' 'My dog ate my homework.' 'I saw Goody Osburn with the devil.' Excuses are one thing I can assure you do not get better with age."
He points his cane to one of his henchmen, holding the case of V.
"Do you deny the blood was being sold in your area?"
Pam, trembling with weakness, meets Eric's eyes. She's still with him. She's not going to crack. She would withstand this pain if it meant buying him time.