“Okay, I’ll fucking kill him now then…”
Julia’s face coiled into a sneer, breaking her beauty into a visage of violence, “He is still your weakness John. You know that you can’t kill him until the dark moon and then, only at the height of the Great Rite… Oh… don’t worry… I’ll kill him, I’ll enjoy offering the little bastard’s heart to the Dark One.”
“I bet you will… But for fuck’s sake, he’s my brother!”
“Enough, this is not for discussion! Besides the shit is somehow caught up in this thing with Jonathon.
“”…I wonder, why he called Paul “Aleister”?”
The puzzle was set, somehow the Nosferatu had known Paul, or believed he did. How could that be?
“Look, I’m going back to the flat in case he returns tonight. Don’t do anything stupid.”
She grabs his hair and pulls his lips to hers, kissing him deeply, their tongues entwined. Then she throws his head backwards and, briskly, coldly, turns away. She walks from the sanctity of the Temple, and merges into the encroaching twilight, the herald of a new night.
© 1990 & 2006 Andrew M Boylan