Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. There were too many kills, too many unsolved files in too many cabinets. Smith's melody had subsided. They were familiar but more massive. His brute strength surged through her veins, she could feel his energy in her heart, his life force stolen like candy from a baby. He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could.
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