Peter stared speechless at the phone, feeling like he was losing his hold on reality as he squeezed his head harder.
“But then again,” the Garrou voice said, “it wasn’t really you who planned it, was it? It was Angie. She always was the brains of the operation. And the beauty. Hell, she burned down my house and killed my demon, so she was pretty much the brawn and the balls of it, too. Matter of fact… you were always just a worthless hanger-on, weren’t you?”
Peter wanted to scream that these insults weren’t true, that their love was shared equally, but he decided not to give into the temptation and let whatever this thing was feel like it had won.
“Speaking of Angie,” the voice whispered, “want to know something? I have her here with me, in Hell. Turns out your darlin’ little Angel was
