His starched shirt, tie and dress pants were immaculate. I stood and seemed to naturally slip into the familiar hug he gave me."It's been so long," he...said warmly. If there was any apprehension on his part, he was covering it well. I smiled weakly.After our last night together, he called me a couple of times. This was back before everyone and their sister had a cell phone plan with unlimited minutes and about two lifetimes before text messaging. By that time, McKayla and I were an item, and I. Passing onto the hair was tricky but done. A small puff of their poison heavily diluted with saliva and forelegs made contact with anaesthetised skin.(The Companions had had a large number of Trainees on whom to experiment — the Trainees had regarded the Companions as being simply the producers of black spider silk. Widow Smeaton hadn't.)Thus Clare was aware of Saint's problem and his solution, but she let him tell it.Saint rolled the Jamaican Blue over his taste buds as he organised his. More

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