You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves.
When they’d lifted me away from the car, I had seen the deep dent in the tan car’s bumper — a very distinct dent that fit the contours of Edward’s shoulders… as if he had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame…
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