CONROY’s P.O.V

　　Acting hastily, I drew the fur cloak to the side and unfastened the girl’s kirtle and tugged it down her shoulders, carefully tugging her limp arms through the neck opening to finally yank the garment down to her legs, then off. I saw that the edges of the frock were ruined with the mud outside.

　　“What are you, my Killer mate?” I asked in bewilderment for she looked dead to the world.

　　“Had she gotten up while I was ...