By Kieron Gillen, Marguerite Bennett

Spurred by means of revenge, Angela races to satisfy Enchantress's endgame because the gates of Faerie are wrenched open!

The useless stroll and converse (and inform poor jokes), and Kieron and Kody Chamberlain lead the revels, as Angela embarks at the Wild Hunt for Serah's soul!

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Something. I couldn‘t even be sure of the gender. ‖ I struggled to answer. ―I hadn‘t planned on it,‖ I said. I stepped back into the hall and let the door shut after me. I gripped Claude‘s arm. ‖ When he didn‘t answer, I turned to my great-uncle. ‖ ―Sookie, our dearest,‖ Dermot said, after a moment‘s silence. ‖ I said, nodding at Bellenos. ―He won‘t be with us,‖ Claude said. ‖ You only needed a night watchman if you were afraid of an attack. More trouble. I could hardly stand the prospect of it.

All buffed and polished, I put on my Merlotte‘s outfit, sorry to cover up my toenails with socks and sneakers. I was trying not to think, and I was doing a pretty good job of it. I had about thirty minutes to spare, so I turned on the TV and clicked on my DVR button to view yesterday‘s Jeopardy! We‘d started turning the bar TV to it every day, because the bar patrons got some enjoyment out of guessing the answers. Jane Bodehouse, our longestlasting alcoholic, turned out to be an expert on old movies, and Terry Bellefleur surely knew his sports trivia.

I shuddered and looked away. Through an open door I glimpsed a large dressing room. There was a long counter running along one wall, which was lined with a brightly lit mirror. The counter was strewn with cosmetics, makeup brushes, blow-dryers, hair curlers and hair straighteners, bits of costume, razors, a magazine or two, wigs, cell phones . . the assorted debris of people whose jobs depended on their appearance. Some high stools were set haphazardly around the room, and there were tote bags and shoes everywhere.

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