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... ndles arranged around what looked like a makeshift altar. Three women sat in ornate chairs arranged in a semicircle, their heads tilted back and their eyes closed. They couldn’t have been older than twenty-five—college students, maybe, or young professionals who’d saved up for expensive concert tickets.

The lead singer of Red Serenade knelt beside the nearest woman, his mouth pressed against her neck, feeding with the unhurried patience of something that had been perfecting this particul ...

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