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"All red things?" she asked. The gold chain dangling from her fingers, pomegranate stones over the street grate. So easy to slip through the gutter to the darkness below.
"All red things," he confirmed, "and all things underground, the riches your mother never dreamed."
And here he winked, an easy grin slow from one corner of his mouth to the next. "You're rolling for a share of the killings, sweetheart."
I'm making a deal with the devil, Persephone thought. She only had half a mind to run.

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