The Threshold Of Blood And Citrusthe Scent Of Lemon Polish Was Not Merely A Cleaning Agent In The Moretti Mansion; It Was A Psychological Barrier. It Was The Sterile, Stinging Fragrance Of Propriety Applied Over Ancient Sins, Designed To Make Marble Floors Look Like Mirrors And Mahogany Desks Look Innocent. But On That Crisp October Morning In Boston, The Crisp Citrus Smell Couldn’t Mask The Metallic Tang Of Fresh Blood, Adrenaline, And The Sulfurous Scent Of Raw Fear.