You belong to the biblical race of Nephilim. Your real father was an angel who fell from heaven. You're half mortal." The boy's dark eyes lifted, meeting Chauncey's. "Half fallen angel." Chauncey's tutor's voice drifted up from the recesses of his mind, reading passages from the Bible, telling of a deviant race created when angels cast from heaven mated with mortal women. A fearsome and powerful race. A chill that wasn't entirely revulsion crept through Chauncey. "Who are you?

It would be like a cleansing diet. The problem was, the only diet I'd ever been on backfired. Once I tried to go an entire month without chocolate. Not one bite. At the end of two weeks, I broke down and binged on more chocolate that I would have eaten in three months. I hoped my chocolate-free diet didn't foreshadow what would happen if I tried to avoid Patch.

The truth is scary, but knowing nothing is crippling.

I couldn't stand here, hanging on, when the very thing I held disappeared more with each passing day.

Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't.

Before I forget, here's your homework. Where do you want me to put it?" She pointed at the trash can. "Right there would be fine.

How did you get in?" "I move in mysterious ways." "God moves in mysterious ways. You move like lightening-here one moment, gone the next.