She opened her mouth to answer, but he was already kissing her. She had kissed him so many times—soft gentle kisses, hard and desperate ones, brief brushes of the lips that said good-bye, and kisses that seemed to go on for hours—and this was no different. The way the memory of someone who had once lived in a house might linger even after they were gone, like a sort of psychic imprint, her body remembered Jace. Remembered the way he tasted, the slant of his mouth over hers, his scars under her fingers, the shape of his body under her hands.

She wondered why she’d ever thought trusting someone who wore that much eyeliner was a good idea.

He was a vampire now. He was supposed to have eternity. But what he had was days.

You’re in my bones and my blood and my heart,” he said. “I’d have to tear myself open to let you go.

They both believed in her even when she didn’t believe in herself.

If one could look this fabulous, one had an obligation to.

For love is as strong as death.