Tessa had lain down beside him and slid her arm beneath his head, and put her head on his chest,listening to the ever-weakening beat of his heart. And in the shadows they'd whispered, reminding each other of the stories only they knew. Of the girl who had hit over the head with a water jug the boy who had come to rescue her, and how he had fallen in love with her in that instant. Of a ballroom and a balcony and the moon sailing like a ship untethered through the sky. Of the flutter of the wings of the clockwork Angel. Of holy water and blood.

I care about you," Simon said. "I always cared about you.

Goodness," Tessa said to the back of his head. "If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions.

Maybe you just never knew what it was like to want something you couldn't have before

Have you told Eric and the rest of them that—” “That I’m a vampire? No. It isn’t the sort of thing you just drop into casual conversation.” “Maybe not, but they’re your friends. They should know. And besides, they’ll just think it makes you more of a rock god, like that vampire Lester.” “Lestat,” Simon said. “That would be the vampire Lestat. And he’s fictional.

I tell myself he's better than he makes himself out to be, but, Tessa, what if he isn't?

Just kissing? How quickly you dismiss our love.