They're fanatics. It's like expecting humanity from a falling rock. It's not going to have a fit of compassion and not crack your skull open.

The phone rang. I picked it up. "Kate Daniels" "It's me," Curran said. "I—" I hung up.

Who is there with you?" "Raphael" Kate's voice snapped. "I'll be in Atlanta in three hours. Where are you?" "I said it's nothing major." "Bullshit. You wouldn't work with Raphael unless the Apocalypse was imminent and that was the only way to prevent it.

Outside the windows the day was bright: golden sunshine, blue sky, pleasant wind . . . I wanted to punch the happy day in the face, grab it by the hair, and beat it until it told me what the hell it was so happy about.

We can do subtle," I assured her. "It's our middle name," Andrea added. For some odd reason Rene didn't look convinced.

It could be worse," he said finally. "Efrenia married an arsonist. Jake's wife is a kleptomaniac. I suppose, a psychopathic spree killer isn't that odd of a choice, considering.

I don't want it to be attributed to a loss of control on my part. When I throw you out of the window, I want there to be no doubt the act was deliberate.