John Matthew was her well of soul, as the symphaths called it,or her pyrocant, to the vampires. Her essential weakness.

All right, then, her first rule for the rest of her days: no more looking outside for definitions. She might not have any clue who she was, but better to be lost and searching than shoved into a social box by someone else.

Written on the mirror, revealed by the steam, were the words, I love you, Jane.

Come here. I need to hold on to you." She felt the same way. And when there was no distance between them, it was like coming home.

Saxton smelled really good and had a handshake that was firm. "You've grown up a lot." Blay found himself flushing as he took his hand back. "You're just the same." "Am I?" Those pearl eyes flashed. "Is that good or bad?" "Oh...good. I didn't mean---" "So tell me how you've been. Are you mated to some nice female your parents set you up with?" Blay's laugh was sharp and hard. "God, no. There's no one for me.

The mind...the mind was the most powerful force for and against someone.

You want to poof it or ride back with me?