It felt odd to realize she was frightened more by what he might know, and not of what he might be.

Qhuinn looked at each of the hoods again. How ironic, he thought. Nearly two years ago, an Honor Guard of black robes had been sent to him to make sure he knew his family didn't want him. And now, here these males were, come to draw him into a different kind of fold-- that was every bit as strong as that of blood.

Chaos and love when hand in hand and oh, the glorious grace of the world because of it.

Well, duh. He was six feet, six inches tall and built like a brick shithouse.

She silenced him with her mouth, then pulled back. "You can't change what I think of you." He reached up and brushed her lower lip with his thumb. "If you truly knew me, everything you believe would change." "Your heart would be the same. And that is what I love.

And bottom line, without John by her side, everything seemed to be just a big, resounding meh.

Is he Catholic?" her grandmother asked on the way out. He's a drug dealer -- so if he is religious, he's got incredible powers of reconciliation. "He looks like a good boy," her vovo said over her shoulder. "A good Catholic boy." And that was that -- for now.