Indeed, Xcor stayed away for the wrong reason, the bad reason, an unacceptable reason—in spite of all his training, he found himself choosing Throe’s life over ambition: His anger had taken him in one direction, but his regret had led him in another. And the latter one was what won out.

Sometimes your whole life could hinge on a fraction of an inch. Or the beat of a nanosecond. Or the knock on a door.

I am very comfortable with conflict, be it of the legal or mortal kind. My father was a mediator, a bridge maker. I am a grave maker.

He stopped when he heard Wellsie's voice coming out of the study. "… some kind of nightmare. I mean, Tohr, he was terrified… No, he fudged when I asked him what it was, and I didn't press. I think it's time he sees Havers. Yes… UAH-Hugh. He should meet Wrath first. Okay. I love you, myhellren . What? God, Tohr, I feel the same way. I don't know how we ever lived without him. He is such a blessing.

Besides, the mhis that surrounded the compound could scramble anything from GPS to Santa Claus.

Trust me, true?" Butch barked a laugh. "Last time you said that i ended up with a vampire cocktail, remember?

When you were the son of evil, there was little you couldn't do, own, or kill, and yet her mortal self was an elusive trophy he could touch, but not put on his shelf. This made her rare. This made her precious. This made him...love her.