Hope. An emotion that always kept suckering me in, time after time, despite my supposed retirement from the assassin business. Hope. The one thing that always seemed to get me into more trouble than just killing people for money ever had. Ah, hope. Sometimes, I really hated it.

I know that maniacal twinkle in your eye. You're up to something Gwen," he said.

I didn't know if he really meant talk, make out, or something else completely, but I'd be happy with any of them.

You won't hurt me. I know you won't." Logan said. "How can you be so sure?" I whispered. "Because you're that Gypsy girl, and I'm the bad-boy Spartan. And I think it's time we were finally together, don't you?

And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.

Moonlight slipped in through the lace curtains, slicing everything with its sliver cracks. That's how I felt right now - cold and cracked and hollow and empty.

I know, I know. But I can always kill him later. This way, at least we get to humiliate him first.” Finn eyed me. “Sometimes I think you’re even more devious, twisted, and vicious than I am.” I grinned. “You only wish you could be as ruthless as me.” “Absolutely.