There's power in the night. There's terror in the darkness. Despite all our accumulated history, learning, and experience, we remember. We remember times when we were too small to reach the light switch on the wall, and when darkness itself was enough to make us cry out in fear.

Karrin Murphy led the charge, and Sanya and I tried to keep up. She went through that sea of foes like a little speedboat, her enemies spun and tossed and turned and disoriented in her wake. Sanya and I hacked our way through stunned foes, pushing and chopping with unsophisticated brutality-and that big Russian lunatic just kept laughing the whole time.

There is no truer gauge of a man's character than the way in which he employs his strength, his power.

Heroism doesn't pay very well. I try to be cold-blooded and money-oriented, but I keep screwing it up.

Sheep can befriend a hungry wolf only for briefly.

Some things just aren't meant to go together. Things like oil and water. Orange juice and toothpaste.

She studied my face for a long minute. "Are you going to help my mom?" It was a simple question. But how do you tell a child that things just aren't that simple, that some questions don't have simple answers--or any answer at all?