Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.

People love what they're used to, I guess." "No." You shook your head. "People should love what needs loving. That way they can save it.

The people we care for aren't always the one we should

I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.

Doesn't that hurt?" I said. "Yep." "How do you keep them in there?" "I'm stubborn." You grinned. "Stubborn as a waddywood. And anyway, pain means it's healing." "Not always.

I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.

How long will you keep me?" I asked. You shrugged. "Forever, of course.