Oliver liked to play the part of disaffected youth, but he liked shopping in SoHo even more.

Maybe she'd been drinking too much of the super-sweet Mexican Coca-Cola they had down here. Or maybe she was just tired, alone, and far from home. Because somewhere in the brittle, concrete center of Azrael's dark heart, something was melting.

Schuyler put a gentle hand on Abbadon's feathered extensions, feeling the majestic power underneath their silky weight. She had been frightened once, to see him in this light, but now that she saw his terrifying face, she found it beautiful.

He wasn't perfect, but he was perfect for her.

He was like a shooting star you tried to catch with your hands. She would only get burned.

Dude you scare me sometimes! You're all vampire superwoman

That was the thing about pictures--they were worth a thousand words, but sometimes they weren't the right ones.