That morning, she had found an envelope stuffed into her locker. It was from the Mercer Hotel, and held a plastic door key for their suite. "See you there tonight," Oliver had written. "Chomp! Chomp!

It is good to be busy. Being busy takes our mind off being in love at the wrong time, in the wrong place and with the wrong guy.

It was so nice just to live in the moment, to enjoy holding him so closely, to pretend for a little while that they were merely two young people in love and nothing else.

It was maddening how your best friend could twist the knobs inside of you so much that it hurt.

The more things change, the more they stay different.

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.

Not that they were there to have fun—although with Kingsley Martin around, fun was never far from the agenda.