I am part-demon, part-human. What else does that make me?" She answered his question with one of her own. "I am part-centaur, part-human. Does that make me a mutant?" "It makes you a miracle." She held his gaze. "Exactly.

The Fomorians skittered backward, away from me, looking justifiably confused. I mean, really, how many human women actually run to them? And I was a human woman covered in swamp yuck, with wild red hair sticking out in matted hunks and arms flailing like a demented Bride of Frankenstein. I'd run from me.

He was chugging brown pop from a can Jack had handed him while he stuffed nacho cheese Doritos in his face. I was glad to see he looked lots better, almost completely like himself, which proves Doritos and brown pop really are health foods.

Then, with an enormous rush of meadow-filled wind, the green candle went out, and my best friend died.

I know dead. I've been there, done that and got the freakin' T-shirt.

She comes back Through blood by blood She returns Cut deep now Like me Humanity saves her Will she save me?

That's how Darkness works. It turns love into something bad.