I never skulk, and lurk only sometimes.

It is this kindness of his that unsettles me most. I can dodge a blow or block a knife. I am impervious to poison and know a dozen ways to escape a chokehold or garrote wire. But kindness? I do not know how to defend against that.

It is all we have left to us. And while it is more than I ever dared dream, it is nowhere near enough.

Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?

God's Teeth,' he says. 'I was only trying to wake you. You were crying out in your sleep.' 'I was not,' I say, then look from his neck to my knife. 'When I tried to wake you, you stabbed me.' He sounds sore put out. and I cannot blame him.

I cannot tell her I have been moping over a broken heart when I have worked so hard to convince her I have no heart at all.

I stare at him coldly. "I do not care for needlework." I pause. "Unless it involves the base of the skull.