The pain of hope dying is worse than his fists and boots.

When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice.

I will sit here but an hour or two, then leave." I yawn. "So very long as that?" When he answers, there is a wry note in his voice. "I do have my reputation to protect.

He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.

For all that I have kissed before, I have never felt anything like this. It is as if I have swallowed a tiny piece of the sun, its warmth and light reaching into every corner of my soul and chasing away the shadows. I surrender to that kiss - surrender to the strength and the courage and the sheer goodness of the man.

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.

However, there are those who deserve to die but who have not yet encountered the means to do so—we help them on their way.