What hope is there?” I asked. “If even angels fall, what hope is there for the rest of us?” “There isn’t,” he said. “We’re on our own. And we have to make the choices we think are best for our own survival.

Anyone who takes a hit for Adrian Ivashkov deserves some credit.

Adrian frowned. 'Is that a noose?' 'It's a tie!' I cried, trying not to feel offended. He laughed, clearly delighted at this. 'My mistake.

Then why are you crying?” “Because of you!” I beat my fists on his chest. “Because I love you, and I don’t know what to do! I can solve almost any problem, but I can’t solve this. I don’t know how to deal with that. And I’m afraid! Afraid for you! Do you know what it’d do to me if something happens to you?” I stopped hitting him and clasped my hands over my own chest, as though there was a danger my heart might fall out. “This! This would break. Shatter. Crumble. Crumble until it was dust.” I dropped my hands. “Blown away on the wind until there was nothing left.

I was so tired of being told reasonable, practical things whenever something went wrong with my life.

I looked him in the eye. “I will always love you.” Then I plunged the stake into his chest.

I didn’t care about anything except her and the way touching her drove me wild, even as her calm and steady presence soothed the storms that raged within me.