I didn't save you," he whispers, lips tickling my eyelashes. "You saved me.

You never know when the truth will come home. You can't choose the time. The time chooses you.

Maybe you reach a certain point in evolution where boredom is the greatest threat to your survival. Maybe this isn't a planetary takeover at all, but a game. Like a kid pulling wings off flies.

And no answer when we sent our message. Something like, "Hello, welcome to Earth. Hope you enjoy your stay. Please don't kill us.

You're mortal, and only a mortal can afford to be romantic. When we conquered death, we murdered love.

Do you know how to tell who the enemy is, Cassie?

God doesn't call the equipped, son. God equips the called. And you have been called.