Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp. “I can’t,” he says.

I'm filled with awe, as I always am, as I watch her transform from a woman who calls me to kill a spider to a woman immune to fear.

Thinking like your prey. . . that's where you find their vulnerabilities.

This is what birds see. Only they're free and safe. The very opposite of me.

I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.

Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar," says Petta bitterly, "if it weren't for the baby." There. He's done it again.

If I get home, I'll be so stinking rich, I'll be able to pay someone to do my hearing.