She'd dropped to her knees and put her head on his chest, and when she'd heard the strong, even heartbeat, she'd cried and then kissed his lips gently, because he was asleep and he would never know. H...

She'd ended up passing out, and sometime later, John must have gotten up to use the loo and left the light on. Probably to make sure she didn't feel lost if she woke up. Because that's the kind of mal...

She'd exchanged her dreams of her parents for the dogma of her instructors, but neither of those outlooks were innately her own.

She'd fallen in love with the wrong boy. But when did love ever bother about that?

She'd followed him from the door to the condo into the tiny office even though he'd requested that she wait a minute in the living room. If he was going back to close his coffin, she had to see it.

She'd forgotten the name she'd been given, but it made no difference.She had only one name now:Death, devourer of worlds.

She'd love to go over him with a fine-toothed comb. Rummage around in him. Turn him upside down. Empty him out.

She'd melted onto the cushions, almost numb with satiation, and with a chuckle that had sounded both diabolical and satisfied, he'd picked her up and carried her to her bedchamber.

She'd never find another man like him as long as she lived. He was ruining her for any other, and the pleasure of it was beyond bearing.