Karole Cozzo · 272 pages
Rating: (774 votes)
“Really. I'm a firm believer in new beginnings. Looking back all the time... It really starts to hurt your neck." He shrugs carelessly. "If you don't want to be defined by your past, you shouldn't have to be.”
“Fresh starts, okay? Maybe you're not ready to take it, but at least know one's here.”
“If we're gonna hang out, there are going to be some things you can do that I can't. It is what it is. My world's limited in some ways, yeah, but there's no sense in trying to equalize it by giving up things you like.”
“I'm said, I think. I frown into space for a minute. No. I'm lonely.
It's a sensation that Pax used to drive away. Now he makes the feeling worse than ever. Because nothing makes you feel lonelier than someone being with you... but not.”
“But you're so damn vibrant and beautiful and... whole.”
“This is ridiculous. You seem hell-bent on seeing on the good in me, yet you expect it to work some other way for you. I can't accept that.”
“I think you're beautiful. And rare. Fierce but... delicate at the same time.”
“Tightly. So tightly that I feel like he's the one thing holding me together and so it's safe to collapse. I bury my face against his firm chest, feel his biceps tightening around my back. It feels so good to have him holding me again.”
“Between the friend zone and some other unknown zone all night long, I'm definitely confused about how Pax feels towards me. But if I'm being honest with myself? I have to admit that I'm not confused at all about how I feel towards Pax.”
“As you say, DeWar, our shame comes from the comparison. We know we might be generous and compassionate and good, and could behave so, yet something else in our nature makes us otherwise." She smiled a small, empty smile. "Yes, I feel something I recognise as love. Something I remember, something I may discuss and mill and theorise over." She shook her head. "But it is not something I know. I am like a blind woman taking about how a tree must look, or a cloud. Love is something I have a dim memory of, the way someone who went blind in their early childhood might recall the sun, or the face of their mother. I know affection from my fellow whore-wives, DeWar, and I sense regard from you and feel some in return. I have a duty to the Protector, just as he feels he has a duty to me. As far as that goes, I am content. But love? That is for the living, and I am dead.”
“Okay, brace yourselves for a really hilarious joke here: Being a vampire sucks.”
“The need to magnify themselves, to bestir themselves, is characteristic of all illegitimates.”
“I was speechless and utterly craving what he had just declared.”
“Too late to point out that he would be better off with someone smart and sweet and—okay—awkward than with Chelsea. Someone who could make him laugh. Someone like, oh, I dunno, me!”
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