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“Sarah was Ethan's dear little sister." He made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Poor woman." There was something akin to anguish in his voice. "I will always regret her." Ellie grimaced in disgust "'Was'? Are you saying she's dead?" Terrence nodded, and in the dark, her eyes were finally beginning to adjust so she could better see him. The sadness in his features spoke volumes. So, he had one human bone in his body. He wasn't ALL divisive and wicked. Too bad that didn't matter a load of poo to Ellie.”

“He pressed a finger to her carotid and swore. She was dead. His target. Dead. Not on his watch was she gonna stay that way. “You’re not dying today, lady.” He grabbed the switchblade knife from his jean’s back pocket, flicked it open, then cut down the front of her sweater. He pocketed the knife and clasped his hands together, then laced his fingers and pressed the heel of his hand to the middle of her sternum and began compressions.”

“Ebony!" The shout was desperate as the look on the man's face. She looked down, only to realize she hung off a ledge, no landing in sight. Fire glowed from every tree and blade of grass around her. "Don't you let go," he pleaded. "I can't reach--" she strained harder, but the ledge collapsed beneath her grasp. "Don't let--" "No!" Her fingers slipped, then she plunged into the darkness.”

“Pulling the threadbare sheet over her shoulder, she rolled onto her side away from him. Cries, deep and gun-wrenching built in her chest, threatening to steal away what air was left in her lungs. She didn't care that Bucket Man sat a foot away, witnessing her lose what grip she had left on reality. She had nothing. Her memory was gone and she was already half dead. Her only friend was agony, and she was the daughter of a monster.”

“Even the bruising couldn't disguise the strength of his features. His jaw, cheekbones, nose and--even his forehead--nothing was lacking in confidence about him--in the looks or personality department. What she wouldn't give to have his confidence. And absolution of guilt.”

“Ethan grabbed Alijah's shirtfront and hauled him out back of the house. "I don't need a lecture from--" "Oh yes, you do." Ethan gave him a helpful push down the remaining stairs, not a bit remorseful for making him lose his footing. But the sap recovered in time. Blast it all--Ethan truly wanted to rearrange the man's face.”

“You'll yet find happiness." A twang of anger snapped within her at his words. "Shut your trap, highness, or I'll bloody well shut it for you!" She lunged forward and grabbed the front of his shirt. Her fingers itched for- for what? A weapon. She berated herself for her violent state of mind. Hands still fisted in his shirt, Justice felt their trembling and prayed he did not. Jonathan glanced down at her hands, face impassive, then returned his eyes to her face. When Justice finally gave in and lifted her gaze, her vision blurred at the empathy written in his eyes.”