Being born of the dreams and nightmares of humans, they weren’t truly faery or demon. The semantics of labels didn’t matter. There was just light, and there was dark, and neither of them belonged in this world.

Then I woke in the shade of the fig tree in my favorite park, with the gun barrel in my mouth.

There was something about ink curling across a man’s bulging bicep that invoked the dance of horniness.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “No.”“Excuse me?”She sniffed, opened her eyes then looked up. “No. I don’t wish you to leave.”His eyes changed from lukewarm to hot.The iron of the seat met her back. Oh yes, definitely she was the keeper at the zoo and she’d just offered her own leg, medium-rare, to the lion.

As she reached back for the buckle, her fingers met Mr. Meisner’s. She jumped. “I can do this... Sir.”“Ah.” He brushed aside her fingers. “I see you’ve at least remembered the sir.”“One always calls gentlemen that, just as you--”With only a rustle of cloth to warn her, his teeth met in the lobe of her ear, sending a spark into her middle. Like the melt of winter snow, she felt heat pool in her lower body. Her fingers curled against her collarbone where her hands still rested either side of her neck.“I’m not a gentleman, Faith.

If you lie there much longer, I’ll be tempted to tie you to the table legs and try buttering your ass instead of the toast.

Everything about him enveloped her, made her crave exactly this. His possession. In her mind something relaxed; the balance shifted. She welcomed every way he could touch her, the heat from his body, the atoms of his breath. Everything.

She’d run over Dankyo in an instant to get to Theo. Be a darn big bump in the road, but she’d do it.