“He stood at the foot of the grave, gloved hands clasped behind him, his dark clothes and hair blending into one black silhouette, as if he were not a presence but an absence, a hole cut out of the landscape.”

“The wavelets flung themselves up as if trying to pat my feet and I darted back, laughing, and picked up my skirts to chase them back as they receded, in a game of tag more ancient than I then knew.”

“I hope I'm not disturbing anything," Finn said, looking past Duncan at me.As soon as his dark eyes landed on mine, my breath caught in my throat. He stood at the door, his black hair mussed a bit.His vest was still neatly pressed but it was marred with a dark stain from Elora's blood."No,not at all," I said, sitting up further."Actually,we were-" Matt began,his voice hard."Actually,we were leaving," Willa cut him off. She scooted off the bed,and Matt shot her a look, which she only smiled at. "We were just saying that we had something to do in your room. Weren't we,Matt?""Fine," Matt grumbled and stood up. Finn moved aside to Matt and Willa could walk out of the room, and Matt gave him a warning glare. "But we'll just be right across the hall."Willa grabbed Matt's hand to keep him moving. Finn, as usual, seemed oblivious to Matt's threats, which only made Matt angrier.”

“Take your clothes off slowly. For me?” Ethan asked as he folded his large hands behind his head.So he wanted a show? Cecile had never done anything that sexy in her life, and she felt she lacked any real grace, but for Ethan, she’d give it a try.”

“Duncan climbed out my bedroom window, practically falling onto the roof. After he was out, he half jumped, half fell off the roof. Finn watched him apprehensively for a moment, holding my curtain open, but he didn't follow after immediately.Instead,he straightened up, looking over at me. My anger and resolution were fading, leaving me hopeful that Finn wouldn't really leave things this way."Once I'm out this window, lock it behind me," Finn commanded. "Make sure all the doors are locked, and never go anywhere alone. Never go anyplace at night, and if at all possible, always take Matt and Rhys with you." He looked past me for a moment, thinking of something."Although neither of them are really good for much of anything..." His dark eyes rested on mine once again. His expression was imploring, and he raised his hand as if he meant to touch my face, but he lowered it again. "You must be careful.""Okay," I promised him.With Finn standing right in front of me, I could feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne. His eyes were locked on mine, and I remembered the way it felt when he tangled his fingers in my hair and held me so close to him I couldn't breathe.He was so strong and controlled. In the brief moments he allowed himself to let go of his passion with me, it was the most wonderfully suffocating feeling I'd ever had.I didn't want him to leave, and he didn't want to leave. But we had both made choices we were unwilling to change. He nodded once more, breaking eye contact, and then turned and slid out the window.”

“Justus tried to make an objective assessment of Miguel. What was the big deal with him, anyway? So he was easy on the eyes. Actually that was an understatement; he was for female eyes, a virtual feast. He was a perfect physical specimen, and very sensual. He seemed to positively ooze sex and eroticism with his every move, look, and touch. Justus turned her head toward him to steal a glance at his profile, but he caught her looking at him.His eyes were so arresting, they were a dark, fierce green, like beautiful shining emeralds. She also noticed flecks of gold laced through them, reminiscent of cat’s eyes. Not any ordinary house cat, these were the eyes of a wild predator.He was a panther; with his black hair and green eyes and the way he moved, so gracefully, yet with definite strength and agility. She sighed to herself, so much for her objectivity.”

“It was night. There was a drizzle, so Emily's black Japanese umbrella was up. The two were close beneath it, walking in long strides, beautiful, sinister-looking lovers, narrow squared shoulders in dark coats. A tall pickup truck sped by and a was a phlem struck the edge of the pavement near where they were walking. Emily raised a finger, cocked her thumb, and said, "Bang.""Got the left rear tire." said Anthony."The truck rolled," she added, "and burst into flames.""He's still alive," said Anthony, "climbing out of the broken rear window, his hair and clothes ablaze, screaming for help.""Punky boys come and piss on him," said Emily.The discussion was very quiet, very earnest."They put out the fire from his burning body," said Anthony, "but he dies later in the burn ward.""His family is relieved and happy," said Emily with stunning finality.Twenty-four hours later the spitting driver dies on a suburban highway near his home, his pickup spinning out of control on black ice, the vehicle exploding into flame. Anthony and Emily never know about it, never guess a connection to their curse, having never thought of him a second time.”