“I don’t like anyone knowing anything about me that I didn’t choose to tell them.”

“I always know exactly where you are in a room", he tells me without looking round. "I know how many times you run your fingers through your hair. I know when you look at me as well as the precise instant you look at anyone else.”

“Right now, I wish I’d stayed because I want you at my side. That sounds pretty selfish, but I don’t mean it that way. You just never needed me that way; I said it to you once as I was leaving—that you love me, but you don’t need me. You don’t lean. But I admire that about you, and I could use some of your strength right now.”

“Are you mine?" I asked, low knowing the answer already."Completely." His voice thrummed with conviction.And oh, I liked it."So I may do anything I wish with you?""Anything."I didn't need his invitation, of course. He belonged to me, like everything in Sheol, but there was more pleasure in a willing slave. I drew my athame and took his hand. He shuddered at my touch because I put a thread of power in it, pulled it through him in a flicker of the darkest pleasure. Soon enough he'd beg for this, unable to perform with anyone else. I knew how to enthrall my lovers. With a faint smile, I pricked the tip of his finger. Not as much pain as he expected, I think, but I drew blood. His gasp aroused me. His blood welled like a crimson jewel and I took his fingertip between my lips, tasting him. Learning his secrets.”

“Show, not tell, right? Action, not words. You don’t want to hear how sorry I am or how things will be different this time. You want to see it with your own eyes. And until I can show you that, you won’t tell me what I want to hear.”

“You ever have that feeling? Like you’ve known someone your whole life but you don’t know them at all.”

“I’m just staring at him, mouth half-open. As soon as I realize it, I find something to say, anything. “Who the hell are you?”“March,” he tells me.“That a name or an order?”