“Your eyes have turned as black as a Crow’s,” she blurted out.He didn’t even blink over her bizarre comment. “Not this time, Christina,” he said in a furious whisper. “Compliments won’t get me off balance again, my little temptress. I swear to God, if you ever again dismiss me so casually, I’m going to––”“Oh, it wasn’t a compliment,” Christina interrupted, letting him see her irritation. “How presumptuous of you to think it was. The Crow is our enemy.”
“I am your instructor", he says."My name is Four".Christina asks, "Four? Like the number?""Yes", Four says. "Is there a problem?""No.""Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It-"Christina snickers. "The Pit? Clever name."Four walks up to Christina and leans his face close to hers. His eyes narrow, and for a second he just stares at her."What's your name?" he asks quietly."Christina", she squeaks."Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction", he hisses. "The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut.Got that?”
“I'm fine," I told him tersely."Of course you are. You're one of the strongest people I know."It took me a second to process that, because he'd said it so casually. Like he was talking about the weather or what time it was. Only Pritkin didn't say things like that. His idea of a compliment was a nod and to tell me to do whatever it was I'd just done over again. Like that was usually possible.But that had sounded suspiciously like a compliment to me.”
“Shy, she’s yours, that’s what you say. Control your woman,” High demanded. “Get her ass out.”My eyes went to Shy to see him looking at High, and he wasn’t looking pissed. He was looking reflective. Then he said, “Tab and I don’t play it that way. You wanna order your old lady around, do what you do, not for me to say. I asked her to go, she didn’t go. Not gonna make her. But you try, you’ll deal with me.”God, I loved my guy.”
“I--" She swallowed, perhaps summoning her courage, then continued, "I would not lie to you and say that I did not want this.""Me," he cut in peevishly. "You wanted me."She closed her eyes. “Yes,” she finally said, “I wanted you.”Part of him wanted to interrupt again, to remind her that she still wanted him, that it wasn’t and would never be in the past.“But I can’t have you,” she said quietly, “and because of that, you can’t have me.”And then, to his complete astonishment, he asked, “What if I married you?”
“I wished my mother was here tonight, which is stupid, because it’s an impossible wish.” He shrugs and turns to me, drowning the smile that cracks me every time. “It’s not stupid to want to see her again.” “It wasn’t so much that I wanted to see her again,” he says, looking at me with the depth of more than seventeen years in his eyes. “I wanted her to see you.”