“I would have stolen it for you, had I known you were interested." His voice was muffled by the door to the lumber room down the hallway, and I heard thumps and a crash.I raised my voice a trifle more than mere volume required. "I'm interested because she was. Both of them, come to that--Damian's art is infused with mystic symbols and traditions."Holmes' voice answered two inches away from my ear, making me jerk and spray a handful of maps across the floor. "Religion can be a dangerous thing, it is true," he remarked darkly, and went out again.”

“I hate you," I say, the sentiment muffled against his heart, hoping to make it true."And I love you," he answers without hesitation, voice resolved and raw as he holds me tighter so I can't break away and react. "A crossroads, my beautiful princess, that was unavoidable—given our situations.”

“Rosie!” Scarlett shouts. There’s fear in her voice, mixed with fury. I grit my teeth. My sister flings the bathroom door open, a hazy form behind the white shower curtain. “What happened? Are you okay?” she demands, voice dark enough to intimidate a wolf.“I . . .” Scarlet,” I say, cutting the water off. I sigh and reach for a towel.A voice interrupts my movement. “Look, Scarlett, come on, it was an accident—”Silas rounds the corner. I freeze, arm outstretched and still a few inches from the towel, body half exposed around the curtain. His mouth drops, cheeks flush, and he immediately whirls around to face the hallway.“Sorry, Rosie,” he said quickly. He puts his hands into his pockets and bounces on his heels. My face turns bright red, goose bumps scattering across my arms from both the cold and the shivery feeling Silas is giving me.”

“Did you need something?' I asked.'Yes,' he said, reaching out and taking my hand. My heart thumped hard at his touch. I told myself I should pull my hand away, but I couldn't make myself do it.'What did you need?' My voice was little more than a whisper.'Your smile. I haven't seen it all day.”

“I jumped at the sound of Drake's voice. "You scared the crap out of me! Where did you come from?"He raised his eyebrows, "From what I learned in Anatomy, I came from my Mother. But if you are refering to just now, through the door.”

“I can't be a priest because although my heart is as loud as hers I can pretend no answering riot. I have shouted to God and the Virgin, but they have not shouted back and I'm not interested in the still small voice. Surely a god can meet passion with passion? She says he can. Then he should.”