“One night (I was eleven years old at the time) he came and shook me from my sleep and announced, with the same grumbling laconism that he would have employed to predict a good harvest to his tenants, that I should rule the world.”

“My voice softens. 'How old are you?''I'll be eleven next year.'I grin. 'So you're ten years old?'He crosses his arms. Frowns. 'I'll be twelve in two years.'I think I already love this kid.”

“I'm your wife. You should have come to me. When I have ever not been there to help you? He shook his head, telling me there never was a time, which made his story that much worse. I would have done anything for that man, and he knew it.”

“I turned away from his grip, ashamed that I couldn’t tell him the truth. I was the one that wasn’t good enough. I would be the one to ruin everything; to ruin him. He would hate me one day, and I couldn’t see the look in his eye when he came to that conclusion.”

“But he came, when I was at my darkest. I prayed him down from the sky, and he came in a flash of blue fire that lit up the heavens. I know he came by his own choice, but he came because I called him. He came when I could no longer take the weight of the world on my own. He came when I needed him the most. He came and saved me from myself, saved me from the waters that rose up to my chest and over my head.”

“I've been with Mr. Locke for several hundred years now." He tossed her a wink. "I should hope in that time he would share with me his undead state. Had he not, I would have been rather perplexed as I celebrated 100 years of age and still looked 45.”