The wolf had begun hunting human prey. They were plentiful in the dark city streets and provided enough good meat to satiate his gnawing hunger. He was still very careful not to let any who saw him live. To do otherwise would displease the Master. He would only stalk those people that were foolish enough to walk alone in the night

Middling monsters died at the point of pitchforks, burned with torches, or at the butt of silver-capped canes wielded by angry, geriatric Poles. Middling people were dime-a-dozen, emptied souls, shorn sheeple, human husks. A good monster didn__ worry about what it was doing; it just did it. A true predator didn__ worry about guilt, or being popular, or anything. It just cruised along, living for the kill, surviving. A good person, well, she__ put a bullet in her head or weigh her feet down and throw herself into the Chicago River, holding her breath until she went to the sludgy, filthy bottom, and had to open wide and breathe water until she died.

Hi Maggie, it's nice to see you again,' he said, smiling so sweetly I thought I might need insulin.

It's fine, but don't ask me to strip again or I'm going to wonder what your intentions really are.

His grip on my shoulder tightens. His other hand behind my head caresses me softly and I sigh."Touch me, Skye."His voice is rough, almost sounding like a groan.

With you and me, I don't know what anything means. We're pushing each other away and yet I don't seem to be able to let you go.