Is it too much?"
"No. It's like you completed the circuit," I say, gripping his other hand. "I feel kind of drunk, though."
"Drunk on power?" he asks.
I giggle. "Shit, Snow. Stop talking. This is embarrassing.

Does it have to be fatal every time? The biting? Couldn't you just drink some of a person's blood, then walk away?"
"I can't believe you're asking me this, Snow. You, who can't walk away from half a sandwich.

Simon Snow is still going to die kissing me.
Just not today.

Tall. Black hair swept back from his forehead. Lips curled up in a sneer... I know that face as well as my own.

And sometimes holes want to get bigger, but Baz was wrong—sometimes they just want to be filled.

It's always fire with Baz. I can't believe he hasn't incinerated me yet. Or burned me at the stake.