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you knew me.”

      His smile brought back the deep internal flutter she had experienced earlier. There was no hint of treachery in his expression and no sign of his fangs. Avery wanted to return the smile but wasn’t sure she remembered how. Pain had a tendency to darken even the lightest moments. Although this man was part of that pain, there was a chance he could help her rise above the agony of her existence, and at this late hour, set things straight.

      If that wasn’t to happen, and things didn’t go that way, what would fill the empty space inside her that pain occupied? What would happen to the memories carved into her body and her mind? Without those memories, nothing would matter. He wouldn’t matter.

      “You’ve gone quiet,” he noted when the silence stretched.

      Don’t you see it, Blood Knight? See me?

      What kind of creature has white blood in their veins?

      How many beings walking this Earth have one boot on the ground and the other in the heavens?

      Doesn’t my skin tell you something important?

      Are you looking deep enough? Hard enough?

      Do you not see yourself in me?

      Her story? Until the twenty-first century, when whole sections of the human race had gone through phases with names like Goth and cyberpunk, she’d had to stay completely hidden. After that, when pretty much anything worked, fitting in was easier. Her white skin was even envied by a select few. Dressed in black leather, she could skate through crowds if she had to, if those crowds occupied the outskirts of places where normal people gathered.

      Parts of her story encapsulated this Knight’s story, as well. Neither of them could ever really fit in. The magnificent Blood Knight was hugging the shadows, just as she was. They were freaks because of their unique kind of beauty.

      When she looked up, he had raised a hand as if expecting her to take it. As if he was tossing her a lifeline to a better place.

      Go to hell, was the response on the tip of her tongue. But that was overruled by another reaction. Because, God, yes, she wanted to take that hand, touch him, believe in him. She wanted those things badly enough to taste the sweet irony of her own stubborn objections. Way back, she had trusted in the power of good, and in those who wielded goodness like a weapon.

      The Knight spoke again. “If you allow me to help with this quest of yours, you’ll be doing me a favor, you know. Things can get pretty boring around here. Same old fights. Endless hours. More and more monsters.”

      Body rebelling, mind reeling with comebacks so indecent they’d send this Knight away forever... Avery took a breath and closed her eyes. Another surprise, one to top all of the others, was hearing herself say, “Yes. Okay. Help me.”

      Afraid to see his reaction, she kept her eyes shut, figuring a thank-you would have been going too damn far, even if this Blood Knight expected it.

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