Eve Silver Quotes

Fire bursts inside me. My lips part under his. Coming up on my toes, I fist my hands in his hair and kiss him back, sharing the flames that lick at my soul. I breathe as he breathes, liquid heat in my veins.
He kisses me like I am water and he is parched. He is gentle and rough, taking and giving. In that moment, his kiss is all I know, all I ever want to know.
I come up higher on my toes and my lips cling to his as he pulls away. I'm left shaken and out of my element. I've never been kissed like that. I never imagined such a kiss existed.

This all feels so familiar. Jackson said a lot of these things to me the first time I got pulled. I didn't understand any of it then. I didn't understand him. But now I do. He'll tell each of us to be selfish, to watch our own backs and no one else's, but he'll be wholly unselfish, watching out for all of us, expecting no one to watch out for him.

The aura of his soul. She'd seen them before when she'd guided the dead. But she'd never seen one quite like this, darkness and light blending to a color and texture that was both frightening and beautiful.

You stay close to me, Mikki Jones. Close enough that I can hear you breathing. Got it?
You always take care of new recruits?
Never.

What are you doing?"
"Activating it."
"Uh ... No you're not." I jerk my hand away. "You're not activating anything until I get some answers."
"Yeah, I am. If I don't activate it, it explodes." He sounds dead serious.
"For real?"
He doesn't answer, and that pisses me off. But I can't be certain it isn't for real, and since I'm fond of having a hand at the end of my arm, I offer my wrist. He finishes running his fingers over the screen.
I change direction and ask, "Would the bracelet really have exploded if you didn't activate it?"
There's a slight pause that makes me think I've surprised him by shifting topics. Good. Better that I have him on his toes than he have me on mine.
"No," he says, and I think the corners of his mouth twitch in the hint if a smile.

"Activating it."
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"Activating it."
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Eyes closed, I concentrate on visualizing a sandy beach and slowing my breathing - in through my nose, hold, out through my mouth - the way Dr. Andrews, my grief counselor, taught me. I've done this often enough to know it works. I've used it to numb the panic and sorrow for the past two years. Problem is, I've also succeeded in dulling pretty much every other emotion. There's always a price.

We can't spend our lives wondering, 'what if?' We must simply make the best of what we have. -Lady Mary Wynne-Jones

This isn't a game," he repeats. "It's real. What you do here determines your survival." He pauses. "And the survival of every other person on this planet."
I laugh.
He doesn't.
And that tells me he's either serious or seriously crazy. Please let him be crazy.

Of course. I died today, and now I'm going to fight aliens with a light saber. Maybe after that we can look for mermaids. Or unicorns."
"No," he says. "Just aliens."
Was that the barest hint of humour in his tone?