I’d always thought of John as a friend. The special kind that you snuggled in bed with and held on to for dear life as you drowned in the ocean for hours. I’d grouped him in with Sadie, but there was a problem. I was bizarrely aware of the fact that he wasn’t a woman; he was an extremely handsome six-foot-five supernatural assassin. John was definitely treating me differently than he had when I was disguised as a boy. There was an unfamiliar edge in his eyes. The way he looked at me. It made me squirm.
