Vita Nostra (Vita Nostra, #1)

by Marina Dyachenko

The monster slowly climbed out of the broken tower. It shifted, pulsated, spilled onto the ground, but Sasha saw only its eyes. Motionless. A bit cloudy. Staring at Sasha, and no one else. And staring back into those eyes, Sasha realized with all her core being something that many understood before her: The creature did not care that Sasha was loved by someone. And that she loved someone herself. And that she had had a childhood, and she had splashed on the seashore; and that she had an old knit sweater with a reindeer embroidered on the front. There were plenty of people loved by someone, the ones who carried a seashell, a button, or a black-and-white photograph in their pockets. But no one had ever been saved by memories, no one had been protected by words and pledges, and those loved greatly by others died too.