The Record Keeper (Murphy Shepherd, #3)

by Charles Martin

I discovered that each measured revenge only served to deepen my emptiness. Each of these men had done unspeakable things to us, things that should never be done to another human—and they did so with smug and cavalier indifference—yet I gained no satisfaction from hurting them.

Further, if there was good in me, anything remotely resembling kindness, much less love, I felt it slipping away. Draining out. I was becoming as dark inside as those we hunted.