Lassiter (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #21)

by J.R. Ward

Bending back down, he put his mouth right next to George’s ear. “Papa loves you,” he said softly.

I am not the Gift of Light, I am a scourge held in check by a conscience that is very easily dissuaded from its supremacy.”

“And your apology about this evening is not required,” she concluded, “because I know what I did and what happened behind the club, and that is wholly sufficient for me. I do not need your version of events to align with reality. That is your issue, not mine.”

“I am balance,” she reiterated, as if his silence made her feel that he was marshaling arguments. “Not innocence. And balance does not need protection to survive. It regulates itself, no matter what, and no matter who, seeks to upset the equilibrium.”

“I bonded with who I thought you were,” he whispered. “But yeah, I’m in love with who you actually are.”

“I care not about this house or anything under my roof. Just kill the bastards. Kill them all.”