"Time is infinitely long. Once you accept that, you must accept
that all life is infinitely short."
Even in New York, surrounded by countenances from every corner of the planet, people stared at her, asking where she was from, guessing and failing, because they guessed only places, whereas she was from not just a place but a time long extinct.
“I’m tired. You call me a newborn,
but I don’t feel new. I feel old. Disappointed. Lonely. Then you tell me I could be a god. And I want it.
You don’t know how much I want it. But it’s wrong.”
How many flavors did his face possess? She’d tasted them all–bursts of laughter, flashes of rage, waves of quiet boredom. She imagined those crystal eyes open again, beckoning her, flaring in jealousy, sharing an inside joke, closing in ecstacy. How often had she cursed this man,
kissed him, held his hand,
felt the warmth of his arms or the prickle of his unshaven face?
She’d been destined for a
different kind of life. A luxurious one. Maybe even a fun one.
She’d almost had it.
“Slaves. Humans. Immortals. Who among us is free? Even the heads of the great immortal families cannot choose how to run their own houses. They must abide first by the human laws of their area and then the rules set by the Sleeping Queen. In the end, only she is free. Only she does what she pleases. I’m advocating for freedom–freedom for a powerful immortal to choose how he runs his own family and, ultimately, freedom to change the world.”