• I turned to look into his face one last time. It was as if I could see the whole universe in his eyes. Maybe he was God, maybe he was simply enlightened. I didn't care right then, in that blessed moment, I just loved him. Later, though, the love was to turn to hate, to fear. They seemed so opposite, the feelings, yet they were all one note on his flute.

    Christopher Pike (2012). “Thirst No. 1: The Last Vampire, Black Blood, Red Dice”, p.159, Simon and Schuster