Gwendolyn Todaye was undoubtedly beautiful. Even in death she pranced the earth with such grace and passion that the angels themselves would have torn their hair out at the sight of her - of perfection.
Perhaps the hand that wielded the blade that lodged the hideous scar that married her right ear to her clavicle knew what they were doing. Perhaps they knew that in that fate-sealing moment they were creating art unlike any other.
Gwendolyn didn't know who had striked her dead. She didn't even know if it was the same hand that squeezed the breath from her sister's body.
In fact, Gwen knew very little about herself. Only that she and her sister possessed a power more threatening than either of them could have pictured in their unknown past lives.
She also knew that her heart belonged in one place. And that place was in the hands of Elliot Fletcher. Her cold, empty, unbeating heart... and his cold, scratched, dead hands.
That empty cavity in her chest ached as she rolled into consciousness one morning in early autumn. She swiped away a cheeky rat that was chewing gaily on her right ear.
Another day, she thought grudgingly. Another day in the calendar of eternity.