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311 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 22, 2013
"There are people in this world who are Nobody. No one sees them. No one notices them. They live their lives under the radar, forgotten as soon as you turn away.
That’s why they make the perfect assassins."
He's looking at me. He's going to kill me. I'm going to die.
Claire didn't want to think about him. Didn't want to anticipate the killer's touch her own last breath, but there was a tiny part of her - the Romeo and Juliet part, the Heathcliff and Catherine - that thought for the briefest second that maybe this moment was what she'd always been meant for.
Maybe she's been born to die by this boy's hands.
Quote: “I am everything. I am nothing. I am powerful. I am forgotten.”

Quote: “You can’t tell me I matter and then leave like I don’t.”

Quote: “How can somebody want me dead when no one knows I’m alive?”
"He had to carry her. Hold her. Marvel at the curve of her cheekbones. Count the ways for her to die. One, for poison. She was so still. Soft. Two, for knives. [...]She was beautiful this Null"
Claire Ryan was a ghost, a nothing, a nobody. Invisible would have been an upgrade.
Oxygen was invisible, but it got breathed all the same. Sound waves were heard. Even clandestine farts had the distinction of being smelled.
Oh, God. I'm jealous of farts. Claire uncrossed her legs and fell backward, allowing her head to thunk viciously against her bedroom's wood floor. I envy the noxious, gaseous secretions of the human backside.
Claire couldn't move. She couldn't run. She couldn't think of anything but the boy stalking toward her. Claired didn't want to think about him. Didn't want to anticipate the killer's touch, her own last breath, but there was a tiny part of her—the Romeo and Juliet
part, the Heathcliff and Catherine—that thought for the briefest second that maybe this moment was what she'd always been meant for.
Maybe she'd been born to die by this boy's hands.
Situation: What would it be like to have an out-of-body experience? To watch someone kill you?
When she was dead, would he put flowers on her grave? Would she haunt him, now and always?
"The game ends now."
The words brought Claire back to the present. To the terror. To the chilling understanding that death was never romantic; there was a difference between being stalked and being wooed.
For a moment Nix, resembled a shepherd who'd seen the messiah. Awe colored his every feature. Even his tattoos seemed to glow with some kind of inner joy.
"You tamed me, Claire. I love you, just so you know."
The dam inside her broke, and Claire repeated the words back to him, felt them, meant them.