[There's a bolstering swell of heat and light, propelling Mello back toward the icy surface. If he's lucky, he won't be disoriented, and his blood won't bubble up and burst his veins.

But at least that huge, hungry thing resting its bulk on the shifting sands of the floor won't devour him. It's what passes for mercy from the detective. Beyond it? This pale, brittle thing that's all hollow darkness in his eyes has little else to offer.]

I agreed to the Bond because I can handle a liar. But only one who can still recognize the truth when it's looking him in the face.