Stanley’s POV

Rain had a way of exposing people, no matter how polished, how powerful, how perfectly composed under the rain, everyone looked human.

Liana stood in the street, rain streaking her hair, the taste of Dominic Hale still on her mouth and I watched helpless and furious from the black car parked across the café.

For a moment, I thought I’d imagined it. That maybe the closeness, the whispering, the touch of his hand on her neck were tricks of the rain-blurred glass but then he ...