"Me and you. It'll never happen. Not today, not tomorrow, not five years from now. Not when some idiot breaks your heart, or when you realise what your little sundresses do to everyone. Not when you're thirty, not when you're fifty. I'm going to push your limits, break you down, make you cry, and in the end ... I'll save you."

Some people exist in the blessed light of day, but I'm not one of those people. I exist in the bleak grey of a post-twilight world, where the warmth is sucked from the air and the weightless shadows come out to play. I will never be free, because I have a demon. It wasn't always with me, but something happened, something bad. I lost a year of my life, and now here I am, just me and my demon.
Maybe the demon is him: Nicholai Fell. He exists in the horrible darkness of a moonless night: quiet, full of mystery, completely unreachable. He might be in the profession of saving people, but it isn't going to work this time. Not even when he starts to break all of his own rules.
Because maybe ...
Just maybe ...
My demon is me.