When Alex closes her eyes, she can hear his voice, sometimes: not his voice as he was, but something rougher, the edges wore just a bit too thin.

There is more to this world than life and death, he whispers, his jaws snapping wide; if she concentrates too much upon him, she thinks she could see him: dapper as always, the gentleman demon.

"I'll see you soon, Darlington," she says; a promise in its own way; the wolf at her metaphorical door nuzzles at her throat, a promise, too, in its own way.