He had no one but himself to blame, for he’d opened himself up to it. Just a fraction at first, like a crack in a window. But the funny thing was, once
you welcomed in a breeze, there was no stopping what came next. A wind, a storm, thunder and lightning, until you could no longer reach the
window to close it—and didn’t really want to anyway. That’s what this new darkness was. Evil in its purest form...
-Paris

Auteur: Gena Showalter