"You're special, but don't think you're important enough for me to not hurt you."
When people start to disappear in Arizona, their vanishings overshadow the city, leaving residents crowding in populated places and demanding the cases be solved.
Anya's life gets more complicated than looking nearly identical to the victims.
People have fears: spiders, height, thunder, or that relative who always nag about marriage and want to match you with a friend of a friend.
Anya is afraid of Levi. A caring, soft-spoken man with calamity-cloaked blue eyes and a sequence of cursed ink above the strength twisted in his muscles.
She has a reason to believe he's the offender, because he nailed a 6'5, barrel-chested crook to the wall by the throat, while supporting a charismatic smile.
Every time she's in danger, he's an armored silhouette behind fogged windows. His love is rich and consuming, like the iridescent colors to his canvas-yet also a coax of the crystalline sky and the ocean's midnight zone.
