She has escorted thousands of souls and heard every story love ever told. She has never had one of her own.

When Death arrives at John's bedside, she expects what she always finds--fear, resistance, the quiet surrender of the inevitable. What she finds instead is a man who isn't afraid of her. A man who asks questions. A man who looks into the dark corner where she sits and simply wants to know her name.

For the first time in centuries, Tresa hesitates.

Some hungers are older than death itself. And some mistakes cannot be uncorked.