[ If Valentino had a conscience, he wasn't aware of it. Maybe he did once a very long time ago but that had probably been beaten out of him quickly in either his living days or when he landed in hell. The things he'd done to survive, to claw and scratch and stab and shoot his way up to the top and the things he'd done to make sure he stayed there.

There was no room for a conscience in that blackened little thing that used to be his heart. Empathy... sympathy... that kind of shit made you weak. Made you easy prey. And here was their princess, Little Miss Bleeding Heart Herself. As far as he was concerned, the easiest target in all of Hell.

Her friends would clearly be her undoing. ]

Hey, it isn't my fault they opened fire first. Spring cleaning, they said. So I just helped take out the trash.

Maybe I did get a little... carried away.