I grabbed him around the back of his neck, knotted the fingers of my other hand in his hair, and pushed my face in close to his. "You," I said, into a deathly quiet that was broken only by the gasping sound of his breathing, "are going live long enough to make it up to her, you son of a bitch."
Yep. It's all Muire's fault.
Boy is she gonna feel like shit when she figures that out.