"His soul. If he was just turned in the usual way, he would have lost it. And no one wants that, least of all him. Least of all me. Not after--"

It would have been cruel to him, too, she supposed. Yanked from his conscience once again after sharing her bed. Or his bed, as the case may be. Or possibly the kitchen table. Angel had been mercifully spare with the details.

"Not after the first time he lost it under similar enough circumstances."