He smiled at that, and then his gaze shifted to a spot over my shoulder and it faded. 'These doubts wouldn’t have anything to do with the company you’re keeping of late, would they?'I didn’t get a chance to answer before the shop door was thrown open and a furious war mage stomped in. Pritkin spotted me and his eyes narrowed.'You shaved my legs?!'Mircea looked at me and folded his arms across his chest. I looked from one unhappy face to the other and suddenly remembered that I had somewhere else to be.

I’d have been dead a long time ago if not for my friends, one of whom had just jumped off the cliff after me. I’d have been a lot more appreciative if he hadn’t pushed me first." ~Cassandra Palmer

Not really hungry.""She’ll eat." Pritkin said curtly."I said —""If you starve to death it would damage my professional reputation.""I eat plenty.""The same does not apply should I strangle you in understandable irritation, however.""I’ll have a sandwich," I told Nick. "No meat.

They-" He stopped and just blinked at me for a minute. "You know, people are always saying that you're cuckoo. Looney Tunes. Off the freaking edge. But I tell 'em, no, she's okay. She's got some...anger management issues. But you know what? They're right. You're nuts.

Great. I'd been dumped in Hell's waiting room.

I dodged behind Mac for cover and refused to take the bait. I glanced at my nonexistent watch. 'Oops, look at the time. Guess I have to be going now. Let's not do this again sometime, okay?'Before I could move, Pritkin was there, jamming the medallion into the skin of my upper arm.'Ow!'He looked at me expectantly. I glared at him. 'That hurt!'What do you see?'A big red mark,

The most temptation I'd experienced had been with Tomas, the Senate's spy who had been feeding off me without permission, and Mircea, who was probably plotting some nefarious scheme. I have no taste in men.

It's about time! It's supposed to be a ritual, not a marathon.

If I'd had enough breath, I would have screamed, both at the sensation and at the sheer pettiness of the bastard who wouldn't allow me even a tiny chance of escape.

Pritkin muttered something that sounded fairly vicious. “My clothes are warded! Even if I wished to accede to your demand, it would not work on them.”“Then strip.”“I beg your pardon?” He sounded almost polite suddenly, as if he believed he couldn’t possibly have heard right.

I'm tired, I'm hungry and I have a head in a bag," I warned him. "Do not fuck with me.

I moved to assist, but never got the chance. there was some pretty violent banging for a minute, and then a tearing sound. Finally the stall door flew open, and Ray's shirtless body emerged and started bitch-slapping everything in sight.His aim was off, probably due to the difficulty of having his eyes on the other side of the room, but he made up for it with sheer determination.

Pritkin, it’s a hotel room, not a death trap!” A glance over his shoulder showed him impatient blue eyes under a fall of messy blond curls. “Anyway, you’re here.”“I can’t protect you from everything,” he forced himself to say, because it was true. It was also frankly terrifying in a way that his own mortality was not. He’d never had children, but he sometimes wondered if this was how parents felt when catching sight of a fearless toddler confidently heading toward a busy street. Not that his charge was a child, as he was all too uncomfortably aware. But the knowledge of just how many potentially lethal pitfalls lay in her path sometimes caused him that same heart-clenching terror.And the same overwhelming need to throw her over his lap and spank the living daylights out of her, he thought grimly, when she suddenly popped out of existence. “Cassie!

It never ceases to amaze me how many people think I kill for fun.”“Don’t y

I was hoping that the first time you expressed affection for me, it would not be in a room full of strangers. And that you would not have just said it to a sniveling creature like that Raymond!” “I expressed affection for Ray?” “Yes!” “Man, I really must be drunk.” Louis-Cesare just looked at me. I blinked politely back, until I realized that he expected a response.

That wasn’t so bad,” I decided, after downing the shot. Maybe I was getting my rhythm. “Because you threw it over your shoulder,” Scarface told me, looking smug. “Did not.” I looked behind me, only to see an outraged vamp with fey wine dripping down his face. “Oops.” “It was for luck,” Ray said defensively, wrapping both my hands around a glass. “Drink!” I drank.

Dorina?" Louis Cesare's voice was loud in my ear. The one I had squeezed against thephone, which was squeezed against my sore shoulder, becuase I was using both hands tokeep Ray's point in his pants."The fey, damm it!" I told him. "They're for the fey!""Which one?" Louis Cesare asked, his voice going velvety soft."All of them- No Ray! Ray, cut it out!""All of them?

Aw, fudge,' floated down to me, as a couple of golden eyes peered over a third-floor window ledge. 'You're a freaking dhampir. Why are you reading Tolkien?'I shrugged, then had to dodge the potted geranium he threw at me. 'After five hundred years, you've read just about everything. Besides, he had hella world-building skills.

You look furious,” Pritkin said, watching me.“I just—I can’t understand not fighting for your life— for what you want. Just giving up—”A corner of his mouth quirked. “No. You would not understand that. You never stop trying, do you?”“What else is there?”“Despair. Hopelessness. Anger. Depression.”“But those don’t get you anywhere.”He huffed out something that might have been a laugh, only it didn’t sound happy. “No. They don’t.

What bug crawled up your ass?" I demanded."If you mean, why I am upset? I should think that would be obvious!"It took me a second, but I got it. "Oh, come on. You're not still pissed about–you did the same damn thing to me!"He had the utter gall to look offended. "I did nothing of the sort–"I stared at him. "And just how do you figure that? You stripped me butt naked, diddled me over a desk and stole my duffel bag. And my clothes!"Somebody made a choking sound. I glanced up to find the door to the study open, and the old vamp looking scandalized. "Diddled?" Anthony asked, apparently delighted. Mircea closed his eyes.

When good Americans die, they go to Paris,' the ghost said, after taking a drag on a small cigarette.But you’re not dead. I suppose the question must be, are you good?

How did you hear about that?''Are you kidding me? So far, I had that runt Kyle-''I hate him. I hate all vamps. That complete toad, Michael-''-tell me you were pregnant by a vamp-''kidnnaped me and-Kyle said WHAT?''and then a member of the Domi shows up and informs me-''The Domi sent someone HERE?''-that you're actually pregnant by the late king of the Fey.''Late?!' Heidar squeaked.

Louis-Cesare slowly pulled himself into a half-standing position against the side of the winery.'What? Did you think one little mage was going to do me in?' He swallowed hard. 'Hell, that was just a warm-up.

He wasn't that good looking, he had the social skills of a wet cat and the patience of a caffeinated hummingbird

This isn't sex."I blinked. "Oh. Then what is it?""An emergency!"I started to argue and then thought twice about it. Considering what Mircea would do to Pritkin if he ever found out about this...Yeah. Emergency sounded good.

Success. I turned back to my sandwich, only to find that it wasn’t there anymore. Maybe because it had been hijacked. “Give me that!” I told the vamp, who was holding it firmly against his chest, a determined look on his face. “What ees zat?” he demanded, eyeing my prize. “Cheese.” I held it up. “Zat ees not cheese.” “How do you know?” “Eet is orange.” “A lot of cheese is orange.” “Non! No cheese ees that color. Cheese comes from zee milk. Zee milk, eet ees white. When ’ave you seen milk that looks like zat?” I held up the square of little slices and pointed at the bold-faced label. “Processed American Cheese.” He snatched the package, without letting go of his hostage. And eyed it warily. “Eet says ‘cheese food.’” He looked up, obviously perplexed. “What ees thees? Zee cheese, it does not eat.

I remember watching an old Dracula movie once with Alphonse and having him laugh himself sick at the sight of a vamp only a few days out of the grave supposedly raising another one.He'd been impossible for weeks afterwards,mercilessly teasing all the weaker vamps in court about the three-day-old baby that was more powerful than them.

Louis-Cesare and Ray were in trouble.I could tell because I could see them, not clearly, but in fits and starts, little glimmers like a couple of ghosts, if ghosts made "oh shit" faces on the one hand agitated French gestures on the other. And that sort of shit wasn't going to go unnoticed for long.Aaaaand it didn't.

A gentleman would have announced himself!” I told him, pressing against the side of the tub. “And a scoundrel would have joined you.”-- Kit Marlowe to the witch Gillian (shortly before joining her in the tub!)

I wasn't entirely sure, but a polite John Pritkin might be a sign of the apocalypse.

I’m driving,” Louis-Cesare said, sliding into the low seat as easily as if he’d done it a hundred times. “You’re drunk.”I wished. “I had all of two beers, mostly for the water content.”“If you needed water, why didn’t you drink water?”“I don’t like water.

When good Americans die, they go to Paris,' the ghost said, after taking a drag on a small cigarette.

Fresh blood at midnight isn't red. It's a purplish black that easily blends into the shadows.

I felt betrayed and absolutely livid, but my body wasn’t smart enough to know it. It had liked the feel of his hands, wanted more of it, wanted it now. It was almost like there were two of me, one who heartily approved of the mage and one who would have dearly loved to see him dead.

The only good thing was that by midnight, even most of the bums had gone home to sleep it off. That was lucky for them, because Ray was the worst damn driver I’d ever seen. And that was after I jerked his head out of the duffel and parked it on the dashboard.“Gah! That makes it worse!” he told me, as I tried to get the eyes facing forward.“How can it possibly be worse?”“Because I got double vision now! Get it off! Get it off!”He batted at his own head and succeeded in sending it tumbling into Christine’s lap. She immediately went into hysterics and slapped it away. The head fell out of the car; Ray hit the brakes and we came to a screeching halt.“What are you doing?” I screeched, as he hopped out. “There are people firing at us!”“Tough!” came from somewhere under the car.