“Did you learn to dress that way in Leather for Bad Boys one-oh-one?”

“The unicorn : I'm not a chihuahua, you know.Abby : You hump my leg like one.”

“Lok’tar ogar!” The daemon holding me pulled my head back, exposing my throat.“Victory or death,” I retorted at my captor hoarsely. “For the Horde. And for the record, shouting World of Warcraft battlecries kind of kills the whole ‘imminent death’ expectation.”The daemon paused. “What server are you on?” he demanded.“Blackhand.”“Righteous. Guild?”I couldn’t imagine what the hell that mattered at this point, but it was keeping me alive so that was a bonus. I’d gladly spit outthe rest of my Warcraft stats if it bought me a few more minutes.“Yeah,” I coughed. “ElfhunterBitches.”He blinked and then grinned, tapping himself on the chest. “No shit. I’m TartBarbie. Undead DeathKnight.”I stared at him. “TB? Seriously? I’m Baconator. Blelf Warlock. You did a hell of a job tanking on that raid the other night.”“Yeah, I am pretty awesome.” He glanced over his shoulder, releasing me. “Look, if I’d known it was you, I’d never haveagreed to this. Go on.” He nudged me with a leather boot. “I’ll tell them you got away.”I didn’t have to be told twice. “Thanks,” I said softly. “I’ll make it up to you, somehow.”“No worries.” He winked. “See you next Thursday.”

“Since you couldn't be bothered to give me your name, I'll just tell Moira that an extra from the porno version of Something Wicked This Way Comes was looking for her.”

“I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

“Why can’t I quit you?”

“If you masturbate, would that make you an incubator?”I eyed him sideways, struggling not to laugh at his nonplussed expression or the sharp bark of mock outrage that followed.”