“What? It’s not my blood!”“Let me see it,” Julian demanded, and a moment later there were sounds of a scuffle from the back seat.“I am AB positive and this is distinctly type O blood!” Ty finally shouted at him. “Look at the little Os!”

“Sam talking to a frat boy - "You. O Positive. How many exits?" "What?....Oh shit, did you just call me by my blood type?”

“I bite back a shiver as the blood rushes up to blush my cheeks and for a moment, just for this moment, I drop my bones and allow him to hold me together.”

“Deuce glanced at him before turning his attention back to Zane and Julian. “Dare I ask what you’ve done to deserve protective custody?” he asked Julian. “I deal antiques,” Julian answered in a soft voice. Deuce nodded, looking Julian up and down. He turned his head to look at Ty speculatively. “That’s a euphemism for ‘I kill things’, isn’t it?”

“What do you want, MacGuffin, a duel?”“No.” Julian held out both hands, one palm flat, the other held over it in a fist. “Rock, paper, scissors. Two out of three.”Ty rolled his eyes and held out his fist, apparently willing to play. Julian hit his palm three times, and Ty kept time with his fist in the air. But when Julian threw a paper, Ty reached into his jacket with his other hand and pulled his gun, aiming it at Julian.“Ty!” Zane said in exasperation from the front seat.“Glock, paper, scissors. I win.”“You are an ass,” Julian muttered.”

“Let everyone see the blood,' he said. 'Don't clean it up. That's the only way people remember.'... I could see the blood inside my head. It was with me forever, whether or not I wanted to forget.”