“If only we could have picked our family...”

“It is an apology,” he said, “for not believing in you . . . or in us. Yesterday, I thought I’d lost you, and then we fought together,” he said. “I pushed you away for fear of what our relationship would do, could do, to this House. And then we protected this House together. That is the true measure of what we could do.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” “Why,” he asked, “should we not be dancing?” “It’s not real.” “It could be.”

“Stop. That was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened." "No?""No." "I could offer you more.” "What?” "Power. Access. Rewards. You’d need be available only to me.” "Are you asking me to be your mistress?” "Yes.” "Oh, my God.” "Is that a yes?” "No, Ethan, Jesus. Definitely not.”

“That's our cue to depart." "They know something " I pointed out. "I know something too. I know we're going to attract a lot of unwanted attention if they keep screaming. And then we have to make up some ridiculous explanation about how we heard screaming through the vents in our rooms and we followed the sound back to the basement and we found these girls lying on the ground and pretending to be tied up by invisible rope because they're practicing for the regional mime championships." I blinked at her. "Is that explanation more or less believable than we woke up because two girls who are actually evil magicians tripped a magical alarm wired to a door in the basement we aren't supposed to know about " Scout paused for a minute then nodded. "Point made.”

“You have to call Darth Sullivan your 'Liege'?"I grinned. "Only if I expect him to answer.”

“You've got better boobs," I acknowledged. And just as we'd done each time we'd had this boobs-versus-legs conversation, we looked down at our chests. Ogled. Compared.”