“You let the cops in. Thy've brought in a ram to take down the front door. A white chick in an evening gown will settle the cops faster than a brother with guns.”

“My brother has absolutely no sense of self-preservation or survival instinct,” Eli said. “He has no idea we’re out here. We could be silver-eating, flesh-regenerating, vampire zombies, and when we busted through the door to eat his brilliant brain, he’d look up and say, ‘Huh?”

“Yeah. You treat him like a son or a soldier, instead of like a brother. He wants you to like him and admire him and love him. Maybe in that order.”

“I figured even the most jaded and cynical inhabitant might report a bloody girl in a party dress carrying a severed head by its hair.”

“Chicken, yeah, that's me. I'd rather fight an old rogue-vamp in my underwear, with my bare hands, than deal with relationship problems.”

“Jodi in tactical gear was something to behold. Pert, a lot shorter than I am, blond hair tucked under a helmet, cinched into body armor never intended to mold to the body of a curvy woman. Ugly but efficient attire. Someone needs to talk to armor designers about female body shapes and style.”

“I would give,” he said, his voice rough, “everything I am to keep you from being hurt.”