“He willed his body to remain unaffected. Sabin would fuss if Strider sported a hard-on around his precious. And, of course, "fuss" meant Strider would find his intestines wrapped around his neck, breathing a thing of the past.”

“We're on vacation, Kaia, Strider grumbled. You weren't invited.She waved away his words as if they were unimportant. Deep down I know you meant to invite me, so ta-da. Here I am. You're welcome.It's scary how well you know us. Here, pay for this, William said, dumping his candy into Strider's arms. We'll be in the care. Making out.”

“Hate. Huh. He'd never hated himself. If anything, he'd always liked himself a little too much. Once, a human female had even accused him of picturing his own face while he climaxed. He hadn't denied it, either, and next time he'd slept with her, he'd made sure to scream, "Strider" at the pivotal moment." --Strider, keeper of the demon of Defeat--”

“Twenty-seven.”His brow puckered, and he blinked over at her. “Twenty-seven hundred years, right?”If he were speaking to Taliyah, yes. “No. Just twenty-seven plain, ordinary years.”“You don’t mean human years, do you?”“No. I mean dog years,” she said dryly, then pressed her lips together. Where was the filter that was usually poised over her mouth? Strider didn’t seem to mind, though. Rather, he seemed stupefied. Would Sabin have had the same reaction were he awake? “What’s so hard to believe about my age?” As the question echoed between them, a thought occurred to her and she blanched. “Do I look ancient?”“No, no. Of course not. But you’re immortal. Powerful.”

“Bianka," he said, his patience clearly waning. "This is not a game. Do not make me bind you to my bed.""Ohhh, now that I like. Sounds kinky." She darted around him running her fingertips over his cheek, his neck. "You're as soft as a baby."He sucked in a breath, stiffened. "Bianka.""But better equipped.""Bianka!"She patted his butt. "Yes?”

“And at one point (cough) walking into a chicks knife (cough), he'd finally won.'I'm king of the world, bitches. Come in here and bask in my glory.' His voice echoed through the foyer, expectant eager.-Strider”

“Strider's bedroom "The only thing hanging on the wall that wasn't a weapon was the portrait just over the bed. No. Not true, he thought then. The portrait was a weapon, too. Of seduction. In it Strider was utterly naked and whisking through the cloads like an avenging angel. He was holding a teddy bear in one hand and a stream of pink ribbons in the other. Anya had given him the nearly life-size monstrasity as a joke. But the joke was on her. He loved the thing.”