“Pale hair fell in waves to his shoulders, framing a face mortal females considered a sensual feast. They didn't know the man was actually a devil in angel's skin. They should have, though. He practically glowed with irreverence, and there was an unholy gleam in his green eyes that proclaimed he would laugh in your face while cutting out your heat. Or laugh in your face while you cut out his heart.”

“Give me the effing phone, Strider grumbled, opening his palm and waving his fingers. Effing? William laughed with genuine amusement. You ever realize how polite you get when you're hammered? And you know what they say. A man's true charactor is revealed when he's toasted. So you gotta face facts, man. You're a closet gentlmen. Loser!The heck I am!Even Paris laughed at that.”

“I tried to tell you. You said you didn't care, remember?"A muscle ticked below his eye. "You should have told me anyway.""While you had barbells within your reach? Please. I'm Disease, not Stupid.”

“William slapped him on the shoulder, sending Sex into rapturous convulsions. “Before we do this, I’ve got one question for you. And you can’t lie. This is too important.”A bit sick to his stomach at what such a debaucher could want to know, Paris cast his attention to the black-haired, blue-eyed he-devil. “Ask.”“Are you going to suggest I kiss you for good luck or strength or whatever it is your sex demon needs?”That earned the warrior a two-fingered salute.“So that’s a no?” William asked.Paris worked his jaw. “Here, let me help you off the cliff to the drawbridge.” With no more warning, he shoved William over the ledge. He thought he heard a fading, “ So not cool,” from the bastard as he fell…fell…Splat.”

“I have never battled a gargoyle before.” Zacharel shook his head, a dark lock of hair tumbling into one emerald eye. Damp from the melting snow, the hair stuck to his skin. He didn’t seem to notice. “But I am certain these will murder Paris before willingly carrying him inside.”As if he were the only intelligent life form left in existence, William splayed his arms. “And the problem with that? He’ll still be inside, exactly where he wants to be. And by the way,” he added, blinking at Paris with lashes so long they should have belonged to a girl. “Your new permanent eyeliner is very pretty. You’ll make a good-looking corpse.”Do not react. He did, and the teasing about his ash/ambrosia tattoos would never end. “Thanks.”“I prefer the lip liner, though. A nice little feminine touch that really makes your eyes pop.”“Again, thanks,” he gritted.He wants us!Stupid demon.William grinned. “Maybe we can make out later. I know you want me.”Tell him yes!Not another word out of you, or—“Paris? Warrior?” Zacharel said. “Are youlistening to me?”“No.”Zach nodded, apparently not the least offended. “I enjoy your honesty, though I believe you suffer from what the humans call ADD.”“Oh, yeah. I definitely have attention deficient demon.”

“You should be wearing green," she said. "To match your eyes.""In case you never noticed, my eyes are gray.""Never mind that," she said, once again waving my words away. "That brown washes out your skin tone."Why was she so concerned about my clothing choices? That was completely unlike her. "I like to look washed out," I said dryly. "Otherwise people are intimidated by my glorious beauty.”

“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--”