“It was no place for a Kabra, not even a poor one living in exile with a psychopathic cat.He approached the counter and rand the bell with authority. The clerk turned around.Evan Tolliver."You're Amy's cousin!""Yes, I am," Ian confirmed. "I have here a list of items–""Have you heard from her?" Evan interrupted. "Is she okay?""Her health is excellent.""No, I mean–"Ian sighed. "Why should you care? She promises to phone you, and she doesn't. You were nearly arrested, thanks to her. There's a message in there somewhere, don't you agree?"Evan nodded sadly. "I kind of think so, too. But we were awesome together. She's smart, fun to be with, and not immature like most of the girls in our school. It's as if she has an automatic switch for when it's time to be serious–she can almost be old beyond her years at times. Where do you learn something like that?""I have no earthly idea," Ian lied.”

“Where's Amy?" Ian put in. "Will you please get her to call that Evan character? He rings here twenty times a day. He's either the most mule-headed person who ever lived, or he really likes your sister. She has to have mercy on him–on all of us!”

“Who's Evan?" Ian asked."Amy's boyfriend!""Amy, since when do you have a boyfriend?" Ian probed."Since none of your business!”

“The computer beeped as the upload completed. A moment later, Ian Kabra appeared on the screen.Dan was surprised. "Hey, Ian, isn't it, like, two in the morning back there?""It's called jet lag," Ian informed him. "I'm still on London time. I don't suppose you savages have any tea in this mausoleum.""There's a diet Snapple in the fridge."Ian shuddered. "I thought not.”

“Who's that new guy with the snooty accent who came out and talked to the police?" Evan persisted. "He looks like some kind of male model.""That's just my cousin Ian," Amy explained."Not much of a family resemblance," Evan noted sourly."He's like a twenty-fifth cousin, ten times removed."Evan was not satisfied.”

“Sinead broke in. "The cops need to know what to do with Evan, Amy. What should I tell them?""Shoot to kill?" Ian suggested.”

“Ow!""Hold still," Sinead ordered. "And don't be such a baby." She dabbed at the angry red mark behind Ian's ear. "Cat scratches are prone to infection, you know.""And that's my fault?" Ian raged. "Why don't you lock that animal in the cellar? Or, better still, send him to a violen string factory! Ow! What is this stuff–acid?""My own concoction," she replied cheerfully. "Amy and I use it on our blisters when we do marathon training. Soothing, right?""They practice this kind of soothing in the Lucian stronghold–during interrogations.”