“Yeah.” Sven said. “The stuff she just said. Let’s not get all killy.”

“And she says, “Then let’s just take the effing road and get ourselves to Haven.”I smile, a little. “You said effing,” I say. “You actually said the word effing.”

“You know,” he said, “P.S.S. Piss Camp.” “Yeah, I get it,” I said, “It’s just not funny.”

“now look, she said, stretched out on the bed, I don’t want anything personal, let’s just do it, I don’t want to get involved, got it? she kicked off her high-heeled shoes… sure, he said, standing there, let’s just pretend that we’ve already done it, there’s nothing less involved than that, is there? what the hell do you mean? she asked. I mean, he said, I’d rather drink anyhow. and he poured himself one. it was a lousy night in Vegas and he walked to the window and looked out at the dumb lights. you a fag? she asked, you a god damned fag? no, he said. you don’t have to get shitty,...”

“Where'd you get that lighter?" she demanded."Frida," Dan said, closing it. "She left it behind. Remember how she was always talking about outdoorsy stuff? She said she kept a water-resistant lighter on her at all times, in case she needed emergency fire."There was a short beat of silence in the dumpster."Huh," said Dan. "Except probably now.”

“It's simple, really," Alaric Wulf said. " Lucien Antonescu is the prince of darkness." Jon nodded. "Yeah," he said. "We know. He's got a castle and stuff.”