“I want to see the front of you.”“That’s what all the girls say.”“Do you expect me to roll you over? ’Cuz I will.”“Your mate’s not going to like this.”“As if that’s going to bother you?”“True. It actually makes it worth the effort.”With a groan, he shoved his palms into the shimmering silver pool of blood beneath him, and flopped over like the side of beef he was.“Wow,” she breathed.“I know, right? Hung like a horse.”“If you’re really nice—and you live through this—I’ll promise not to tell V.”“About my size.”She laughed a little. “No, that you assumed I’d look at you in any fashion other than professionally.”

“Wow," she breathed."I know, right? Hung like a horse.""If you're really nice-and you live through this-I'll promise not to tell V.""About my size."She laughed a little, "No, that you assumed I'd look at you in any fashion other than professionally.”

“Jesus Christ. . . he was not Omega's son. Was he?"No." V said. "You are not. He just wants to believe you are. And he wants you to think you are. But that doesn't make it true."There was a long silence. Then Rhage's hand landed on Butch's shoulder. "Besides, you don't look a thing like him. I mean. . . hello? You are this beefy Irish white boy. He's like. . . bus exhaust or some shit."Butch glanced over at Hollywood. "You're sick, you know that?""Yeah, but you love me, right? Come on, I know you feel me.”

“V rolled the Aquafina bottle between his palms. "How long have you wanted to ask me the question? About the gay thing.""For a while.""Afraid of what I'd say?""Nope, because it doesn't matter to me one way or the other. I'm tight with you whether you like males or females or both."V looked into his best friend's eyes and realized… yeah, Butch wasn't going to judge him. They were cool no matter what.With a curse, V rubbed the center of his chest and blinked. He never cried but he felt as if he could at this moment.”

“Lassiter skidded in from the billiards room, the fallen angel glowing from his black-and-blond hair and white eyes, all the way down to his shitkickers. Then again, maybe the illumination wasn’t his nature, but that gold he insisted on wearing. He looked like a living, breathing jewelry tree. “I’m here. Where’s my chauffeur hat?” “Here, use mine,” Butch said, outing a B Sox cap and throwing it over. “It’ll help that hair of yours.” The angel caught the thing on the fly and stared at the red S. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” “Do not tell me you’re a Yankees fan,” V drawled. “I’ll have to kill you, and frankly, tonight we need all the wingmen we’ve got.” Lassiter tossed the cap back. Whistled. Looked casual. “Are you serious?” Butch said. Like the guy had maybe volunteered for a lobotomy. Or a limb amputation. Or a pedicure. “No fucking way,” V echoed. “When and where did you become a friend of the enemy—” The angel held up his palms. “It’s not my fault you guys suck—” Tohr actually stepped in front of Lassiter, like he was worried that something a lot more than smack talk was going to start flying. And the sad thing was, he was right to be concerned. Apart from their shellans, V and Butch loved the Sox above almost everything else—including sanity.”

“Wrath: What the hell are you supposed to ask?Rhage: I know! Who do you like the most? It's me right?Come on, you know it is. Come oooooonnnnn-Butch: If its you,, I'll kill myself.V: No, that just means she's blind.Rhage: It has to be me.V: She said she didn't like you at first.Rhage: Ah, but I won her over, which is more than anyone else can say about you, hot stuff.J.R.: I don't like anyone the bestWrath: Right answer.Rhage: She's just sparing all of you feelings. (grins, becoming impossibly handsome) She's so polite.J.R.: Next question?Rhage: Why do you like me the best?”

“My name...my name is Mary. I'm here with a friend.'Rhage stopped breathing. His heart skipped a beat and then slowed. "Say that again,' he whispered.'Ah, my name is Mary Luce. I'm a friend of Bella's...We came here with a boy, with John Matthew. We were invited.'Rhage shivered, a balmy rush blooming out all over his skin. The musical lilt of her voice, the rhythm of her speech, the sound of her words, it all spread through him, calming him, comforting him. Chaining him sweetly.He closed his eyes. 'Say something else.''What?' she asked, baffled.'Talk. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice.'She was silent, and he was about to demand that she speak when she said, 'You don't look well. Do you need a doctor?'He found himself swaying. The words didn't matter. It was her sound: low, soft, a quiet brushing in his ears. He felt as if here being stroked on the inside of his skin. 'More,' he said, twisting his palm around to the front of her neck so he could feel the vibrations in her throat better. 'Could you... could you please let go of me?''No.' He brought his other arm up. She was wearing some kind of fleece, and he moved the collar aside, putting his hand on her shoulder so she couldn't get away from him. 'Talk.'She started to struggle. 'You're crowding me.''I know. Talk.''Oh for God's sake, what do you want me to say?'Even exasperated, her voice was beautiful. 'Anything.''Fine. Get your hand off my throat and let me go or I'm going to knee you where it counts.'He laughed. Then sank his lower body into her, trapping her with his thighs and hips. She stiffened against him, but he got an ample feel of her. She was built lean, though there was no doubt she was female. Her breasts hit his chest, her hips cushioned his, her stomach was soft.'Keep talking,' he said in her ear. God, she smelled good. Clean. Fresh. Like lemon.When she pushed against him, he leaned his full weight into her. Her breath came out in a rush.'Please,' he murmured. Her chest moved against his as if she were inhaling. 'I... er, I have nothing to say. Except get off of me.'He smiled, careful to keep his mouth closed. There was no sense showing off his fangs, especially if she didn't know what he was. 'So say that.''What?''Nothing. Say nothing. Over and over and over again. Do it.' She bristled, the scent of fear replaced by a sharp spice, like fresh, pungent mint from a garden. She was annoyed now. 'Say it.'"Fine. Nothing. Nothing.' Abruptly she laughed, and the sound shot right through to his spine, burning him. 'Nothing, nothing. No-thing. No-thing. Noooooothing. There, is that good enought for you? Will you let me go now?”