“She wondered if there was a rule against shellans riding. Probably not... As long as she was sidesaddle, dressed in armor plating, and had a helmet made of reinforced, skid-resistant Kevlar, they'd probably let her go a few circles around the fountain in front of the house. Vroom-vroom. Fucking wheeeeeeee.”

“Shit. . . this was a bad idea. A pure-blooded, bonded male vampire about to watch his shellan feed someone else. Holy hell, when the Scribe Virgin had suggested Beth come down, V had assumed it was for ceremonial purposes, not so she could be a vein. But what was the choice? Butch was going to suck Marissa dry and not have enough and there wasn't another female in the house who could do the job: Mary was still human and Bella was pregnant.Besides, like dealing with Rhage or Z would be any easier? For the beast, they'd need a tranq gun the size of a cannon and Z. . . well, shit.”

“In the silence, she felt the past and the present shift and mix, but that was a mirage. There was no way to comfort the lost boy he'd been back then. But she had the grown male.She had him right in her arms, and for a brief moment of whimsy, she imagined that she was never, ever going to let him go.”

“There was a loud scraping noise as five chairs slid backward. The men rose as a unit. And started coming for her. She looked to the faces of the two she knew, but their grave expressions weren't encouraging. And then the knives came out. With a metallic whoosh, five black daggers were unsheathed. She backed up frantically, hands in front of herself. She slammed into a wall and was about to scream for Wrath when the men dropped down on bended knees in a circle around her. In a single movement, as if they'd been choreographed, they buried the daggers into the floor at her feet and bowed their heads. The great whoomp of sound as steel met wood seemed both a pledge and a battle cry. The handles of the knives vibrated. The rap music continued to pound. They seemed to be waiting for some kind of response from her. "Umm. Thank you," she said. The men's heads lifted. Etched into the harsh planes of their faces was total reverence. Even the scarred one had a respectful expression. And then Wrath came in with a squeeze bottle of Hershey's syrup. "Bacon's on the way." He smiled. "Hey, they like you." "And thank God for that," she murmured, looking down at the daggers.”

“And it was funny. The silence of him had a bizarre effect on her. Normally, she was the quiet one in situations, preferring to keep her own council and not share her thoughts on anything. But with John's mute presence, she felt curiously compelled to talk."I'm stuffed," she said, lying back against the pillows. As he cocked a brow and lifted the last Danish, she shook her head."God...no. I couldn't manage another thing."And it was only then that he began to eat."You waited for me ?" she said, frowning. When he ducked her gaze and shrugged, she cursed softly." You didn't have to."Another shrug. As she watched him, she murmured, "You have beautiful table manners." His blush was the color of Valentine's Day and she had to tell her heart to calm the fuck down as it started to beat fast.”

“With a sudden flash of anger, she blurted, "Lash wasn't impotent, all right? He wasn't ... impotent-"The temperature in the room plummeted so fast and so far, her breath came out in clouds.And what she saw in the mirror made her swing around and take a step back from John: His blue eyes glowed with an unholy light and his upper lip curled up to reveal fangs that were sharp and so long they looked like daggers.Objects all around the room began to vibrate: the lamps on the bed stands, the clothes on their hangers, the mirror on the wall. The collective rattling crescendoed to a dull roar and she had to steady herself on the bureau or run the risk of being knocked on her ass.The air was alive. Supercharged. Electric.Dangerous.And John was the center of the raging energy, his hands cranking into fists so tight his forearms trembled, his thighs grabbing onto his bones as he sank down into fighting stance.John's mouth stretched wide as his head shot forward on his spine... and he let out a war cry-Sound exploded all around her, so loud she had to cover her ears, so powerful she felt the blast against her face.For a moment, she thought he'd found his voice- except it wasn't vocal cords making that bellowing noise.The glass in the sliders blew out behind him, the sheets shattering into thousands of shards that blasted free of the house, the fragments bouncing on the slate and catching the light like raindrops...Or like tears.”

“His blush was the color of Valentine's Day and she had to tell her heart to calm the fuck down as it started to beat fast.”