“You’re one in a million, John Matthew,”

“And you work for that demon, right? The one who looks like Matthew Broderick?”“John Cusack,” I corrected. “He looks like John Cusack.”“Whatever.”

“Slipping in the side door to the VIP section , she scanned the crowd , well aware that she was looking for one male in particular.And he was there. Fucking John Matthew.”

“John Matthew was her well of soul, as the symphaths called it,or her pyrocant, to the vampires. Her essential weakness.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “You’re through.” “Jesus,” he finally managed, pushing water off his face. “Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. For that matter, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John.” Still not enough. He needed to reach back to the Old Testament for this. “Obadiah. Nebuchadnezzar. Methuselah and Job.” “Be calm,” she said, taking him by the shoulders. “Be calm. And there are women in the Bible, you know.” “Yes. As I recall it, they were trouble, every last one.”

“The thing had woken him up as usual, an alarm clock. as reliable and stiff off the ground as Big Fucking Ben. [John Matthew]”