“I cocked an ear, but there was nothing much to hear. A girl was on the phone next door, complaining about some guy to a girlfriend, and someone down a floor was either talking to his cat or having a psychotic episode, but both voices were clearer than the soft noises coming from the living room. The vamps were presumably cleaning the wounds better than I’d been able to do at the bar, and bandaging him up. I knew nobody was planning a snack– it would be like offering people used to Beluga caviar and Dom Perignon a sack of stale Fritos and a flat Coke. Sloppy seconds weren’t likely to appeal. ”

“There was some sort of commotion going on outside, and I decided I’d had enough. I went to the door and stuck my head out. Marco was gasping for breath on the sofa, and two of the guards were bent over a cell phone.“What are you doing?” I demanded.“Trying to record this,” the smart-ass from the shopping trip told me. “Nobody is going to believe us otherwise.”“Well, cut it out. It isn’t funny!”“On what planet?”I glared at him, which did no good,because he simply went back to to tinkering with the phone. So I looked at Marco. “Can’t you do anything with them?”Marco flopped a hand at me, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks, and tried to say something. But all that came out for several moments were asthmatic wheezes. I bent over his prone form, starting to worry about him, and he put a hand on my neck and pulled me down.” It…is…funny,” he gasped.”

“How did you hear about that?''Are you kidding me? So far, I had that runt Kyle-''I hate him. I hate all vamps. That complete toad, Michael-''-tell me you were pregnant by a vamp-''kidnnaped me and-Kyle said WHAT?''and then a member of the Domi shows up and informs me-''The Domi sent someone HERE?''-that you're actually pregnant by the late king of the Fey.''Late?!' Heidar squeaked.”

“I drank some too-hot coffee and scowled at him, annoyed although I couldn't remember why. The light from the lounge was leaking in, highlighting his spiky blond hair. I decided that must be it. "You really hate my hair, don't you?" he asked, a smile flickering over his lips so fast I might have imagined it."Yeah""Why?"I reached out to touch it, and was surprised as always to find it mostly soft. Just a little stiff in places from whatever product he used on it. It felt weird, imagining Pritkin having anything in his hair but sweat. But he must have; nobody's did that all on its own."It's like...angry hair," I said, trying to pat it down and failing miserably.He caught my wrist. "Most people would say that suits me.""I'm not most people.""I know.”

“Dorina?" Louis Cesare's voice was loud in my ear. The one I had squeezed against thephone, which was squeezed against my sore shoulder, becuase I was using both hands tokeep Ray's point in his pants."The fey, damm it!" I told him. "They're for the fey!""Which one?" Louis Cesare asked, his voice going velvety soft."All of them- No Ray! Ray, cut it out!""All of them?”

“I’d like for you to tell me who you are.” The man blinked. “David Dryden.” I just looked at him. “Your one o’clock?” “My one o’clock what?” “Date,” the third vamp said, grinning. “For what?” I asked, confused. “Well, you know.” The mage looked a little awkward suddenly. “The usual.” “I think we’ve got a contender here, boys,” the brunet said. “Smooth operator,” the second vamp agreed.”

“I'm fine," I told him tersely."Of course you are. You're one of the strongest people I know."It took me a second to process that, because he'd said it so casually. Like he was talking about the weather or what time it was. Only Pritkin didn't say things like that. His idea of a compliment was a nod and to tell me to do whatever it was I'd just done over again. Like that was usually possible.But that had sounded suspiciously like a compliment to me.”