“Once upon a time, when I was a child reading fairy tales, I'd ached to have my own adventures. Not that I'd wanted to be some dippy heroine languishing in a tower, awaiting rescue. No, I'd wanted to be the knight, charging into battle against overwhelming odds, or the plucky country lass who gets taken on as an apprentice to a great wizard. As I got older, I'd found out the hard way that adventures are rarely anything like the books say. Half the time you are scared out of your mind, and the rest you're bored and your feet hurt. I was beginning to believe that maybe I wasn't the adventurous type.”

“I started to get up, but that hand tightened on my foot. I wanted to pace, needed to let off some of the nervous energy that kept me from eating half the time, kept me from sleeping. And just when I told myself I was being paranoid and everything would be fine, something tried to drown me in the goddamned bathtub.But I didn't get up. Because then I'd lose that bried, human connection. A connection that shouldn;t have been there, because Priktin wasn't the touchy-feely type. He touched me in training, when he had to, and grabbed me in the middle of crises. But I actually couldn't recall him ever touching me just ... because.”

“I didn't really want to talk. I'd wanted him there, but I asn't sure why. Maybe just to have someone to drink with. Actually, that sounded pretty good at the moment. I sat on the seat of the chaise and he sat on the foot, and we just drank at each other for a while.After a few minutes, he leaned back against the railing, like maybe he wanted a backrest, and I shifted my feet over to make room. But I guess I didn't shift far enough, because a large, warm hand covered my right foot, adjusting it slightly. And then it just stayed there, like he'd forgotten to remove it. I looked at it. Pritkin's hands were oddly refined compared to the rest of him: strong but long fingered, with elegant bones and short-clipped nails. They always looked like they'd wandered off from some fine gentleman, one they'd probably like to get back to, because God knew they weren't getting a manicure while attached to him.”

“Start ringing things up then. This won't take long.""Which ones?""I don't care." I push some at her. "These.""These?" She looked dubious."Why not these?"She glanced at Ray. "'Cause if that's your man, I'd say you can leave these off.""Oh, no, you didn't." Ray said."What's this shit?" Ray demanded, looking at the saleclerk."Honey, truth hurts, but ain't no way you're a Magnum.""Well, I ain't no medium!"The clerk smiled. "Yeah, but I was being generous.""What are you doing?" The clerk demanded as Ray grabbed another box. "I ain't rung those up yet."Ray pulled out a foil package and tossed the box back on the counter. "So ring it up."She arched an eyebrow, but didn't bother, maybe because she was watching him unbutton his fly. I caught his wrist. "What are you doing?""Proving a point.""Not in the middle of the store, you're not.""Ain't nobody here," the cashier reminded me. "And ain't no way he's filling that thing out.”

“The most temptation I'd experienced had been with Tomas, the Senate's spy who had been feeding off me without permission, and Mircea, who was probably plotting some nefarious scheme. I have no taste in men.”

“To know Pritkin was to want to kill him, but so far I'd resisted temptation.”

“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.”