“What is your problem?” I asked, scooping the freezing mess out of my cleavage. “We got unfinished business,” he reminded me. “My name’s not Bill.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I loved that movie. Shoulda brought a katana, but it seemed like an unfair advantage.”

“Damn it, the man needed a keeper. Yeah, sure he did. A dark-haired, dimpled, dhampir keeper, which wasn’t going to happen, so just shut up. Sometimes I didn’t think it mattered what Mircea did in my head, because I was already crazy anyway. “It’s like someone invented you just to mess with me,” I said resentfully. “Quoi?” I sighed.”

“We cannot do this now!" ...."Sure we can."He scowled.... "Go home, Dory.""Give me what I want and I will!"Radu appeared in the doorway. "I know this is a stupid question before I ask it, but is there any chance that we can discuss this like civilized people?"Louis-Cesare.... stepped back a pace and dangled the duffel of one long finger. "Come and get it."I stared. "Oh, no, you didn't.""Oh, yeah. He did. You gonna take that?" Raymond piped up...."You really want to do this?" I demanded.... The only answer I got was a flying tackle that caught me around the knees and sent me skidding on my back over hard wood.I grinned. Well, all right then."That's what I thought." Radu sighed.”

“I stared at him, unable to believe this was happening. That he could justdisappear, along with everything rich and strange he’d brought into my life.Vanished, like magic.”

“My nerves needed a break, not a reminder of how much trouble we were in. I prowled around, but it didn't help. I still felt like my skin was on too tight.”

“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 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.”