“I told you, Ms. Lane, never believe anything is dead-""- I know, I know, until you've 'burned it, poked around in its ashes, and then waited a day or two to see if anything rises from them.”

“Don't celebrate yet, Ms. Lane. Don't believe anything is dead until you've burned it, poked around in its ashes, and then waited a day or two to see if anything rises from them.”

“From who?” “From whom, I believe is the correct phrasing.” “All right, from-the-fuck-whom, Ms. Lane?”

“You've mistaken me for someone else. Do not wait on me, Ms. Lane. Do not construct your world around mine. I'm not that man.""Screw you, Barrons.""I'm not that man, either.”

“I heard there are no male sidhe-seers."Where did you hear that?"Around."And which one of those are you in doubt about Ms. Lane?"Which one of what?"Whether I see the Fae, or whether I'm a man. I believe I've laid your mind to rest on the former; shall I relieve it on the latter?" He reached for his belt.Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "You're a leftie, Barrons."Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmered.”

“The two of you are getting downright chatty, aren't you, Ms. Lane? When did you last see him? what else did he tell you?I'm asking the questions tonight.If an illusion of control comforts you, Ms. Lane, by all means, cling to it.”

“Last night you said you wanted to know what to expect so you could better select your attire. I told you we were going to visit a vampire in a Goth-den tonight. Why, then, Ms. Lane, do you look like a perky rainbow?”