“How would you take care of it?” I asked.He shrugged. “I know some ghouls. I make a couple calls, the guys come over for dinner, problem solved.”“They can put away nine whole giants? There’s that many ghouls in town?”“Probably not,” Leif admitted. “But whatever they do not eat tonight, they’ll take the rest to go.”I stared at him in disbelief. “You mean like a doggie bag?”The vampire nodded with a thin trace of a smile. “They have a refrigerated truck, Atticus. These are practical guys.”

“That's the famous vampire Helgarson you're riding with, isn't it? Is he fond of lattes?""I don't know." I looked over at Leif, who was grinning-he was hearing both sides of the conversation, of course-and said, "Malina wants to know if you like lattes, and I want to know if you're famous.""No to both," he said, as we screamed onto the 202 on-ramp."Sorry, Malina," I said to the phone. "He's not famous.""Perhaps it would be better to call infamous. It is irrelevant at this point. What is relevant is that my sisters and I are not great warriors. Were the odds even and they did not cheat with modern weapons, I would say, yes, we could walk in and win a magical battle against most opponents. But we are outnumbered more than three to one.""How many are there?""Twenty-two. Some of them have firearms, but they are not great warriors either. And while they may be expecting you, Mr. O'Sullivan, they will not be expecting Mr. Helgarson to get involved. I imagine the two of you together will be quite formidable.""She's complimenting our martial prowess, Leif," I said to him."I feel more manly already," He said. The short distance on the 202 was already covered and we were merging onto the southbound 101."Hey, Malina, tell me how much you want to see us play with our swords.”

“I see. And who is this author?”“Neil Fucking Gaiman.”“His second name is Fucking?”“No, Leif, that’s the honorary second name all celebrities are given by their fans. It’s not an insult, it’s a huge compliment, and he’s earned it. You’d like him. He dresses all in black like you. Read a couple of his books, and then when you meet him, you’ll squee too.”Leif found the suggestion distasteful. “I would never behave with so little dignity. Nor would I wish to be confronted in such a manner by anyone else. Vampires inspire screams, not squees. Involuntary urination is common, I grant, but it properly flows from a sense of terror, not an ecstatic sense of hero worship.”

“This guy is an epic douche. Kick his shiny ass, Atticus, Oberon said.I compartmentalized his comment and resolved to enjoy it later. I glared at this would be usurper and said in my most authoritative voice, "Aenghus Og, you have broken Druidic law by killing the land around us and opening a gate to hell, unleashing demons on this plane. I judge you guilty and sentence you to death."Amen, Atticus! Testify!”

“You're trying to be cool now, Leif? Seriously?""I am the shit, home slice, straight up," he replied."No. I mean, don't get me wrong, this is a great effort, but you still need to use more contractions. And your tone is so formal, it's like you're complimenting the pudding at a duke's dinner party.""Fucking H!" the vampire shouted, shaking his free left fist. He enunciated the g very clearly and projected his voice from his diaphragm, like a trained opera singer."It's fuckin' A, not H, but yeah Leif, go ahead, let's throw down.”

“You, sir," I said, "have all the dignity of a badger with the clap. Shark shit has more fiber than you. I'm going to tie your nuts-first to a monkey's cage and make a mix tape of the resulting noise. Then I'm going to take a bag of marshmallows and a pair of granny panties and-"...... He didn't want to know what I was going to do with those granny panties. Surprisingly, Granuaile did. "Sensei, what were you going to do with those marshmallows and panties?" she whispered as we walked together. "I mean, I'm sure it had to be dire, but it just didn't sound as threatening as the potential havoc a monkey could wreak on his sack.""There was more to that recipe," I admitted. "He cut me off before I could get to the Icy Hot and the gopher snake.”

“I think he got your goat, Atticus! And I've been meaning to ask you about the expression. When people get your goat, what do they do with it? Do they eat it or hold it for ransom or what?”