“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.”

“Granuaile looked terminally depressed when she emerged from the bathroom with raven hair and, as a result rather Goth by accident. She didn't want to get her picture taken."Aughh!" she said miserably, looking in the vanity mirror in the truck of the cab and fingering a wavy curl near her temple. "This sucks more than anything has ever sucked before. You know what we look like? A couple of emo douche bags.""Well, look at the bright side, Granuaile. Emo Douche Bags would be a great band name."[That's brilliant! It's already the unofficial name of more bands than I can count.]”

“I gladly shucked off my wet, muddy jeans and put on the new pair. I noticed she hadn't bought me any underwear; Granuaile either didn't think of it or she did think of it and decided that I should go commando.I tore open the package of undershirts and gingerly pulled a black one over my head before tucking it into my jeans. Though I was now dressed in similar fashion to Coyote, I figured he could keep the cowboy hat and I'd rock the tattoos. Granuaile gave me a good once-over and her gaze felt less than innocent, but all she said was, "Much better.”

“I can’t cut back. I’ve turned into a sex addict. I get within a foot of Ranger or Morelli and I’m ready to go … and go, and go, and go, and go.”“That’s a lot of going. I’m a retired professional, and it’d be a lot of going even for me. What you need are granny panties. You put on a big ol’ pair of ugly granny panties and you won’t be dropping your drawers no more. And even if you forget in the heat of the moment, and you pull your skirt up over your head, you’re not gonna see no action on account granny panties have a deflating effect on a man. Your man’s gonna be going unh ah, no way am I getting busy with a woman wearing granny panties.”

“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.”

“Malina looked incredulous. "Are you anything more than a Druid?""Of course I am. I own this shop and I play a mean game of chess, and I've been told that I'm a frakkin' Cylon.""What's a frakkin' Cylon?""I don't know, but it sounds really scary when you say it with a Polish Accent.”

“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.”