“Keep your vampire mitts off me. I'm not your friggin' blood toy.”

“Death and blood didn’t turn on a vampire. Fear and the chance to take blood did. There was a difference.”

“Do you have a finger stick?” she snapped. “No.” “Then let me cut your finger.” “You’re already bleeding,” I said. “Use your blood.”

“Ah, Jenks? It’s not a lake, it’s a friggin’ freshwater ocean. Did you see the size of the tanker going under the bridge when we came into town? The wake from it could tip us. I’m not canoeing it unless your name is Pocahontas.”

“Uh... ," Ivy stammered, and I glanced up to see her eyes wide in consideration."I'm kidding," I said. "It passed the lethal-amulet test, remember?""Not that. You keep it in your underwear drawer?"I hesitated, wondering why I was embarrassed. "Well, where do you put your elven magic?" I asked.”

“Get your hand off me,” I exclaimed, voice loud with misplaced anger as I yanked away from his grip. “I’m a professional, not some distraught girlfriend.” Well, I was that too, but I knew how to act at a crime scene.”

“I am yours," Trent gasped through clenched teeth, and my hand sprang from him, thinking I was betrayed. Trent fell to a knee, looking up at me, pleading. "I. Am. Yours. Claim me, Rachel! Damn your morals and claim me!”