“You try getting through the Hollows traffic with a stoned redhead hanging out the window shouting, 'I'm king of the world!' ~Lee”

“Okay, you drive," she said. "I'll sit with m head hanging out of the window like a golden retriever.”

“I told you, computers are like women. If you shout at them or ask them to do too many things at once, they shut down and you won't even get a sniff”

“She just threatened to throw the next man who shoots at you out the window. Megan is awake. She offered to help. God, Trent, what is it with you and women?”

“Money in hand, I glanced up to find Glenn eyeing a rack of stuffed rats. As the salesman rang up my purchase, Glenn leaned close and, still staring at the rats, whispered, “What are those used for?”“I have no idea.” I got my receipt and jammed everything in my bag…Glenn surprised me by opening the car door for me, and as I settled in the seat, he leaned against the frame of the open window. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and strode inside. He was out in a moment with a small white bag. I watched him cross in front of the car—wondering. Timing himself between the traffic, he opened the door and slid in behind the wheel. “Well?” I asked as he set the package between us. “What did you get?” Glenn started the car and pulled out into traffic. “A stuffed rat.”“Oh,” I said, surprised. What the devil was he going to do with it? Even I didn’t know what it was for. I was dying to ask all the way to the FIB building but managed to keep my mouth shut even as we slipped into the cold shade of their underground parking.”

“He looked at me, eyebrows high and the sun glinting on his disguise-black hair. “You do the damnedest things in order to rile yourself up. Most people settle for doing it in an elevator, but not you. No, you have to make sure it’s a vampire you’re playing kissy-face with.” Heat washed through me, pulled by anger and embarrassment. Ivy had said the same thing. “I do not!” “Rache,” he cajoled, sitting up to match my posture. “Look at yourself. You’re an adrenaline junkie. You not only need danger to make good in the bedroom, you need it to get through your normal day.” “Shut up!” I shouted, giving him a backhanded thwack on his shoulder. “I like adventure, that’s all.”

“Rache,” he said, trying to get into my line of sight. “What more do you need? God to send a telegram?" (Jenks)”