“Where is Sin’s plaid? (Lochlan)Plaid cloth is for people of true Scots blood, Lochlan. They are not for half-blooded Sassenachs. (Aisleen)(He had found Sin later that day, alone in their room. Sin had been sitting in the middle of the floor with his arm cut open while he let blood trail from the wound into a bowl.)What are you doing? (Lochlan)I’m trying to get rid of the English blood in me, but it doesn’t look any different than yours. How can I make it go away when I can’t find the difference? (Sin)”

“She is beautiful, isn’t she? (Lochlan)Like the first day of spring after a long, harsh winter. (Sin)”

“Heard from whom? (Lochlan)From me, you worthless lickspittle. So tell me what miracle dragged the three of you from your holes and got your lazy hides all the way here. And a day early, no less. (Sin)”

“And how did your day go?" I asked Ascanio. He turned to me, a dreamy look on his pretty face. "We killed things. There was blood. Fountains of blood. And then we had barbecue.”

“Mmm. Let me guess. I like to drink the blood of innocents, feast on the entrails of knights and eat the hearts of small children everywhere. (Sin)Aye, that was much the consensus. (Callie)Well, I hope you didn’t go to such trouble to feed me. I fear ’tis off season for good blood, and knights can be rather testy when you disembowel them. (Sin)”

“I have never known anyone with less money and less visible means of getting hold of it. He had slept around everywhere, from the floors of friends’ studios, to the Metro. There were days when he had literally no money at all, and after a string of such days he would go to the blood bank and sell his blood. More often than not he spent this money on tickets to the ballet.”