“She resolved not to beat herself up because she was attracted to a deadly, vampiric maniac that she yearned to kill.”

“She looked as if she were a vampire about to check the time—with a sundial.”

“Why would I kill to know what she's thinking right now? Probably because I enjoy killing.”

“Ah, but she was a pastel wearer. She was forever dead to Sabine.”

“I’m so sleepy.” “My beautiful girl, dawn nears. And all good vampires are to bed.” She eased up, arching a brow at him. “Then you’ll stay awake.”

“Emma convinced herself she'd lost him because she was fast. She was also adept at convincing herself of things that might not be - good at pretending. She could pretend she took classes at night by choice, and that blushing didn't make her thirsty-- A vicious growl sounded. Her eyes widened, but she didn't turn back, just sprinted across the field. She felt claws sink into her anckle a second before she was dragged to the muddy ground and thrown onto her back. A hand covered her mouth, though she'd been trained not to scream."Never run from one such as me." Her attacker didn't sound human. "You will no' get away. And we like it." His voice was guttural like a beast's, breaking, yet his accent was... Scottish?”

“She laughed, and drank more beer. “Take a long trace off a short bridge, vampire.”