“He doesn’t pretend,” the punk pixie said. He nodded toward Doyle. “Nice rings. You got anything else pierced?” “Yes,” Doyle said. The boy smiled, making the rings in the edge of his nose and his bottom lip curl cheerfully with it. “Me too,” he said.”

“Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,” he said, “That from the nunnery, Of they chaste breast and quiet mind.”I looked up at him, and said the next line, “To war and arms I fly.”“True, a new mistress now I chase,” he said.“The first foe in the field,” I said, and let him draw me closer.“And with a stronger faith embrace,” he said.“A sword, a horse, a shield.” And the last word was whispered against his chest, still looking up into those eyes, searching his face.“Yet this inconstancy is such, As thou too shalt adore,” he whispered against my hair.I finished the poem with my face pressed against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, that truly beat with my blood. “I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.”

“He balled his hand into a fist. "You are such a bitch." "Woof, woof," I said.”

“His dark blue shirt was plastered to his chest, covered with werewolf goop and tears. "Now we both need a bath," I said."That can be arranged.""Please, Jean-Claude, no sexual innuendo until after I'm clean.""Of course, MA PETITE. It was crude of me tonight. My apologies."I stared at him. He was being far too nice. Jean-Claude was a lot of things, but nice wasn't one of them."If you're up to something, I don't want to know about it. I can't handle any deep, dark plots tonight, okay?"He smiled and gave a low, sweeping bow, never taking his eyes off me. The way you bow on the judo mat when you're afraid the person may pound you if you look away.I shook my head. He WAS up to something. Nice to know that not everyone had suddenly become something else. One thing I could always depend on what Jean-Claude. Pain in the ass that he was, he always seemed to be there. Dependable in his own twisted way. Jean-Claude dependable? I must have been more tired than I thought.”

“He squeezed my shoulder and smiled at me.I realized that I hadn't kissed him hello, I always kissed him hello. Of course, I was still covered in blood and other bodily fluids, and none of them were his, but he might not understand that that was why I hadn't wanted to get too close. Some of my confusion must have shown on my face, because his smile widened. He turned me around by the shoulders, gave me a little push towards the bathroom, and slapped me on the ass. "Get cleaned up, I'll take care of things here.""I can't believe that you just did that," I said."Did what?" he said, and he was grinning at me.I could probably count on one hand the number of times Micah had grinned at me. His eyes were sparkling with laughter as if it were all he could do not to let it out. I was happy to see him having a good time, really I was. But I wasn't sure what was funny, and I didn't have the courage to ask. It was probably something that would be at my expense, or something I'd just done that he found cute. I was not cute. Confused, fucked-up, bruised, but not cute. Nathaniel and Damian knew better, but as I passed Gregory, I had to say, "If you touch my ass, I will rip you a new one." I said it as I moved past him, not even pausing."You're no fun," he growled.I looked back just before I turned out of sight of him. "Oh, I'm a lot of fun, just not around you."He snarled at me. "Bitch.""Woof, woof," I said, and finally made it into the bathroom.”

“It's that you're not outraged that someone's trying to kill you. Your just accept it, almost like it's normal. It isn't normal""Assassins aren't normal, even for me, Richard" I said. "Just vampires, zombies, and werewolves" he said. I smiled. "Yeah.”

“You are an abomination before God.Jesus loves you too, I said smiling.”