“Are you always so mistrusting?” he said, lifting a brow.“When my escort is a demon, yes.”

“You have demons?""Yes."That answer didn't surprise me, although how these demons connected with the movie was anybody's guess."Volkswagen demons," he said."You have Volkswagen demons?""Yes. There. I said it. Happy now?”

“How did you know to turn back?" I said.With his head still down, he said, "I waited for you.""But its a race. Why did you wait for me?"He lifted his head so that his eyes met mine. "I always wait for you." He took a deep breath, my ankle still in his hands. "I'm always waiting for you."In an embarrassingly breathless voice that didn't sound like my own, I said, "Because I'm so slow?"He smiled. "Yes. But not in the way that you think.”

“Will you let me lift you?" he said. "Just let me lift you. Just let me see how light you are." "All right," she said. "Do you want me to take off my coat?""Yes, yes, yes," he said. "Take off your coat."She stood. She let her coat fall to the sofa."Can I do it now?" he said."Yes."He put his hands under her arms. He raised her off the floor and then put her down gently. "Oh you're so light!" he shouted. "Your'e so light, you're so fragile, you don't weigh any more than a suitcase. Why, I could carry you, I could carry you anywhere, I could carry you from one end of New York to the other." He got his hat and coat and ran out of the house.”

“So, what were you about to do that day, then? Float away or something?”“No.” He looked up from the ground and smiled. “I was about to lift you in my arms and run, vampire speed, to the closet room under the auditorium stage.”“You would not,” I said, my tone ringing in question.“Ara—” he raised one brow, “I'm a guy. Not a saint.”

“When at last he could lift his head, he asked, “What have you done?”“What have I done?” She lifted a mocking brow. “Why, I’ve kidnapped the marquees of Northcliff.”“You dare to admit it?” Inch by painful inch, he dragged himself onto the cot.“Admitting to it is the least of my sins. I did it.”