“Why do you suppose Scarabus had to hide his sister?" I just knew I was going to say something snide. "For snacking later?"There were a couple of gasps, one horrified chuckle, and several snorts.”

“I smelled like a really nice snack.”

“My voice wouldn't work right. I made a tiny nod instead, because - how's this for weird? - I didn't want him to let go of me. He'd pulled back a little, with just his lower half, and I was afraid the scorch in my cheeks would set fire to the rest of me, because I had an idea why. Wow. Oh, wow.”

“And now things were as bad as they could get.I winced inwardly. You're never supposed to even think that. Because it's just an invtation for the world, Real or otherwise, to throw something even more incredibly fucked up at you.”

“And I knew that tone, the pleading, the fear that was sitting like a spiked ball in his chest. He'd been left behind too, maybe more than I had.”

“You can scrub and scrub, but sometimes something doesn't just go away. It . . . it stains you.”

“Come on. Say something, Dru. Don't just sit there and look like I've stabbed you. Christ.”