“Rhys threw his arms around his twin, holding him, hugging him. "He is my mate, brother. I could not kill him. I feel a strong bond with him.""Stronger than ours?" Ceri asked as he embraced Rhys."No." Rhys shook his head. "Not stronger. Equal, but not stronger."Rhys felt Ceri's lips on his cheek. His twin gave him a soft kiss and then turned his head. "Thank You for the beautiful lie," he said right before he bit into Rhys's neck, almost tearing his throat.”

“You should hit him in the face with frying pans more often," Said Rhys "he seems to like it”

“He focused on the inspector, instead, though she didn't want him watching her. But Rhys liked the way she looked, particularly when her expression suggested that she'd prefer to have a gun aimed at his head rather than sit across from him in a private railcar.”

“Forgive me, Old One." Vaughn stifled a yawn. "Is there a point to this bedtime story?"Rhys picked up the fork from Vaughn's plate and drove it into his brother's thigh. "There. I've made four points for him.”

“Suddenly Yankel was overcome with a fear of dying, stronger than he felt when his parents passed of natural causes, stronger than when his only brother was killed in the flour mill or when his children died, stronger even than when he was a child and it first occurred to him that he must try to understand what it could mean not to be alive -- to be not in darkness, not in unfeeling -- to be not being, not to be.”

“Well...unfortunately there's a little problem," he said."What?"He pointed up. "That."I looked up to see the mistletoe dangling from the ceiling where I'd hung it three hours before."Okay, but what does that-?"Rhys kissed me. "I really, really, didn't want to like that," he said."Rhys-" But before I could say anything else, he kissed me again and pulled me closer.”