“Cole made a hissing sound. "Are you inside yet? God bless America and all her sons. What is taking you so long?" The front door was locked. "Here, talk to Grace" "Mommy isn't going to give a different answer than Daddy," Cole said, but I handed her the phone anyway.”

“The front door was locked. "Here, talk to Grace," I said. "Mommy isn't going to give me a different answer than Daddy," Cole said, but I handed her the phone anyway.”

“The guitar," I said, "will only obey its master.""Yeah," Cole agreed, "but Grace isn't here." He grinned at me slyly.”

“Come on," Cole said. He looked back over his shoulder at Mr. Brisbane, who was looking at me with a complicated expression as I left. Cole pointed at him and said, "You're a son of a bitch. He belongs here more than you do.”

“Cole grasped a handful of vials and syringes with one hand and dumped them on the island in front of me. They rolled and whirled in misshapen circles on the counter surface. "Here are our options." My ears rang. "We have more than one?" "Three, precisely," Cole said. He pointed to each in turn. "That one makes you a wolf. That one makes me a wolf. That one gives us both seizures.”

“Cole," I breathed, "what have you done to yourself?"The wolf's head jerked back toward its shoulders, again and again. Cole sang from the speakers, his voice slow and uncertain against a sparse backing of just piano, a different Cole than I'd ever heard:If I am Hannibalwhere are my Alps?”

“Suddenly, Shelby started, at the same time that we heard Cole's voice across the backyard: "Clear off, you psychotic bitch!"She slid off into the darkness as the back door slammed."Thanks, Cole," I said. "That was incredibly subtle.""That," replied Cole, "is one of my finest traits.”