“Although he was an ancient Viking, Viktor wasn’t “old school” as the younger vampires called it. Viktor embraced everything modern, and that included automatic handguns with custom made wooden bullets and quirky sayings like, “That’s right, bitches! Who’s your bad-dy?”

“Niccolo frowned. Why did Viktor, and modern humans for that matter, always speak of beasts of burden? Ass this and ass that. Hungry as a horse…”

“Any day now?” Viktor prodded. “Sì, sì. Do not get your…” Niccolo paused to recall the exact phrase. “Get your balls in a bunch.” Viktor shook his head. “Panties.” Niccolo frowned. “Why would you wear panties? Aren’t those for females?” Viktor growled. “Can we go now?” “Yes, but I insist you tell me more about your man-panties later.”

“Sì, maybe I should consult Viktor. Niccolo pulled his phone from his pocket. His fingers jabbed at the miniature text pad with frustration: H asked me 2 break 1 of my rules, then I should sleep w/ her. Yes? Niccolo hit send. Viktor responded immediately: U mean sexting. right? Niccolo: Sexting? Viktor: Sex+texting. Niccolo: Idiot. real sex. Viktor: Dumbass! Then u lose chance 4 freedom. Niccolo: Have lost it already. I think.Viktor: K, then tell her who U R instead, ass.”

“So. You in?” Niccolo looked from side to side. “In? In what?” “Yes. In. Are you onboard? Ready to throw down. Roll the dice. Ride that crazy cow called life and make her your bitch?” Niccolo frowned. Her colloquialisms were simply offensive. And this coming from a ruthless vampire. “You are asking if I am committed. Sì?” “Siii.” She rolled her eyes.”

“If you love her, set her free. If she comes back, she’s yours. If she doesn’t…Christ! Stubborn woman! Hunt her down, and bring her the hell back; she’s still yours according to vampire law.” - Niccolo DiConti, General of the Vampire Queen’s Army.”

“She spun to face him. “Listen, Hellboy, we need to make this quick. I have garage sales to hit and naughty souls to claim. Decide.” “I do not understand.” Was this goddess tormenting him for sport? Why did she call him “Hellboy?” How very rude! She poked at his bare chest with a razor sharp fingernail. “You hate taking orders.” Sì, true. After all, I am vampire. “And even if you decided to listen like a good little boy, the odds of pulling this off are slim to none.” I happen to excel at all things impossible. I am a vampire! “So don’t come crying if you end up in your queen’s dungeon…” Vampires do not cry, silly woman. “Tortured three times a day for all eternity, which is where you have a ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine percent chance of landing if you don’t do exactly as I say.” Actually, those numbers are quite encouraging. He thought his odds were somewhere between pigs flying and hell freezing over. “Buon. I understand. Tell me what you saw, what I must do.”