“He’s such a workaholic. Never stops to reflect, smell the roses. It’s just kill, kill, protect, protect with that man.”

“Andrus turned the engine and gave her a suspicious look. “You smell like...” He shifted into drive. “What?” “Nothing, but—did something happen inside?” Could he really smell…that? He crinkled his nose. “Your face is red and your scent is…” Oh, God. He can! Kill me now! Giant bomb, falling tree, spontaneous combustion…anything!”

“Am I really going to die?” Cimil’s face lit up with shock. “Jeez. What kind of goddess do you think I am? We just met, and I only kill people I know.”

“What the hell?” Helena objected. “And would someone please flick a Bic or rub two sticks together? I want to die knowing exactly what killed me.”

“There is only one way to be relieved from her service: death. I would like to avoid it.” “I see. You wouldn’t happen to have some wildly irrational reason for doing all this, would you? I love acts of futile insolence. They’re so whimsical!” Trying not to sound like a pansy, he admitted, “I no longer wish to kill for her.” “A vampire who doesn’t want to…kill? You don’t want to—” Cimil broke off, laughing hysterically. “That totally qualifies!”

“I happen to be partial to humans - most, anyway. Clowns, not so much. Those evil bastards never stop smiling.”

“Okay. Good point.” He’s very honest. I should ask how he is in bed. She slapped her hands over her mouth. “I didn’t just say that out loud again, did I?”"Yes, you did.”