“I didn’t realize,” she said in a voice so polite it drew blood, “that fawning over you was part of the job requirement.”

“I had sex," Drew said with a grin. "Lot's and lots and lots of sex... Hey, no use in good energy going to waste.”

“Contact would hurt, might be fatal, and yet she couldn’t stop herself. Obsession or compulsion, she didn’t know, but she did know that before this was over, she’d either end up in Dmitri’s bed . . . or one of them would bleed darkest red.”

“In my time,” he said, “they believed in witches. Are you a witch, Honor, that you make me say these things to you?” Causing him to rip open wounds that had stayed safely scabbed over for so long that, most of the time, he managed to forget they existed. Her hands, so very, very gentle, continued to hold his face as she tugged him down until their foreheads touched. “I’m no witch, Dmitri. If I was, I’d know how to fix you.”

“Dropping her hand, she turned in his arms. Then, rising up on tiptoe, she cupped his face in her palms and drew him down. Her kiss was innocent, vulnerable, a caress so gentle that it made him her slave between one breath and the next.”

“You can drive.”When he raised an eyebrow, she said, "I've had enough contact with human males to realize you seem to have a congenital inability to function while a female is at the wheel, and I'd rather your full attention be on the case.”

“The bastard kissed her. She was so mad, she bit him hard enough to draw blood. Raphael pulled back, lip already beginning to swell. “We are no longer even, Elena. You’re now in debt.”“You can deduct it from my slow and painful death.”