“Forbidden fruit is the sweetest, Warren, my darling.”

“Warren made a noise, the first one I'd heard out of him since we'd come into the room. I'd have been happier if he hadn't sounded scared."Easy, Warren," Adam told him. "You're safe here.”"If you die on us, you won't be," said Kyle with a growl that would have done credit to any of the werewolves in the room.”

“A second floor window opened, and Kyle stuck his head and shoulders out so he could look down at us. “If you two are finished playing Cowboy and Indian out there, some of us would like to get their beauty sleep.”I looked at Warren. “You heard ‘um Kemo Sabe. Me go to my little wigwam and get ‘um shut-eye.”“How come you always get to play the Indian?” whined Warren, deadpan.“Cause she’s the Indian, white boy,” said Kyle.”

“Don’t lick the guests, darling. Bad manners.”

“I think that I can count on the fingers of one hand the times you've actually said the word ‘women' and not replaced it with an epithet referring to female genitalia." "Hey, he's not that bad," Warren said. "Sometimes he calls them cows or whores.”

“A cowboy, a lawyer, and a mechanic watched Queen of the Damned,” I murmured. Warren—who had once, a long time ago, been a cowboy—snickered and wiggled his bare feet. “It could be the beginning of either a bad joke or a horror story.” “No,” said Kyle, the lawyer, whose head was propped up on my thigh. “If you want a horror story, you have to start out with a werewolf, his gorgeous lover, and a walker.”

“Hey, Adam,” I said.I thought you’d want to know that Warren and Darryl made it out of the vampire den alive.”I sucked in my breath. “You didn’t actually agree to their meeting on Marsilia’s grounds?”He laughed. “No, it just sounded better than saying they made it out of Denny’s alive. It might not be romantic, but it’s open all night and set in the middle of a brightly lit parking lot with no dark places for skulking parties to ambush from.”