“DeChevue entered the room. His long coat, which was draped across his shoulders, flowed behind him like a cape. An absurd effect, Edwin thought. If clothes make the man, Edwin was moved to wonder, then what has this horrible affection made of this individual?”

“Relax, it only hurts a little,” she murmured in Edwin’s ear as she stroked his head and shoulders from behind. “What you feel later more than makes up for it.”“But will I…will I have to drink blood after I am…initiated?”“Don’t worry, Edwin. I promise it will be many years before either you or Ophelia will need to seek your sustenance in such a manner.” Hamlet kissed his cheek. “Are you ready?”Edwin nodded. Closing his eyes, he turned his head slightly to give Hamlet easier access. He felt a momentary pinch and then…Ecstasy! Overwhelming warmth flooded his veins as colors exploded in his mind and a feeling of euphoria lifted him from the bed to the skies. He was flying free from the confines of his body. He soared above the clouds…heading into the stars.“Wonderful, isn’t it?” Ophelia giggled and clapped her hands. “I wish I could experience it more often, but Hamlet says it’s even better once you’re on the receiving end.”He opened his eyes slowly. Still light-headed, Edwin observed the gaze of mutual pleasure in Hamlet’s dark eyes. His sensual lips glistened with tint of red. Instead of horror or aversion, Edwin felt complete peace and contentment.“Thank you.” Without hesitation Edwin pulled Hamlet's lips to his and kissed him.”

“Rolling orange fire silhouetted him from behind, backlighting the warrior’s broad shoulders and casual, long-legged stride. As he strolled away from the inferno, the ends of his loose black coat winged out behind him like a cape befitting the prince of darkness himself. “Holy hell,” Brock murmured. “Tegan.”

“We are now parents. The love for our offspring has opened up fresh fountains of love for each other. Edwin Stanton to his wife.”

“Julian paced restlessly in the hospital room, his overcoat and scarf trailing behind him like a supervillian's cape as he prowled.”

“Yes, but you did it all wrong. Here's the correct way: you make it look like an accident, and then, when I'm dead, you call Edwin up, in his grief, and you're there for him, you offer a consoling shoulder to cry on, you get back into his life, and you make him depend on you. You don't murder her and let the boy you like know you did it. Seriously, this is like Psychopath 101, Gretchen. You are so outclassed.”