“As she turned to concentrate on the portal, Eve tugged on Claire's shirt. "What?""Ask him where he got the boots.""You ask." Personally, Claire wanted the vampire bunny slippers.”

“(eve)"what?"(claire)"monica got him to ask me. Told them to do this." (eve)"bitch! okay,i take it all back. She needs a good blowtorching." "no",Claire said faintly."Nobody deservs that. Nobody." (eve) "Great.Saint Claire,the patron saint of the kick-me sign.”

“You're sure he's not a vampire?' Claire said.'I've seen movies. They're sneaky.' She was kidding. Eve didn't smile.”

“I – talked to her. She understands. She won’t do anything stupid.” He didn’t look at Claire when he said that, and she wondered what kind of talking that might have been.Her mother had always said, when in doubt, ask.“Was it the kind of talk where you gave her something to live for? Like maybe, um, you?”“Did I – what the hell are you talking about?”“I just thought maybe you and her–”“Claire, Jesus!” Michael said. She’d actually made him flinch. Wow. That was new. “You think banging me is going to make her forget about charging out to commit cold-blooded vampire slaying? I don’t know what kind of standards you have on sex, but those are pretty high. Besides, whatever’s between me and Eve – well, it’s between me and Eve.” Until she tells me about it later, Claire thought.”

“Um… Eve…can I ask…?”“About what?” Eve was still frowning at the pasta like she suspected it to do something clever, like try to escape the pot.“You and Michael.”“Oh.” A surge of pink to Eve’s cheeks. Between that and the fact that she was wearing colors outside of the Goth red and black rainbow, she looked young and very cute. “Well. I don’t know if it’s – God, he’s just so–”“Hot?” Claire asked.“Hot,” Eve admitted. “Nuclear hot. Surface of the sun hot. And–”She stopped, the flush in her cheeks getting darker. Claire picked up a wooden spoon and poked the pasta, which was beginning to loosen up. “And?”“And I was planning on putting the moves on him before all this happened. That’s why I had on the garters and stuff. Planning ahead.”“Oh, wow.”“Yeah, embarrassing. Did he peek?”“When you were changing?” Claire asked. “I don’t think so. But I think he wanted to.”“That’s okay then.” Eve blinked down at the pasta, which had formed a thick white foam on top. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”Claire hadn’t ever seen it happen at her parents’ house. But then again, they hadn’t made spaghetti much. “I don’t know.”“Oh, crap!” The white foam kept growing, like in one of those cheesy science fiction movies. The foam that ate the Glass House…it mushroomed up over the top of the pot and down over the sides, and both girls yelped as it hit the burners and began to sizzle and pop. Claire grabbed the pot and moved it. Eve turned down the burner. “Right, pasta makes foam, good to know. Too hot. Way too hot.”“Who? Michael?” Claire asked, and they dissolved in giggles.”

“She keeps asking me where we're going.""Yeah," another voice said. It was Shane, pulling up a chair beside Claire. "Girls do that. They've always got to be taking the relationship somewhere.""That's not true!""It is," he said. "I get it; somebody's got to be looking ahead. But it makes guys think they're-""Closed in," Michael said."Trapped," Shane added. "Idiots," Claire finished.”

“Oliver laughed - actually laughed."I like this new Claire," he said. "You should work her this hard all the time, Myrnin. She's interesting when she's forthright."Claire, possessed by the spirit of Eve, shot him the finger. Which made him laugh again, shake his head, and walk up the steps.”