“Tell me something about yourself.” “I’d rather save the small talk.” “There’s no need to be rude, child, and believe me, I’m asking for a reason. Tell me something about yourself. Anything.” “I’m twenty-eight . . .” He rejected that one out of hand. “Something personal. Something . . . interior. Tell me something you love.” I thought about it for a long few seconds, then said, “Ralph Lauren’s summer line this year. Not the spring collection, which was way too pastel, and the winter was really crappy, all bland browns and grays. But he’s got some good fabrics this summer, kind of a hot tangerine matched with dull red. Only he skirts, though. Hiscapri pants are for shit. Pockets? Who wants pockets on capri pants? What woman in her right mind puts extra fabric on her hips?” There was a long and ringing silence. Patrick’s eyes were wide and rather frightened. He finally clearedhis throat and said, “Anything else apart from fashion?” “What do you want me to say? Puppies? Fluffy kittens? Babies?” “Let’s try something simple. Your favorite food.” I rolled my eyes. “Chocolate.” Duh .”

“What's possible?' she asked.'Anything,' he said absently. 'But that’s not what I was talking about. Oh, hello, Claire. You’re in good time. I need an extra pair of hands.''As long as I keep them attached,' she said, which earned her a startled stare.The things you say to me, you’d think I was some sort of monster.”

“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.”

“I like the sound of that, crashing Monica's party," he glanced at Michael, then quickly away. "What about you? That break some kind of vampire rules or something?""Blow me Shane.""Boys," Eve said primly. "Language. Minor at the table.""Well," Shane said, "I wasn't actually planning to do it."Claire rolled her eyes. "Not like it's the first time I've heard it. Or said it.""You shouldnt say it," Michael said, all seriousness. "No, I mean it. Girls should say 'eat me' not 'blow me'. Wouldn't recommend 'bite me' though. Not around here.”

“If you see Myrnin, tell him I said I want my slow cooker back.""Your- You let him borrow something you put food in?"Hannah's smile disappeared. "Why?""Um, never mind. I'll make sure it gets disinfected before you get it back. But don't lend anything to him again unless you can put it in some kind of sterilizer." That made even Hannah look nervous. "Thanks. Tell crazy boy I said hey." "I will" Claire promised. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking - when did he borrow it from you?""He just showed up at my door one night about a week ago, said, 'Hi, nice to meet you. Can I borrow your Crock-Pot?' Which I understand is pretty typical Myrnin.”

“There's something about you, Maddie," he said as he looked into her eyes. "Something more than the way you make love. Something that makes me think about you when I'm pouring drinks or watching Travis strike out in T-Ball.”

“I’m not a kid!” she told Shane hotly. “I’m only, like, a year younger than Eve!”“And girls are much more mature.” Eve nodded wisely. “So you’re about ten years older than Shane, then.”“Seriously,” Claire insisted. “I’m not a kid!”“Whatever you say, kid,” Shane said blandly. “Cheer up. Just means you don’t have to put up with me telling you how much sex I didn’t get.”“I’m telling Michael,” Eve warned.“About how much sex I didn’t get? Go ahead.”