“Well, friend, I don’t know about your tastes, but I tend to like it very bloody,” Myrnin said. He shifted position, dragging Claire along like a rag doll without any effort at all. “Have we been introduced?”“Probably not. Why, are you asking me out, sweetheart?”“You’re not my type, darling. Is this one yours?”“No,” Frank said, and looked at Shane, just in a quick flicker. “Let’s say she’s a friend of the family.”

“Myrnin: Have we been introduced?Frank: Probably not. Why, you asking me out, sweetheart?Myrnin: You’re not my type, darling.”

“How is he?""Who?""Your father."Of all the things Claire had expected, that wasn't it, and it took her a minute of honest puzzlement to try to work out why someone like Frank Collins would even care. She finally said,"He's doing okay. I talked to my mom yesterday; the doctors think they can fix his heart problem. He's feeling a lot better."Frank nodded. "Good. Family's important," he said. "Maybe too important, sometimes. Iknow how much I screwed it up with Shane. Can't blame the kid for hating me now." It was almost a . . . question? And if it was a question, what could Claire say?Yeah, he hates your guts. That probably wasn't what Frank was hoping to hear."Just take care of him," she said. "That's what you're supposed to do. Stop using him, and start protecting him. I know he thinks he doesn't need it, but sometimes he does. Sometimes we all do."Now Frank did look up, and Claire felt a blush building in her face as he stared at her like he was actually seeing her for a change. "He did okay," Shane's dad finally said. "Picking you.”

“I heard this girl worked for Bishop,' said one of the guys, who had a tire iron resting on his shoulder. 'Carrying around his death warrants. Like one of those Nazi collaborators.' 'You heard wrong,' Shane said. 'She’s my girl. Now back off.' 'Let’s hear from her,' said the leader of the pack, and locked stares with Claire. 'So? You working for the vamps?'Shane sent her a quick, warning glance. Claire took in a deep breath and said, 'Absolutely.''Ah hell,' Shane breathed. 'Okay, then. Run.”

“And then it was between Shane and Claire on who retreated first. "Uou go," he said."Why?"Shane and Pete exchangedblooks. "Seriously?" Pete asked."Yeah, she's like that," Shane said, and turned to her. "Because you're my girlfriend, and I'm not going unti; I know you're safe. How's that?”

“Kid,” Richard said wearily, “I am not in the mood. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours, my sister’s crazy–”“Hey!” Monica protested.“–and you’re not my high school crush–”“He is not my high school crush, Richard!”“The point it, I couldn’t give a crap about you, your friends, or your problems, because for me this isn’t personal. Monica will kill you because she’s nuts. I’ll kill you because you make me kill you. Are we straight?”“Well,” Shane said, “That’s kind of a personal question.”

“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.”