“Weirdly, an image of Adrian’s Love painting came back to me. I thought of the jagged red streak, slashing through the blackness, ripping itapart. Staring at Jill and her inconsolable pain, I suddenly understood his art a little bit better.”

“Micah showed up shortly thereafter and was happy to meet our other “brother.” He shook Adrian’s hand and smiled. “Now I see some family resemblance. I was starting to wonder if Jill was adopted, but you two kind of look like each other.”“So does our mailman back in North Dakota,” said Adrian.“South,” I corrected. Fortunately, Micah didn’t seem to think there was anything weird about the slip.“Right,” said Adrian. He studied Micah thoughtfully. “There’s something familiar about you. Have we met?”Micah shook his head. “I’ve never been to South Dakota.”I was pretty sure I heard Adrian murmur, “That makes two of us.”

“Keith was just bringing the glass to his lips when Adrian said, "Mmm. O positive, my favorite."Keith sprayed out the wine he'd just drunk and promptly started coughing. I was relieved that none got on me. jill burst into giggles, and Clarence stared at his glass wonderingly."Is it? I thought it was a cabernet sauvignon.""So it is," said Adrian, straight-faced. "My mistake.”

“That was Sydney Sage," said Lissa. "I thought they were all in West Virginia. Why isn't she with Rose?""That," said Abe darkly, "is an excellent question.""Because they were apparently kidnapping Jill Mastrano in Detroit," said Christian. "Which is weird. But not the craziest thing I can think of Rose doing.”

“Kill me, Doug. Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery.”“Christ, Kincaid, what did you say to him?” murmured Doug.“Well,” I told Doug, “I ripped on his fans and on how long it takes for his books to come out.”Doug stared at me, his expectations exceeded.“Then I said—not knowing who he was—that I’d be Seth Mortensen’s love slave in exchange for advanced copies of his books.”

“Lissa's guardians- she had a fleet now- walked with her. I was among them, wearing my finest black and white, including the red collar marking me as a royal guardian.”

“Stick." I said in Russian. I had no clue what the word for stake was. I pointed at the silver ring I wore and made a slashing motion. "Stick. where?" He stared at me in utter confusion and then asked in perfect English, "why are you talking like that?”