“If they can’t survive alone for four days once a year, they deserve to die. (Acheron)That’s harsh, for you. (Dante)Harsh? Tell you what, you take my phone and skim through the three thousand phone calls I get every day and night and see how harsh I am. I truly hate modern technology and phones in particular. I haven’t had a full four hours of sleep in over fifty years. ‘Ash, I broke a toenail, help me. Ash, my head hurts, what should I do?’ (Acheron)”

“I tried to call your cell phone when we got in to see if you made it."Ash immediately tensed as he put his comic down and pulled out another issue. "I turned it off on the day I got here.""Really?" Dante asked, stunned by Ash's confession. It wasn't like him to be out of touch with his Dark-Hunter charges. "What if one of the Dark-Hunters needed you?"Ash shrugged. "If they can't survive alone for four days once a year, they deserve to die.”

“He’s called you, like, four times in the past week. And seriously, you should be embarrassed. I’ve never met anyone who has as much phone sex as you two.” My eyes narrowed on her. “How do you know about the phone sex?” “Duh. I pick up the phone and listen.” I gaped at her.”

“Getting back to the issue of the child," Tina said, harshing our buzz as visual, "I really think you should reconsider. He—"The phone rang. She picked it up, glanced at the caller ID."We're kind of busy," I said, a little sharply. The phone was a whole thing between Tina and me."But—""If it's important, they'll call back.""But it's your mother."I practically snarled. The phone, the fucking phone! People used it the way they used to use the cat-o'-nine-tails. You had to drop everything and answer the fucking thing. And God help you if you were home and, for whatever reason, didn't answer. "But I called!" Yeah, it was convenient for you so you called. But I'm in the shit because it wasn't convenient for me to drop everything and talk to you, on the spot, for whatever you needed to talk about.”

“Are you asking me if I fuck my food?” The words sound overly harsh in the darkness. “I suppose I am.”

“I've never felt so bereft and panicky. What do I do without my phone? How do I function? My hand keeps automatically reaching for my phone in its usual place in my pocket. Every instinct in me wants to text someone, 'OMG, I've lost my phone!' but how can do that without a bloody phone?”