I learned to play the instruments of war," he said, "and paint in blood.

Demon pox,' said Will with the satisfaction of the truly vindicated.

I kick kittens. I made rude gestures at nuns.

Rule number one of anime," Simon said. He sat propped up against a pile of pillows at the foot of his bed, a bag of potato chips in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He was wearing a black T-shirt that said I BLOGGED YOUR MOM and a pair of jeans that were ripped in one knee. "Never screw with a blind monk.

very funny my sarcastic friend

I hate that stuff. It tastes like feet." At that he smiled. "How would you know what feet taste like?" "I just know.

Is there a particular reason you keep biting vampires?" Will touched the dried blood on his wrists, and smiled. "They don't expect it." "Of course they don't. They know what happens when one of us consumes vampire blood. They probably expect you to have more sense." "That expectation never seems to serve them very well, does it?