You should have called us. Desmond would have picked you up.' 'No I wouldn't,' Valkyrie's dad said, stepping into earshot. 'Sorry, Fletcher, but I had important fatherly duties to take care of, which included eating breakfast, showering, and finding my trousers. Of those three, I only managed two. Without looking down, can you guess which one I missed?'... Fletcher smiled back. 'I just want to borrow Stephanie for a moment.' 'Take our daughter,' Valkryie's dad said, waving a hand airily. 'We have another one now.

You're not stealing anything, you're not breaking anything, so I'd guess you're Stephanie.

You make a good point,' Fletcher conceded. 'See, there's a reason why you're the girl and I'm the boy. You think about things while I...' 'Don't?' 'Exactly,' he said happily.

This isn't funny. She was almost killed.' 'I'm aware. You're waiting to see if I will get angry.' 'I already know you're angry. You're sitting very still and you're talking very quietly. You're getting ready to kill someone.' 'I just need a name.

If anyone stops us, as long as we mumble something pretentious about the glory of death, we should be fine.

While my insides may be rotten, I still like a good reason to kill someone. It has to be either business, personal, or out of sheer boredom.

Valkyrie, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your friend is most likely dead.” “Of course he’s dead. He’s a skeleton.