Great rationalizations. All of which her adrenal gland middle-fingered and then carried right on.

The one good thing about the Angels was they always colored within the lines. They had to. Suckers.

So will you meet me?” “Yeah. Sure. Where.” “Montrag’s safe house in Connecticut. If you were the one who killed him, you know the address.

Yeah, but going by that cold tone of voice, she had to wonder whether the best-laid plans of mice and vampires, blah, blah, blah...

Bye-bye, Elan. P.S., Next time you implicate someone falsely, try to pick a pacifist.

Phury knelt beside him and stroked his face. "I've only ever had you to live for. If you die I have nothing. I'm utterly lost. And you are needed here." Zsadist tried to reach out, but couldn't lift his arms as Phury stood up. "God, Z, I keep thinking this tragedy of ours is going to be over. But it just keeps going, doesn't it?" Zsadist blacked out to the sound of his twin's boots heading from the room.

What was said about him, what the females needed to believe about him, was just oral masturbation for mouths that needed to be otherwise occupied.