I read some, and then visited with people involved in this curious, exciting and somewhat misunderstood sub-culture. I met with a fang maker, who offered to fit me for an exquisite pair.

The house was on fire," i greeted them tersely. "In case you're interested." they both glanced up overhead as if to make sure the house was still standing. Fang sniffed, smelling the smoke. It's out, right?" he said

Walking over to Iggy, he poked him with his shoe. "Does anysing on you vork properly?" Iggy rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Well, I have a highly developed sense of irony." Ter Borcht tsked. "You are a liability to your group. I assume you alvays hold onto someone's shirt, yes? Following dem closely?" "Only when I'm trying to steal their dessert," Iggy said truthfully.

Every other person in the world would have looked at it and thought, Max would hate this. It was girly. It was beautiful. It wasn't made of titanium and black leather with spikes on it. But it seemed exactly right, in a weird, heart-fluttery kind of way. And I really loved it.

I had to give him props, but how annoying of him to be a hero when I was trying so hard to dislike him. It was downright selfish.

I muttered a swear word to myself. After I heard Angel cussing like a sailor when she stubbed her toe, my new resolution was to watch my language. All I needed was a six-year-old mutant with a potty mouth

Max, you're acting like a child, the Voice said. You're above rebelling against your fate just to rebel. You've got a date with destiny. Don't be late." I brushed some hair out of my eyes. Is that a movie quote? Or is it an actual date? I don't remember destiny asking me. I never even gave destiny my phone number.