Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I was going to squirt tears. How unprofessional.

It was clear they weren’t getting any information out of Ian tonight. She, Bones, and Cat followed as Spade supported Ian, almost carrying him up the stairs to then dump him on the bed in a guest room. “Before you go, mate, turn on the telly. Something raunchy, too. Think I’ll rub one off before I sleep.

Age had taught him patience. Youth had taught me to get frustrated at the lack of progress.

It hasn't escaped my notice that you only compliment me when you're intoxicated.

The clock struck eleven and cat the vampire huntress was on the loose, except my battle armor was a push-up bra, curled hair, and a short dress. Yeah, it was a dirty job, but I was going to do it. Come one, come all, bloodsuckers! Bar’s open!

I'd address his way of trying to discourage Ian later. After all, he could have come up with something other than saying I was a whiny, smelly, trumpet-snoring bad lay.

Trying to wake you,” Bones answered crisply. “I cut you, threw water on you, slapped you, and set a lighter to your legs. For future reference, which one of those do you think worked?” “Good God,” I hissed. “No wonder I thought you were Death incarnate in my dream, and that made me run toward Gregor at first!