Of course he wouldn't hesitate before trying something that had never been done before. He was Vlad Tepesh. How could he fail?

I will never stop loving you. No one can change that. No matter what happens later, I’ll still love you.

This was a dream. A very bad, bad dream, brought on by liver poisoning from too many gin and tonics. Here it was, a deal with the devil. At what price my soul? He watched me expectantly and threateningly all at the same time. If I said no, I knew what would happen. Save the glass, waitress, I’m drinking from the bottle! Happy hour, with my neck on tap. If I said yes, I’d be agreeing to a partnership with pure evil.

You’re meant for me, and I will have you.

She's my kitten, and no one else's.

Are you having performance issues?” I asked in surprise. “Bite your tongue,” Vlad said, with a snort. “I was seeing if Dermot understood sign language, but from the look on his face, it seems not.

Can we move this along?" a bored voice stated. "I have places to be and people to shag." "Ian, I'm not going to hug you," I stated as I approached him. "I know you like this better." With that, I slapped him hard enough to rock his head to the side. When he'd straightened, he flashed me a wicked grin. "Finally, you give me what I want. Knew you loved me, Reaper.