He’s a war mage. They’re almost impossible to kill.” He scowled. “Even on purpose.

Then you must be willing to fight," Mircea responded. "Life is not a gift, Raphael; it's a challenge. Rise to it!

Pritkin and Mircea mixed like oil and water, only not so well.

They’ll have to eat first. And by the time they’re finished, you’ll be back.” “With the condoms.” “Right.” “For the giant orgy you’re convinced we’re about to have in the backyard.” “Dory! Just go!” “I’ll go with,” Ray said, getting up. “I need a snack.” Which was how I ended up condom shopping with a vampire.

I barely heard him, I was too busy watching Pritkin, who had slumped over with his head on the sofa arm, shoulders shaking helplessly, and what looked suspiciously like tears leaking out from under his closed eyes. "Not that bad," he muttered, and then he was off again.

I left it with a warmer,” he said drily. Because war mages ate their fried chicken frozen to the ground and they liked it.

I hadn't realized how much I'd relied on his scowls or his shrugs or his grudging looks of approval to help me figure something out-until they weren't there anymore. Or how I could talk to some people about a lot of things but only to him about everything. And how unbelievably valuable that was.