I have to fix this,” I told him, as clearly and calmly as I could. “If you want to help me, then help me. Don’t shield me, don’t protect me, don’t bury me alive. Help me .

Nobody said anything that time. Or maybe I just wasn’t listening. After all, someone had to keep an eye on the fridge.

You know, I was gutting this loser the other day, and I thought, It’d be more fun fighting that little dhampir. I wonder if she’s recovered yet. And here you are.” “Lucky me,” I said. Scarface grinned. “You know, I might even let you live. You’re funny.

The most temptation I'd experienced had been with Tomas, the Senate's spy who had been feeding off me without permission, and Mircea, who was probably plotting some nefarious scheme. I have no taste in men.

Not really hungry." "She’ll eat." Pritkin said curtly. "I said —" "If you starve to death it would damage my professional reputation." "I eat plenty." "The same does not apply should I strangle you in understandable irritation, however." "I’ll have a sandwich," I told Nick. "No meat.

I thought there was a good chance the fridge was possessed. It was subtle about it, but I had its number. I knew its ways. Oh yes.

What is your problem?” I asked, scooping the freezing mess out of my cleavage. “We got unfinished business,” he reminded me. “My name’s not Bill.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I loved that movie. Shoulda brought a katana, but it seemed like an unfair advantage.