If I'm not supposed to be awake, why are you here?" I mumbled. "To be the little spoon.

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.

I wasn't entirely sure, but a polite John Pritkin might be a sign of the apocalypse.

Come and take your seat, Lady Dorina.

Mess with my weed again and I’ll be informing Daddy that there was an early casualty on the mission.” I saw him wince at my designation for Mircea and grinned.

Louis-Cesare’s anger suddenly filled the small room like water, and in a heartbeat his eyes went from silver tinged to as solid as two antique coins. I sat frozen, awash in a sea of power. I was beginning to understand why Mircea had wanted him along, only Daddy had failed to mention anything about the hair-trigger temper. I guess he assumed the red hair would clue me in.

He had the look of an atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.