No one has ever been able to pinpoint the trigger." "But?" "But it is legend that ambrosia only rises when-" She held her breath. "- an archangel loves true.

A long-dead angel who thought to own me,” was his enigmatic answer, the silver in his eyes almost liquid. “I tore out his throat. After that, I ate his liver and his heart. The remaining internal organs weren’t as tasty so I gave them to his other creatures.” Elena’s hand tightened on the handle of the knife, conscious Naasir carried gleaming blades of his own in the sheaths strapped to his arms. “I wouldn’t think a vampire who killed an angel would be permitted to live.” A slow, feral smile. “I didn’t say I killed him.

You try to leave and I will hunt you down." Relief poured through her, but she smacked at his thigh with the back of her brush. "Like a rabid dog? Very romantic.

Say what you would about the dietary requirements, vampirism sure did do great things for the skin and body.

He understands evil better than any other person I’ve ever known. We disagree in how to eliminate it, but we do not disagree that it exists.

When was the last time you lost an argument?" He pretended to think about it. Then, leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "A few hours ago when you refused to stop the car and crawl into the backseat with me.

This was the kind of job that made legends out of hunters. Of course, to be a legend, you generally had to be dead.