I could hear him laughing. Son of a bit*h. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was coyote or the son of Satan.He was a dead man walking.

A man learns with age, if he is lucky.

Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.

When I die of heart failure the next time you frighten me like that, you can put that on my gravestone —‘I didn’t mean to startle her

Reincarnation?” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen any evidence that it’s real. But I’ve never seen anything that disproves it either. I believe the afterlife is better than what we have here—and it would take something extraordinary to make someone willing to come back.

Vampire politics make the very complicated dance of manners that is werewolf protocol look like the Hokey Pokey.

Ben rubbed his muzzle over Kyle’s shoulder in a way that I think was supposed to be reassuring. Kyle sucked in a breath. Either it hurt, or the reminder that the werewolf was big enough to rub his shoulder without much effort wasn’t exactly reassuring. “Ben, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?” asked Kyle. Or else Ben’s breath was really bad.