Shane looked…pale. Pale and shaken and—how predictable was this?—pissed.

I don’t see a way in,” Eve whispered. Why are you whispering?” Myrnin whispered back. “Vampires can hear us, anyway.

But – Michael, you said you didn’t know Oliver, and–” “I didn’t, until he killed me. We were never formally introduced.

He hung up on her. She'd just been hung up on by a disembodied brain in a jar. Fantastic.

Survival," I said softly. "It's selfish, and it's dark, and we've always been a species willing to do anything to satisfy our needs. Individuals have morals. Mobs have appetites.

Seriously,” Shane said, “this kind of is the worst situation we’ve ever been in, right?” “Speak for yourself,” Michael said. “I got myself killed last year. Twice.” “Oh yeah. You’re right—last year really sucked for you.

Claire: Seriously? My mom? Let you in my room? In the middle of the night? Michael: Moms like me.