Morley put his hand over his heart and bowed from the waist, a gesture that somehow reminded Claire of Myrnin. It reminded her she missed him, too, which was just wrong. She should not be missing Morganville, or anyone in it. Especially not the crazy boss vampire who’d put fang marks in her neck that would never, ever go away. She was doomed to high-necked shirts because of him. But she did miss him.

Michael might have become a vampire, but watching him stand outside in the night air, breathing in his freedom Claire thought that was as human as it could get.

The problem with ruling by fear is that eventually, when the fear fades, fury replaces it.

No way they could threaten him, not even with Amelie; he'd already given Amelie the finger on the way out of Morganville and he clearly wasn’t worried about her coming after him— or, if so, what would happen when she did.

Knowing Myrnin, there could be anything inside, from a body he'd forgotten about to his dirty laundry.

CLAIRE:your washing right? shane:i'll pay you for it. claire:what? shane:best high score wins claire:no bet 'wash, dish boy

I never forget,” Myrnin said in a choked whisper. “Certainly not with your nails in my throat. They’re quite an excellent mnemonic device.