That's it? That's your big goodbye?" Eve asked. Claire looked at Eve mystified. "I think I need guy CliffNotes." "Guys aren't deep enough to need CliffNotes." "What were you waiting for, flowery poetry?" Shane snorted. "I hugged. I'm done.

His gaze brushed over her, abstract and hungry. "You burn so very brightly, you know" "Yeah," she muttered. "You said.

Me neither,” Shane put in. “Homie don’t play that.” “I wonder, sometimes, if your generation speaks English at all,” Amelie said.

Why did you destroy Manny's office, then?" "I--can't breathe--" "That is the point of choking you," I pointed out. "Haste, please, if you want to live." -Cassiel

Shane looked faintly injured. “I make it my business to know everything about silver. And I saw your notes. I study up on everything when it comes to your boss, anyway.” There was a flicker of jealousy about that, but she didn’t have time, or energy, to consider it very much. Not even whether or not she liked it.

Bite me, Goth princess,” Shane called from the back. “Not literally or anything.” “Maybe you should say that to Michael.” “Not funny, Eve,” Michael said. Eve raised her eyebrows and held her fingers up, measuring off about an inch. “Little bit,” she said.

Oliver . . . well. Who knew if Oliver’s problem was the disease or just a bad attitude?