Claire was struggling through last summer’s diary volume when Myrnin popped in through the portal, wearing a big floppy black hat and a kind of crazy/stylish pimp coat that covered him from neck to ankles, black leather gloves, and a black and silver walking stick with a dragon’s head on it. And, on his lapel was a button that said, If you can read this, thank a teacher.

Who's Myrnin?" Claire controlled an urge to roll her eyes. "Badass crazy vampire scientist who's my boss." "You realize no part of that sentence made sense, right?

Is it arrogance if one is truly superior?

Michael!” Oliver’s voice came faint through the front door. “Something you should see, my boy! Look out your windows!” “Trap,” Shane said instantly, and reached out to grab Michael’s arm as he walked by. “Don’t, man.” “What’s he going to do? Make faces at me?

You want to go play with your new friends back there? The really pale ones with the taste for plasma? --Shane

Excuse me? You're a lady?" "I bought a title on the Internet. I own one square inch of Scotland. And you're changing the subject.

I’m sorry, Eve. I love you. I’m not letting you do this.” She screamed and battered harder. “You love me? You asshole! Let me go!