How was it that Adrian Ivashkov, who never seemed to take anything seriously was the only one among these "responsible" people who paid attention to such small details? How was he the only one to really understand the magnitude of what I was feeling?

Carter leaned toward me and brushed the hair away from the side of my face. "Don't look down then," he whispered.

You should know better.ʺ ʺIʹve never known better,ʺ he countered. ʺYou should know that.

I didn't just get an idea. I got a great idea.

When she left for a third time and returned with a giant box, I started to get irate. "What is this?" I demanded, taking it from her. It felt like it had bricks in it. "Grandmother needs you to carry some things," Paul told me. "Yes," I said through gritted teeth. "I sort of figured that out fifty pounds ago.

It won't be that simple though, will it?' She sounded wise beyond her years. 'Things are going to get worse before they get better, aren't they?

You're new here, aren't you?" Rolan asked. "Rose is visiting. She's a friend of the family." Viktoria said. "Ah," he said. "Now I remember hearing about you. I had no idea such a fierce Strigoi killer would be so beautiful." "It's part of the job description," I said dryly.