If someone had asked who could stage the best intervention with a crazy woman who had formerly been an undead monster, Sydney Sage would have been my last guess.

He thought there was no hope for him. Me? I can't imagine a world without hope.

I love you, and beneath all that logic, calculation, and superstition, I know you love me too.

I nearly dropped the plate I held. "You've asked me out tons of times." "Not really. I've made inapproprite suggestions and frequently pushed for nudity. But I've never asked you out on a real date. And, if memory serves, you did say you'd give me a fair chance once I let you clean out my trust fund." "I didn't clean it out," I scoffed.

I need it! I need it! It's a royal heirloom!" "Adrian?" "What are you doing here?" "Looking for you. Come on, we need to go. I'll drive you home." "No, I can't. Not until we get it. He stole it!

Why does it have to be so cut-and-dried? In your view, I either have to hate them or be in league with them. There’s a middle ground, you know. I can still be loyal to the Alchemists and on friendly terms with vampires and dhampirs.

Don't fight them anymore.I'm going to go with them." "No. I won't let them take you." "You have to," I begged. He was breathing hard, every part of him braced and ready to attack. We locked gazes, and a thousand messages seemed to flow between us as the old electricity crackled in the air.