Come on outside when youʹre done,ʺ I told her. ʺItʹs like the barbecue of the damned. Except . . . thereʹs no grill.

My name's Jet Steele.

There's nothing worse than waiting and not knowing what'll happen to you. Your own imagination can be crueler than any captor.

Mmm. O positive, my favorite.” “Is it? I thought it was a cabernet sauvignon.” “So it is,” said Adrian, straight-faced. “My mistake.

Your hair," repeated Dimitri. His eyes were wide, almost awestruck. "Your hair is beautiful." I didn't think so, not in its current state. of course, considering we were in a dark alley filled with bodies, the choices were kind of limited. "You see? You're not one of them. Strigoi don't see beauty. Only death. You found something beautiful. One thing that's beautiful." Hesitantly, nervously, he ran his fingers along the strands I'd touched earlier. "But is it enough?" "It is for now." I pressed a kiss to his forehead and helped him stand. "It is for now.

Sydney, this is the kind of shirt that says, ‘You’re never getting in here.

But each time you use spirit, you're more likely to go crazy.” “Already crazy about you, Sage.