You know, you still owe me pancakes. I think I could go for…apple cinnamon ones now. “ “Apple cinnamon? You sure are demanding.” “It’s all right. I think you’re man enough for it.” “Thetis, if I actually believed you had either apples or cinnamon in your kitchen, I’d make them for you right now.” I didn’t answer. I was pretty sure I had some year-old Apple Jacks, but that was about it.

Guilt was its own prison.

After the bitching I'd done to Abe about going to remote, crappy places, I should have been excited about the prospect of going to Sin City.

Half condemn him and write him off as useless like him dad. The other half just shrug and indulge him and say, ‘Well, that’s Adrian.

I wasn't fooled. He was avoiding looking at me. "There's nothing to talk about." "I knew you'd say that. Actually, it was a toss-up between that and 'I don't know what you're talking about.'" Dimitri sighed.

No, but ..." But I had felt something from another person. Someone who spent time with Alec. The last card in my head flipped over. "I know who it is. It's him. That guy." "Of course," said Carter dryly. "I knew it was that guy. It's always that guy.

I found the candles—atrocious air freshening ones that smelled like fake pine.