My captivity with Dimitri. The way his mouth—so, so warm, despite his cold skin—had kissed mine. The feel of his fangs pressing into my neck and the sweet bliss that followed... He looked exactly the same too, with that chalky white pallor and red-ringed eyes that so conflicted with the soft, chin-length brown hair and otherwise gorgeous lines of his face. He even had a leather duster on.

Dimitri Belikov had arrived.

I’d seen him fight before, but it never got old. He was captivating. He never stopped moving. Every action was graceful and lethal. He was a dancer of death.

What...what are you doing?" "I won't know," he said with a grin. He took a step towards me. "But I'm pretty sure you were doing it too.

Blake smiled radiantly. ʺMay I call you Vasilisa?ʺ ʺYou can call me Lissa.ʺ ʺYou can also,ʺ added Christian, ʺlet go of her hand now.

Your truths are worse than your lies.

If it makes you feel any better, you’re not as bad as Keith. He was here earlier today and was so nervous, he literally kept looking over his shoulder.” Lee paused thoughtfully. “I think it might have been because Adrian kept laughing like a mad scientist at those old black-and-white movies he was watching.