I said earlier that dead things don't always stay dead. Well, I'm one of them. don't worry - I'm not like the Strigoi. But I did die once (I don't recommend it).

Adrian was easily distractible by wacky topics and shiny objects.

I’m still here, still in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy ever will." -Adrian-

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Are you lost, little girl? The elementary school's over on west campus." A pink flush spread over her cheeks. "Don't you ever touch me again. You screw with me, I'll screw you right back." Oh man, what an opening that was.

I’m not a warrior or a goddess,” I said at last. Adrian leaned closer. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re both.

I always love seeing what worries you. Strigoi? No. Questionable food? Yes.

He used to talk to me about Russia all the time and had sworn up and down that I'd love it here. "To you, it'd be like a fairy tale," he'd told me. "Sorry, comrade. Borg and out-of-date music aren't part of any happy ending I've ever imagined." "Borscht, not borg. And I've seen your appetite. If you were hungry enough, you'd eat it." "So starvation's necessary for this fairy tale to work out?