Christian's family lived under the shadow cast by his parents. They had purposely become Striogi, trading thier magic and mortality to become immortal and subsist on killing others. His parents were dead now, but that didn't stop people from not trusting him. They seemed to think he'd go Strigoi at any moment and take everyone else with him. His abrasiveness and dark sence of humor didn't really help things, either.

Besides, when not hard at work with this research, I'm actually conducting a side experiment on how cigarettes and gin increase charisma. As you might guess, the results are looking very promising.

I'm just confused. I can't read your signals. One moment you're hot, the next you're cold. You tell me you want me, you tell me you don't. If you picked one, that'd be fine, but you keep making me think one thing and then you end up going in a completely different direction. Not just now—all the time.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking from face to face. "I was having a good dream." "I need you," said Lisa. "I hear that from women a lot."

Adrian's face was the picture of perfect politeness and restraint, meaning something disastrous was about to happen.

How do you know it was the blighted pile? Did you recognize Maiwenn’s gift?” “No, but there was a marble bust of Dorian in there, which I figured must have been his kingdom’s ‘humble’ gift.

Frustration filled his features. "Rose I've done a lot of bad things, most of which I can never fix or find redemption for. My only choice now, if I want to reclaim my life, is to go forward, stopping evil and doing what's right. And what is NOT right is taking a woman from another man, a man I like and respect. I'll steal cars. I'll break into houses. But there are lines I WILL not cross, no matter what I—