I had an accident." "That seemes to happen a lot." "It wasn't my fault." "It never is." "I just have bad luck." "Or you're just trouble." "You got a problem with that?" "No problem at all." "Oh my God! Are you going to help or not?

Somehow, Sydney had an internal clock that told her when time was up. I think it was part of her inherent ability to keep track of a hundred things at once. Not me. In these moments, my thoughts were usually focused on getting her shirt off and whether I’d get past the bra this time. So far, I hadn’t.

What hope is there?" I asked. "If even angels fall, what hope is there for the rest of us?

It was worth it. You looked... happy.

I want you to go back to Tucson and bring me the bottle of tequila I keep in my liquor cabinet. And don't scare Tim." Volusian remained motionless in that way of his. "My mistress grows increasingly creative in her ways to torment me." "I thought you'd appreciate it." "Only in so much as it inspires me to equally creative means to rip you apart when I am able to break free of these bonds and finally destroy you." "You see? There's a silver lining to everything. Now hurry up.

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.

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.