If you're Strigoi," the boy interrupted loudly, "then why don't you have horns? My friend Jeffrey said Strigoi have horns." Dimitri's eyes fell not on the boy but on me for a moment. Again, that spark of knowing shot between us. Then, face smooth and serious, Dimitri turned to the boy and answered, "Strigoi don't have horns. And even if they did, it wouldn't matter because I'm not a Strigoi.

A gun I had been brought down by a gun. It was practically comical. Cheaters, I thought. I’d spent my life focusing on hand to hand combat, learning to dodge fangs and powerful hands that could snap my neck. A gun? It was so… well, easy. Should I be insulted? I didn’t know. Did it matter? I didn’t know that either. All I knew in that moment was that I was going to die, regardless.

What’s going on?” he demanded. “The usual, old man,” I replied cheerily. “Danger, insane plans... you know, the stuff that runs in our family.

She might be unarmed, but Rose Hathaway was in possession of many weapons.

He was almost naked too, but I hadn't quite gotten to his boxers yet. (They were silk because, honestly what else would Adrian wear?)

Couldn't Lissa have healed that black eye away?" "Its a badge of honor. Makes me seem manly.

So,” I said at last, staring at my hands. “How’s, uh, your car?” “I left it out on the street. Figured it’ll be fine there while I’m gone.