Iโd mentioned this odd wardrobe choice to Adrian a couple of weeks ago: โIsnโt Dimitri hot?โ Adrianโs response hadnโt been entirely unexpected: โWell, yeah, according to most women, at least.
Richelle MeadWell, if the excitement's over, I think I'll take a bath.' 'Wow. The harsh lifestyle of a succubus. I wish I had your job.' 'Hey, our side's always recruiting. You might need to be a little prettier to be an incubus, though. And a little more charming.' 'Untrue. Mortal women go for jerks. I see it all the time.' 'Touchรฉ.
Richelle MeadJohn Cusack is standing over there.โ I followed his incredulous gaze to where a man very like Mr. Cusack did indeed stand, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against a building. I sighed. โThatโs not John Cusack. Thatโs Jerome.โ โSeriously?โ โYup. I told you he looked like John Cusack.โ โKeyword: looked. That guy doesnโt look like him. That guy is him.
Richelle MeadNo," he said, voice thick and husky. His fingers dug into the chair's arms. "You'd better not get too close." I stopped, laughing softly. "You don't strike me as the assaulting type, Mortensen." "Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything.
Richelle MeadLure him out. Send in a 'customer' with a message from me needing to meet him. I'm not the kind of person he can ignore-well, that he used to not-never mind. Once he's out, we can get him to a place we choose." I nodded. "I can do that." "No," said Dimitri. "You can't." "Why not?" I asked, wondering if he thought it was too dangerous for me. "Because they'll know you're a dhampir the instant they see you. They'll probably smell it first. No Strigoi would have a dhampir working for him-only humans." There was an uncomfortable silence in the car. "No!" said Sydney. "I am not doing that!
Richelle Mead