Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus." "That airhead?" Favonius snorted. "No, of course not." "He means Eros." Nico's voice turned edgy. "Cupid, in Latin." Favonius smiled. "Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been a long time.
Rick RiordanI don't care what your nose says! The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meatloaf sandwich!" "Meatloaf sandwiches are good! But this is a half-blood scent, I swear. They are on board!" "Bah, your brain isn't on board!
Rick RiordanI thought maybe she'd whisk us off by magic, or at least hail a taxi. Instead, Bast borrowed a silver Lexus convertible. "Oh, yes," she purred. "I like this one! Come along, children." "But this isn't yours," I pointed out. "My dear, I'm a cat. Everything I see is mine." She touched the ignition and the keyhole sparked. The engine began to purr. [No, Sadie. Not like a cat, like an engine.]
Rick Riordan