Parents had some kind of sin radar, Claire thought. They always called when you were in the middle of something you just knew they'd consider wrong. Or at least risky.
You know what we call pedestrians in Morganville? Mobile bloodbanks.
You look like a Goth factory exploded all over you!" he called as she ran down the hall. "Love you, too, jackass!
Claire signed. "Go ahead. And thanks. Oh, and be careful?" "Please. I am the queen of careful. Also, princess of punk fabulousness."
Am I not ninja enough? Are you saying that I lack ninja?
"You ever have that happen where you meet someone and just - clash? We were like a gravel and cream sandwhich." "That is the weirdest thing you have ever said. I suppose you were the cream?" "Of course I was the cream. Sha."
You are so lucky I'm too tired to murder you right now.
I don’t see a way in,” Eve whispered. Why are you whispering?” Myrnin whispered back. “Vampires can hear us, anyway.
I wish the dryer were running, because man, I could use a good...tumble dry."-Eve Rosser
Eve: Shut up, we have zero time for you and your bullshit dramatics Monica: Or what, you'll bleed on me, Emo Princess of Freakdomonia? Claire: Fine. You come with us. If you get in my way, I'll kill you.
If Myrnin pokes his crazy head up before then, call me and try to keep him, you know, stable.' 'Is he UNstable?' 'I don't know, how can I tell? You're the crazy whisperer!' She had a point. Claire couldn't help but smile about that.
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