Richelle Mead

what's your name?"what?" i asked, squinting at the light.your name." I reconized Dr. Olendzki peering over me.you know my name."I want you to tell me."Rose. Rose Hathaway."Do you know your birthday?"Of course I do. Why are you asking me such stupid things? Did you lose my records?"Dr. Olendzki gave an exasperated sigh and walked off, taking the annoying light with her. "I think she's fine,

Call me crazy for asking this, but, um, are Lissa and I going with you?""No""No?""No.

Sweat isn't a bad thing," he said, leaning his head against the wall thoughtfully. "Some of the best things in life happen while your sweating. Yeah, if you get too much of it and it gets old and stale, it turns pretty gross. But on a beautiful women? Intoxicating. If you could smell things like a vampire does, you'd know what I'm talking about. Most people mess it all up and drown themselves in perfume. Perfume can be good...especially if you get one that goes with your chemistry. But you only need a hint. Mix about 20 percent of that with 80 percent of your own perspiration...mmm." He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. "Dead sexy.

Well he didn't treat my mother very well. He did some horrible things.""Like..." I hesitated. "Blood-whore things?""Like beating-her-up kinds of things" he replied flatly."Oh God," I said "That's horrible. And she...she just let it happen?""She did." The corner of his mouth turned into a sly, sad smile. "But I didn't""Tell me, tell me you beat the crap out of him"His smile grew, "I did.

There's nothing worse than waiting and not knowing what'll happen to you. Your own imagination can be crueler than any captor.

By the way, my name's Rose Hathaway. I'm seventeen years old, training to protect and kill vampires, in love with a completely unsuitable guy, and have a best friend whose weird magic could drive her crazy.Hey, no one said high school was easy.

That's pretty hot," he said."Punching me in the eye?""Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports.""I'm sure you are.

What were good and evil, really, but stupid categories? Stupid categoriesthat restricted people and punished or rewarded them based on how they responded to their own natures, natures they really didn't have any way to control.

Wow." I hadn't thought Dimitri could be any cooler, but I was wrong. "You beat up your dad. I mean, that's really horrible...what happened. But, wow. You really are a god."He blinked. "What?""Uh, nothing.

Roza." His voice had that same wonderful lowness, the same accent . . . itwas all just colder. "You forgot my first lesson: Don__ hesitate.

Not into older guys, huh?" asked Adrian once we were alone."You're imagining things," I said. "Clearly, my stunning beauty has clouded your mind.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. I didn't care that we were out in public. I didn't care that he was Moroi. All that mattered was that he was Adrian, my Adrian. My match. My partner in crime.

For every bad thing in life, there are more good things to tip the balance.

I stared. "Canadian Satanists? You're sending me to a group of Canadian Satanists?

I don't think most people take honest well. They prefer the games. They want to believe the pretty lies.

No, I thought. Not just Hell. Really, Heaven was just as guilty. What kind of group could advocate goodness and not allow its members to love?

It made you happy...

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