He was like Superman, but with fangs and oddly impaired morals.

Damn it," I said. "I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to kill Littleton."

He smiled at me, his teeth very white in the darkness of his face. "Eat him," he said.

Cheeses crusty, got all musty, got damp on the stone of a peach.

For Adam, screwed-up bonding thing or not, I’d wait forever.
“Really?” he asked in a tone I’d never heard from him before. Softer. Vulnerable. Adam didn’t do vulnerable.

“Really what?” I asked.
“Despite the way our bond scares you, despite the way someone in the pack played you, you’d still have me?”
He'd been listening to my thoughts. This time it didn't bother me.

“Adam,” I told him, “I’d walk barefoot over hot coals for you.

Wolves eat coyotes," Gordon said[...] If he weren't an old man, I had some rude things I could have said to that.

"Yes," observed Adam blandly. "I do."

Yep. That was the one that came to mind. And he didn't even blush when he said it. Maybe Gordon would miss the double entendre. But he grinned cheerfully at Adam.

Jesse must have heard me because she stuck her head out of her bedroom and then rushed over. “Can I help?”

I looked down to see what caused the consternation in her face. It wasn’t my nakedness. She’d grown up with werewolves, and shapeshifters can’t afford too much modesty. [...]

No, it wasn’t my nakedness; it was the blood. I was covered with it.

Appalled, I looked behind me at the carpet that was stained with my blood all the way up the stairs. “Darn it,” I said. “That’s going to be expensive to clean.