I am the shee-it,” the adolescent said in a singsong voice. Then he swung around, smirking at the nearly five-thousand-year-old Egyptian vampire.
“Who’s your daddy, M?”
Far from being offended, Mencheres went over and flawlessly executed a street-style handshake complete with finger slaps, fist bumps, and a high-low finale.
“You are the shit,” he solemnly agreed

You chose to come to Paris, of all places,” Mencheres replied.
So what? Got something against the French?

I love you. You have no idea what you are worth to me.

I missed you every minute this week and I don't want to spend another day without you. If my mom disowns me for being with a vampire, then that's her decision, but I've made mine, and I won't apologize or back down from it.

Even though he was inside the house, I could still hear Vlad’s sardonic mutter of “Where’s a tissue when I need one?”
I turned my face away from Bones after a long moment, ending our kiss, and called out,
“If you’re not too busy watching Hitman, I hear Dracula 2000 is a good movie.”
“Vicious,” came Vlad’s reply, amusement clear in his tone.

You know what your problem is, Justina? You're in desperate need of a good shag. "Not that I'm offering you one myself, mind. My days as a whore ended back in the seventeen hundreds."

The gin was abruptly sucked back into my lungs as I gasped. He did not just tell my mother about his former profession; sweet Jesus, let me have heard incorrectly!

I hadn't, and Bones went right on. "... But I have a friend who owes me a favor and he could be persuaded to... Kitten, are you all right?"

I'd stopped breathing as soon as he casually admitted to his prior occupation. Add that to the liquid stuck in my lungs, and no, I wasn't all right.