The throaty V-8 growl that William Clay Ford Jr. claims he likes. That was my last major contribution.

Wish all my corpses would do that.

Xavier leaned forward. "Sarcasm aside, you don't need a guy like that, Elena. Maybe you think you do - only female werewolf and all that - but hell, I've seen what you can do - tied to a chair, up against a male werewolf. You can do that, you don't need some fucking psychopath like Clayton Danvers-"
He stopped, noticing my gaze.
"He's standing right behind me, isn't he?" Xavier muttered.
"Uh-huh."
Xaview tilted his head back, saw Clay, and disappeared. He reappeared on the opposite bench, pressed up against me. I looked over at him, eyebrow raised. He swore under his breath and teleported to the far end of the other bench. Then he stood and turned to Clay.
"You must be-"
"The fucking psychopath," Clay said.
"Er, right, but I meant that in the most respectful way. Believe me, I have the utmost regard for, uh..."
"Raging lunatics," I said.
Xavier shot me a glare.
"Oh sit down," I said. "He didn't bring his chain saw.

At school, our classroom had a small rodent zoo consisting of two rabbits, three hamsters, a litter of baby gerbils and a guinea pig. At first, I’d thought the teacher was raising snack food, which impressed me, being the first sign of intelligence she’d shown. Soon, though, I’d figured out the animals’ true purpose and left them alone, though I would never understand the appeal of petting and coddling perfectly good food.

Bigger room, darling. Like I said, we need a bigger room.

We scarified a mosquito. I bet that's what did it. It was probably a virgin too.