Wouldn't have pegged you for a dancer," he spoke to my mind.

"Funny, I would have pegged you for a stalker," I shot back.

Step one: Invade your opponet's mind. This is just like using mind-speak. Try it on me."

"That's easy," I said, casting my mental nets toward Dante, ensnaring his mind, and pushing words into his conscious thought. I'm in your mind, having a look around, and it's awfully empty in here.

Wiseacre, Dante returned.

Nobody says that anymore. Speaking of which, how old are you in Nephilim years? I'd never thought to ask.

I swore fealty during Napoleon's invasion of Italy-my homeland.

And that was in what year...? Help me out. I'm not a history buff.

Dante smiled. 1796.

Wow. You're old.

Dante said, “I tried talking Nora into a ride, but she keeps blowing me off.”

“That’s because she has a hard-A boyfriend. He must have been
homeschooled, because he missed all those valuable lessons we learned in kindergarten, like sharing. He finds out you took Nora for a ride, he’ll wrap this shiny new Porsche around the nearest tree.

As in, I wouldn't know normal if it marched up and poked me in the eye.

Part of me wanted to run away from him screaming, Fire! A more reckless part was tempted to see how close I could get without... combusting.

I needed him like I'd never needed anyone.