Drink Deep (Chicagoland Vampires #5)

And so it began, I thought, the first wave of a revolution against oppression, fought with corn syrup and chocolate.

And that’s why we’re sending Boobs McGee.”
I slowly swiveled my head to glare at Catcher. “Seriously. You’re, what, twelve now?”
“Then I guess that settles that,” I agreed. “My boobs and I will go.

Getting sliced up by a Jimmy Choo knockoff hadn’t exactly been my finest moment as Cadogan Sentinel.

Have I ever waxed poetic about the glory that is the fuzzy-chested vampire wearing nothing but cowboy boots?

He grinned. "And you've got yourself a nickname. I'm thinking 'Shorty'"
"I'm five eight without heels."
"It's not a description. It's a nickname. Get used to it, Shorty."
We stood there for a moment, waiting for the tension to evaporate. When it did, we smiled at each other. "Don't call me Shorty," I told him.
"Okay, Shorty."
"Seriously, that's very immature."
"Whatever you say, Shorty. Let's call it a night."
"Fine by me."
I'd worry about the humiliation in the morning.


He was an imperialistic, self-righteous pain in the ass. But he was my pain in the ass, you know? And tonight, I won’t be with him. That definitely feels strange.

I have been given a third chance at life, even if the circumstances are somewhat disconcerting. You are mine, and we both know it.

I'm working from the assumption it's going to go horribly wrong. If we get out of here with limbs intact and no aspen slivers in uncomfortable places, we're calling it a win."


I strongly recommend the therapeutic application of fuzzy-chested vampire to grief. It works miracles.” “I am sincerely glad to hear that. But if you keep talking, I will poke your eyes out with a toothpick.

I tried to help. They were ganging up on one of the girls. I got hit in the head.” “With a stiletto,” Jonah helpfully threw in. “She got hit in the head with a stiletto.

I tried to lighten the mood, and pointed at the house shoes - the last things I'd have expected to see Catcher Bell wearing. "And the shoes?" I asked with a grin.
"My house, my rules. These shoes happen to be comfortable," he said "If you two roamed around the house naked and carrying bows and arrows before I moved in, it's none of my business.

I walked inside and paused for a moment to breathe in the scent of paper and dust—the perfumes of knowledge.

Jonah and Catcher shared one of those manly, “It’s nice to meet you, but I’m going to barely acknowledge your existence with a small nod because that’s the manly thing to do” gestures.

The library was on the second floor of the House, not far from my room. It had two floors—the first held the majority of the books and a balcony wrapped in a wrought-iron railing held another set. It was a cavalcade of tomes, all in immaculate rows, and with study carrels and tables thrown in for good measure. It was my home away from home(away from home.
I walked inside and paused for a moment to breathe in the scent of paper and dust—the perfumes of knowledge. The library was empty of patrons as far as I could tell, but I could hear the rhythmic squeal of a library cart somewhere in the rows. I followed them down until I found the dark-haired vampire shelving books with mechanical precision. I knew him only as “the librarian.” He was a fount of information, and he had a penchant for leaving books outside my door.

People hate us, blah blah blah, wish we’d go straight to hell, or maybe Wisconsin, since it’s closer, blah blah blah.

Screw them,” Ethan finally said. After a moment of utter shock, I enjoyed my second biggest smile all night. Malik’s wasn’t much smaller. “I’m sorry,” I said, “did you just say ‘screw them’?

Take that back to the GP, Mr. Cabot. And should the urge arise, feel free to tell them to fuck off.

There are nights when the world is completely askew because he’s gone.

There was a time,” he finally said, “when I would have acknowledged your reticence and given you time and space to reach your own decision.”
He tipped my head down again and slid his fingers to the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Then he lowered his lips to my ear.
“This is not that time, Merit.”
And then his mouth was on mine, and he took my breath away again. He kissed me like a man possessed, like a man with nothing more on his mind but the taste and feel of me.
Like a man returned to life.

The world has a lot to offer. There’s a lot to explore. I like to take advantage of that.

Was this for real? Were these two magically oriented, problem-fixing, ass-kicking guys talking about what their kids would look like?

Would you put it past Darth Sullivan to figure out a way to haunt you postmortem? He’s probably holding staff meetings in the afterworld. Offering up performance evaluations. Issuing dictates.

You’re thinking about him naked, aren’t you?”


She patted my arm. “And to think—I was actually hesitant about dating him. Oh, and speaking of which. Chaps. Enough said.