What Bob had heard from the grapevine was that MCR's rhythm guitarist was small, hyper, and insane on the guitar. What the grapevine had obviously failed to mention was that Frank Iero was also a fucking vampire. Because normal people didn't actually believe things like vampires or werewolves or faeries or witches existed. Normal people were, in Bob's humble opinion, complete fucking idiots.

Ariadne survived Nikolaos by keeping her head down and playing as harmless as a young master vampire can; Jean-Claude's rule is better, but she still dreams of freedom. When bounty hunters Dominic Cobb and Arthur come to St. Louis seeking revenge for the death of Dom's wife, they set off a storm of events that may grant Ariadne's wish in a most unexpected way. Arthur/Ariadne/Eames, past Dom/Mal.

He felt like the naked girl who'd just been a white wolf and the half-naked guy who'd just been a mangled corpse dragged into his barn by a wolf completely deserved his screaming. The ~magical~ turd-licking fence-fuckers masquerading as his classmates had been sneak-flirting with him for weeks. "Is my life actually a shitty supernatural romance?! Am I going to develop more special than you powers that somehow never matter half as much as who I fuck? Am I supposed to arbitrate your little game of which one of you is the sexiest alpha male by gracing them with my boy cooch?" -- now with sequel pesterlog silliness.