Willow huffed. Why was he poking at every nerve she had? "Brat Prince is right," she muttered. And no, she was not going to mention that she'd toyed with the idea of enchanting a broom one Halloween. Not to him.
Willow tugged her laptop of the bag and put it on the table. "If you want to keep it, you ought to play nice," she glowered, starting to tap at the keys to see what information she could find on Lestat. What hadn't been in the books. And what had. She hadn't finished the series, exactly. No point in letting fiction interfere with real research.