Nice plan. Take the gullible outsiders, walk them around for a bit, then feed them to the giant tortoise.
Is that a lion with horns and a pitchfork?" "Yep." "Is he carrying the moon on his pitchfork?" "Nope it's a pie.
Curran looked back at me. "Why is it you always attract creeps?" "You tell me." Ha! Walked right into that one, yes, he did.
If he full-out flexed, I would probably faint, or jump off the building.
I did deranged quite well, when the occasion called for it.
And just when I thought the pain had dulled, my mind would betray me and bring Dad back to life in my dreams. Sometimes I didn't realize that he was dead until I awoke and then it was like a punch in the stomach. And sometimes I knew in my dream that I was dreaming, and I woke up crying.
I'm a substitute mom." "You're more like a crazy aunt who only gets called when somebody needs bailing out of jail.
If I lose control, you'll be the first to know." "I'm quite perturbed by the idea.
I had the metabolism of a hummingbird on crack.
A ghastly attempt at a smile, sure to send any normal person to a therapist.
Perhaps I just wasn't scary enough. Maybe I should invest in some horns or fangs.
Half-man, half-beast, all nightmare. The shapeshifter warrior form.
You don't cause problems. You cause catastrophes.
Big bad merc, down with a basic hip toss. In your place I'd be blushing.
Two years? That's entirely too long. If you want, we can take care of that. After two years it's pure therapy.
The sight of me puffing and straining apparently amused him to no end.
Wanna spot me?" "No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?
The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp's mouth, and pulled them up by their edges. "What are you doing?" Ghastek asked. "My hole puncher broke." "You have no respect for the undead.
On a scale from one to ten, the Pack was eleven and everything else a one.
The Order of Merciful Aid provided merciful aid, usually on the edge of a blade or the burn of a bullet.
On the plus side, if he ever had to fight through a roomful of adolescent girls, he only needed to blink (his velvet brown eyes framed in embarassingly long lashes) a few times, and they would all faint.
What would I do without the moral compass of a teenage werewolf.
We were screwed and he didn't even kiss us first.
If my luck held, it wouldn't be a handsome Greek demigod looking for the love of his life or at least his love of a couple of hours.
Now was not a good time, but we didn't often get to chose the time to repay our debts.
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