You do realize you just insulted me, right?" "How so?" "You implied that I can't protect her or my people." I looked at him. "That's not at all what I meant." "Apologize and I'll let it go." I kept my hands firmly on the iron rail before me. Grabbing the weight bar and walloping the Beast Lord upside the head wouldn't be the best diplomatic move. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty." There. I was civil. It almost killed me.
The Beast Lord walked out of the warehouse. The screen went dark. My knight in furry armor. Saiman opened his mouth. "This is why I didn't. Personally, I think your smile is inappropriate.
The pervert." "He prefers to think of himself as sexual deviant." "Semantics.
You're screening your calls?" "Why not? It saves me from conversations with idiots." "Is that an insult?" His voice dropped into a deep growl. "You're not an idiot," I told him. "You're just a deadly psychopath with a god complex.(...)
Dali blinked at me. "Would you mind making coffee while you're dancing? I smell it on the bottom shelf, either first or second jar on the left." I opened the first jar and looked inside. Coffee. The label said BORAX. "What's up with the labels?" Dali shrugged. "You're in the house of a cat whose job is to spy. He thinks he's clever. I'd be careful with the silverware drawer. There might be a bomb in it.
The dark scary servant of all evil was on his way to rescue me. Somehow that thought failed to make me warm and fuzzy.
Wiggles hissed as I crossed the floor toward the throne. She fixed me with her empty hateful eyes and smelled the air, her long tongue shivering through the slit of the lipless mouth. Nice to see you too, sweetheart. Remember my cattle prod?
It took a qualified wizard to detect a summoning in progress. It required only a half-literate idiot with a twitch of power and a dim idea of how to use it to attempt one. Before you knew it, a three-headed Slavonic god was wreaking havoc in downtown Atlanta, the skies were raining winged snakes, and SWAT was screaming for more ammo.
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.
You sure you don’t want me to stay? I’ll make you coffee and ask you about your day.
Ready to put your claws where your mouth is, or are you going to cringe behind the big boys and yip all day?" His eyes flared yellow "Is that a challenge?" "Yes it is.
Because he has the best equipment in the City and he knows how to use it!
Curran is the Beast Lord. Tremble.
Just so you know: if a rakshasa shows up, I left my sword in the car.
The human body is an amazing organism. It can go from dead tired to completely alert in a terrified blink.
I chuckled to myself and kept walking. The Universe had proven Curran wrong: a person who aggravated him more than me did, in fact, exist.
And men my prophet wail deride!
You know what I like about you? You have no sense. You sit here in my house, you can barely hold a spoon, and you're telling me 'no'. You'd pull on Death's whiskers if you could reach them.
Derek, you just don't say things like that to a woman. Keep going this way and you'll spend your life alone." "Don't change the subject. Andrea is cool. And she smells nice. It will be okay." Apparently I was supposed to sniff people to determine their competence. "How do you know?" He shrugged. "You just have to trust her.
Technically, the dance worked best when done naked, but I didn't feel like prancing in the nude into Morrigan Hound's arms. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see me.
Morfran thrust his axe straight up. He pretty much seemed to have one sign for everything: poke a hole in the sky.
Curran grinned and my heart made a little jump. I didn’t expect that. “That’s it? That’s your witty comeback?” “Yep.” Eloquence ’R’ Us. When in trouble, keep it monosyllabic—safer that way.
The rabbis paled. I’d managed to terrify holy men. Maybe I could beat up a nun for an encore.
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