Two students severely injured, you yourself covered in blood, a Reaper on the premises, a Fenrir wolf running around loose somewhere, and extensive property damage to the resort. Well?" Nickamedes snapped. "What do you have to say for yourself, Gwendolyn?" I thought for a second, then grinned at him. "I followed your directions exactly. I never set one foot outside the hotel.
I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.
Always take the most unexpected route
Come on, Gypsy girl. I'm bleeding to death here, in case you haven't noticed. At least make it worth my while and kiss me before I die.
I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.
That’s hard core, Gin,” Finn replied. “Very hard core. Kind of kinky too.” A grim smile tightened my lips. “That’s me. Gin Blanco. Hard core and kinky to the bitter end.
I pulled the trigger twice, cutting off his protests, and Finn joined my lover on the floor.
Just another part of that Spartan killer instinct. I can slay the ladies just as well as I can reapers.
You do realize that the cost of that bracelet is within spitting distance of my going rate as an assassin, right?” “You mean your going rate back when you were actually killing people for money,” Finn said. “Or as I like to call them— the good ole days.
Can you play the piano like Beethoven? Or sing like Carly Simon? Can you take fie pages' worth of quotes and turn them into a usable story ten minutes before deadline? I don't think so, unless you have more hidden talents I don't know about. We all have our special sills. They don't make us better or worse than each other. Just different
Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?
And I was stuck here at Warrior Freaks R Us.
I didn't know if he really meant talk, make out, or something else completely, but I'd be happy with any of them.
What was it with people always trying to kill me in the library? Nickamedes so needed to put up warning signs. Danger: Working here could be hazardous to your health.
And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.
I'm crazy about you, Spartan.
Killing people was far easier than making polite chitchat.
It was better to know what people were really like than put your trust in someone who just wanted to hurt you in the end.
This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me.
I did not glow with the thrill of battle. Cringe, yes. Glow, no.
You're mine," "Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.
Oh, Finn isn’t an assassin,” I cut in. “He’s much, much worse. He’s a banker.
The wolf stared down at me, paws still on my chest, its shaggy tail thumping from side tot side and spraying us both with snow. It seemed like...it expected me to do something. Maybe my mind was completley gone, because there was only one thing I could thing of right now that might satisfy it. I reached up en awkwardly patted the side of its head, since that was al i could reach. "Nice puppy," I whispered, and passed out.
This is an Aston Martin, Gin.You don't run over dead bodies in an Aston Matin." "Tell that to James Bond
Logan Quinn was the kind of guy who could stab me in the eye with a freaking Twizzler.
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