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.
Always take the most unexpected route
I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.
I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.
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.
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.
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.
Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?
I did not glow with the thrill of battle. Cringe, yes. Glow, no.
I will destroy you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what it costs me. I won’t sleep, I won’t eat. I won’t do anything but plot your downfall. I will mow down your men like they’re weeds. I’ll kill so many of them so viciously, so brutally, so horribly that no one will dare to work for you. And sooner or later, I’ll get you too.
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.
I wouldn't say hate, exactly. You're kind of like fungus, Gwen. After a while, you just start growing on people.
I'm crazy about you, Spartan.
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.
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.
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.
My name is Gin, and I kill people.
I know that maniacal twinkle in your eye. You're up to something Gwen," he said.
And I was stuck here at Warrior Freaks R Us.
I know that look. What are you up to, Gwen?" "What makes you think I'm up to something?" The Valkyrie snorted. "You're breathing, aren't you?
No matter what happens, I'll always come back to you." "Promise?" I asked in a shaky voice. Logan's eyes burned with icy determination. "Promise.
Since coming to Mythos, I'd almost been run through with a sword and mauled to death by a killer kitty cat. Dirty looks didn't faze me anymore.
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