“Bluebell, you couldn’t take me if I was blindfolded and had both hands tied behind my back.”
“Bluebell?” Illium narrowed his eyes. “That’s it, Barbarian.”
“She stepped out of reach. “Go put on a shirt and get your mind out of bed.”
“Impossible with you around.”
“Pretend I’m holding a rifle. In fact, pretend I have you in the crosshairs.”
Janvier sighed, rubbing at a jaw shadowed by morning stubble. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
“I shouldn’t ask you to,” he said, devotion in every word, “but I’m going to. Wait for me, Jess. I’ll come back to you.” Naked emotion turned the sea green into hidden emeralds.
Pressing her fingers to his lips, she shook her head. “You never have to ask, Galen. Forever, that’s how long I’d wait for you.”
“The fear is like metal on my tongue—I’ve known him but a fragment of time, and yet I’m certain if I accept his suit, it will destroy a part of me when he leaves.”
Keir reached forward to tuck her hair behind her ear.
“We’re all a little broken.” Quiet. Potent. “No one goes through life with a whole heart.”
“Most of those men don’t want to sleep with you,” he said in blunt rebuttal. “I reserve the right to introduce my fist to the faces of the ones who do.”
“After this is over, I want a shower in a really big bathroom."
"I'll get us the penthouse."
"What makes you think you'll be sharing it with me?"
"I live in hope.”
“I won't take advantage of you. Today, I'll be your friend."
"Fen has been my friend for decades," she said, sliding her arm into his when he offered it to her. "And he never presumed to put his mouth on mine."
"Obviously I'll be a different kind of friend.”
“Illium sonrió, desvengonzado.
-¿Queréis intentarlo de nuevo? Me moveré más despacio (ambos sois mucho más viejos, después de todo) -Las últimas palabras fueron un susurro conspirador.
Galen miró a Rafael.
-¿Cómo ha sobrevivido todo este tiempo?
-Nadie puede atraparlo.”
“I don't know why I'm always surprised when vampires act as weird as ordinary humans. It's not like they gain the wisdom of the ages with the transformation.”
“Taking out her gun, she turned to Monique. “You have any offensive capabilities? Know how to fire a weapon?” “My face and my body are my weapons, Guild Hunter.” A hint of that upper-class sneer entered her tone. “Sex is about as physical as I get.” “Bully for you.” She slammed a fist on the garage door. “Hurry, Janvier!”
“Illium grinned, unrepentant. “Want to try again? I’ll move extra slow—you are both so much older, after all.” The last words were a conspiratorial whisper. Galen glanced at Raphael. “How has he survived this long?” “No one can catch him.”
“Galen figyelte mindezt, de nem avatkozott közbe… és rendszeresen a földbe döngölte Dmitrit.
A vámpír a legutolsó forduló után letörölte felrepedt ajkáról a vért, és fejcsóválva megjegyezte:
– Mazochistának kell lennem, hogy mindig újra elveretem magam veled.
– Nem. Csak eltökélten javítani akarod a képességeidet.”
“The woman he took as his own would never, ever have to fear betrayal.”
“– Galen, én kedvellek, de Jessamyt szeretem. Ha megbántod, én kibelezlek.”
“I know when to retreat, when to lull my opponent into a false sense of security… and when to launch a final, victorious strike.”
“Blood of my blood they might not be, but heart of my heart they will be.”
“We’re all a little broken.” Quiet. Potent. “No one goes through life with a whole heart.” His”
“I would fly our child wherever she needed to go.”
“He’d asked Simon about that. Why would the archangels potentially sabotage an organization that made their lives a hell of a lot easier? “It’s a game,” Simon had said. “They need us, but they’ll never allow us to forget that they’re the more powerful. Attacking me, attacking Sara, isn’t about stopping the Guild—it’s about reminding us the Cadre is watching.”
“Who knows himself a braggart, let him fear this, for it will come to pass that every braggart shall be found an ass.”
“I want to be able to run about like the goats do.”
“I must—I must—I must increase my bust.”
“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”
“I cannot live without brainwork. What else is there to live for? Stand at the window here. Was ever such a dreary, dismal, unprofitable world? See how the yellow fog swirls down the street and drifts across the duncoloured houses. What could be more hopelessly prosaic and material?”
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