Biting Bad

I swear to God, it never ends!” Ethan roared. “Not when you’re immortal,” Malik agreed. “That’s actually the point.

Once upon a time, I tried to have dinner with my best friend, and the apocalypse happened.

It was a chef’s knife,” I said, holding my hands about a foot apart. “And a very large one.” “That’s what she said,” Ethan murmured.

Sentinel, you are always the most beautiful woman in the room, irrespective of what you're wearing. And most especially and preferably when you're wearing nothing at all.

I'm rarely good, Merit. But I'm often spectacular.

Ah, vampire humor. Thank God it never got old, said no one ever.

I asked "What do you even do with a chimera?" "What wouldn't you do with a chimera?" Jeff asked. "They're like the Swiss Army knife of animals.

Hey, better than the real thing,” I said. “What do you even do with a chimera?” “What wouldn’t you do with a chimera?” Jeff asked. “They’re like the Swiss Army knife of animals.” “Party in the front, business in the back,” Catcher agreed. That earned a snort and laugh from me. “Any animal that can be compared to a mullet is a good animal in my book.

Whew," she said. "I was afraid you were going to ruin that dress with those shoes. If we´re calling them that. Plastic mud clompers, more like.

How did men manage to offer a compliment that transitioned from sweet to utterly salacious in the span of a few words?

If it was appropriate to judge a person based on her footwear - and it obviously was - I decided I liked her immediately.

It sucks because you’re trying to do the right thing, but the result isn’t showing it. You’re at the stage where good intentions meet crappy abilities. Welcome to my first eleven months as a vampire.” “You’ve only been a vampire for ten months.” “My point exactly.

You were cut?” “Yeah, but I’m okay. Just a little sore.” Devilishness shined in Malik’s eyes. “What was the weapon again? Paring knife? Melon baller?” He squeezed his thumb and forefinger together. “One of those cinnamon-flavored toothpicks?

Because sometimes women cry when there’s good news. Tears of relief. You know, catharsis.” His expression was utterly blank. “Haven’t you ever cried when you, I don’t know, you get a new batch of that fancy stationery you like with the watermarks on it?” He looked bewildered. “That’s what you think I’d cry tears of relief about?” “You do like your office supplies.

It’s your job to be worried,” I said lightly, squeezing his hand. “That’s why we pay you the big bucks. Which you are apparently going to hand over to the NAC in order to keep that car in the garage.” “Never fear, Sentinel. I will still be able to keep you in bacon.” “Damn right,” I said. “You know your priorities.” Ethan rolled his eyes and slapped me on the butt.

I had a sense of your passion when we met, Merit. When you first stormed into my House with fire in your eyes.” “That wasn’t fire. That was sheer, unmitigated fury.

Be grateful for your immorality, but do not deny them the honor of their mortality.

You’ll be careful out there?” Ethan asked. A line of worry appeared between his eyes. “I will. But we’re just going for pizza. And Luc knows where I’ll be, just in case of a zombie apocalypse.

The assholes took their toll.” “Assholes often do.” “That’s a Billboard Top Forty song waiting to happen.” “Sung to the tune of ‘There’ll Be Sad Songs,’” I suggested, then offered up a lyric. “‘There’ll be assholes, to make you cry.’” “‘Assholes often dooo,’” Mallory sang.

You didn’t have to adjust under the watchful eye of Gabriel Keene.” “You’re right. I only had to adjust under the watchful eye of Ethan Sullivan. That was an utter cakewalk.

The supernatural threat is my boot up his ass,” Lindsey muttered.

Ethan groaned. “To business already, Sentinel? So much for, ‘Good morning, Liege. I love you, Liege.’” He managed a remarkably bad imitation of my voice, then feigned sweeping hair over his shoulder. “I don’t do that.” “You do,” he said, grinning. “But my larger point still stands.” I rolled my eyes but sat up, sheet strategically around my breasts, and smiled at him. “Good morning, Liege,” I said in a husky voice. “I love you, Liege.” “That’s more like it,” he said.

I called the Ops Room, hoping to get Luc, and possibly Ethan, on the phone. “Jimmy’s House of Vampires,” Luc answered, in a really poor Bronx accent.

An image of Luc’s face flashed on my screen, his finger waggling. “Time to go outside!” it said. “Time to go outside!” I tried to silence it, reduce the volume, and turn off the phone, but to no avail. Luc had definitely created a reminder for our outdoor guarding duties—and there was no way to turn it off. I grimaced at the phone and showed it to Ethan. “We have a monster on our hands.

But night came again, because night, like death and taxes, was inevitable.

You and Ethan had some kind of something?” “You’re fishing. And we didn’t have something or anything. We’re just bummed it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m spending it with you guys.” “Yeah, well, tone down the magic. You’re giving me split ends.

Ethan scrubbed his hands over his face. “I hate it when you’re right.” I bit back a grin that only would have gotten me into trouble, and let my mouth do it for me. “Then you must hate me often.” I disappeared into the bathroom before Ethan could throttle me.

On occasion, the unexpected is precisely what the doctor ordered.

I’m going to change clothes.” Ethan lay down on the bed, one arm behind his head, ankles crossed. “All right,” he said. “I’m ready.” “Dirty. Old. Man.

The quickest way to exacerbate a dinner with my parents was being late for dinner with my parents. Well, other than bringing zombies to dinner. Because who kept brains in the fridge?