“Gods, I love it when you talk mathy to me.”
“Cadeon, can you hear me?"
He didn't open his eyes. "Nothing wrong with my ears."
"Of course not." She laid the cloth on his forehead. "So . . you and Tera seemed close."
"Been through a lot."
"Was she your girlfriend?"
He gave a laugh that sounded like a grunt. "Not at all."
"And you really didn't sleep with Imatra?"
"Bloody hell, noooo, I didn't . . . She's a slag."
"Then why did you kiss her?" Holly asked.
"Directions. . . and to see."
"To see what?"
"That it wouldn't be all that bad without you."
This was interesting. "Did you make a determination?"
He gave a bitter laugh. "It'll be all that bad."
Oh, Cadeon. "You've known I was your female for a year?" He nodded. "Why I would be chosen for you?"
"Fate decides . . . who I can be most satisfied with."
Nibbling her lip, she asked, "Have you slept with anyone else since you knew it was me?"
"Gave a halfhearted try for a witch . . . she wanted a werewolf instead."
There was no getting around it--Holly was jealous of the witch.
But then Cadeon said, "And I wanted you.”
“You dress her in a wet T-shirt and make her carry the bags? Damn, Cade, I like how you roll" - Rok”
“With a sigh, she asked, “Why do you care if I believe you or not?”
“Because if you think I got a leg over with that slag, then the chance of anything sexual with you will be drastically reduced.”
Without looking up, she said, “Cadeon, a chance can’t be reduced from zero.”
“Gods, I love it when you talk mathy to me.”
“Regin slapped her knees. “Oh, my gods, look at him running like his life depended on catching us.” She slid open the door. “Is this straight outta Platoon, or what? Willem!” she cried, holding out one hand. “Run, Willem!” Then she choked on her laughter.”
“I’ve got a fortune in gold. Ah, was that a flicker in your eye? Do you like me better now that you know I’m rich?” He curled his finger under her chin. “Because I’m all right with that.”
“Thirty nerve-shattering minutes passed before Cadeon returned. “What happened? Tell me!”
“Everything’s taken care of.”
She frowned. “You smell like beer.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, Holly, like me and the cop were downing a beer together.”
Of course, he and the cop had completely been downing a beer together.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re sexy as hell when you’re mathematizing?”
“One last question.”
“Very well, dearling.”
“Can I trust Cadeon?”
Nïx gave her a sunny smile with
blank golden eyes. “As far as you can throw him.”
“Do you honestly want credit because you didn’t do anything to a helpless female?”
“No! Yes. No, damn it—”
“He stole credit for my research. And he was after the code I’m working on now."
Cade went still, fury spiking through him. "Holly, I’m going to give you his throat for this."
"Aw, you say the sweetest things, demon." She stood on tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Deciding he’d kill Tim for her anyway, he relaxed and said, "I know how to play those heartstrings, yeah?"
She unbuckled Cade’s belt. "I called him a fuckwit tosser."
"That’s my girl." He stripped off her top, then his shirt. "Are you coming on to me to get back at him?"
"Probably." Down went his zipper.
"I’m okay with that.”
“Cadeon, are you even listening to me?”
“What? Yeah, was just thinking about…how http always turns to https when I carry out a transaction.”
“Exactly!”
Good save.”
“Trust me.”
This being had saved her life, had even taken bullets for her, and yet there was something so markedly
untrustworthy about him….
He flashed her a rakish grin with barely noticeable fangs. “Though if you’re the praying type, now might be a choice
time.”
“Okay, now you really don’t need to do that blushing virgin bit anymore—I got to ogle your body at my leisure for hours. Matter of fact, I had so long, I could have painted you, instead of just taking pictures with my sat-phone.” He held up his phone with a wink.
“I loathe you,” she said, precariously bending to collect her toiletries and clothes. As she headed for the bathroom, she gave him the evilest eye she could muster….”
“And is it all about the pay?”
“Hence the term mercenary.” He chucked her under the chin. “Try to keep up, halfling.”
“Very well. What do you do as a mercenary?”
“I specialize in usurping thrones. They call me the kingmaker.” Bragging now?”
“Then, with grave formality, he unsheathed his sword.
"How old is that thing? Have you had it carbon dated?"
He looked aghast, as if she’d insulted his grandmother. "Hey, no disrespecting The Sword. Besides, it’s only three or four centuries old."
"Only? I would think that technology has improved since then. Why wouldn’t you get a new one?"
"I’m on my way to, remember? Try to keep up, halfling.”
“We're more cerebral than physical."
"Your cerebrum can't have an orgasm.”
“Is it so bad being directed if you like where you’re headed?”
“To both Holly and Cade, Tera said, “Then we part ways here, hopefully with peace still between us.”
Cade shrugged. “What’s a few arrow wounds among friends, yeah?”
With a wince, she said, “About those arrows, Cade. They were dipped in poison—”
“Poison!” Cade bellowed. “Ah, come on, Tera!”
“I want Holly to experience life. To take away the blinders she has so assiduously relied on. I think you're just the type of person to show her what she doesn't know and doesn't want to know. My niece is innocent in so many ways, and there comes a time in a woman's life when innocence is merely a euphemism for ignorance.”
“What about the old standby of kicking a guy in the groin?"
"Try to."
Love to...”
“Swimbos,” Rök said with an aggrieved shrug. Swimbos—Rök’s play on “She Who Must Be Obeyed”. “Can I help it?”
“Yeah, you can, Rök.” Smoke demons formed temporary pacts every time they had intercourse. Pacts allowed one to summon a demon at will. “Give celibacy a chance.”
“Anything else you’d like me to do? Maybe something possible.”
“This is your aunt, Regin the Radiant. We don’t believe she possesses verbal governors of any kind.”
“Just before his lips reached hers, she jerked her head back to whip it forward into his nose. A Glasgow kiss. Distinct cracking sounded.
With his nose pouring blood, he squeezed her upper arms, "Holly, what the fuck—"
Using all her strength, she hiked her knee up between his legs.
His hands flew to cup his groin as his knees met the ground.
"You're right, Cadeon." She dusted off her hands. "That really was fun.”
“and there comes a time in a woman’s life when innocence is merely a euphemism for ignorance.”
““Easy, female,” Cade soothed as he crept closer to where Holly huddled naked in a corner.
...
When he began unbuttoning his shirt to cover her, she gave a cry, and bloody claws swiped out at him. Then she stared in horror at her fingertips.
...
When he removed his shirt, she bared her small fangs and hissed, then looked aghast at her reaction.
“There, now, a good hiss never hurt anyone.”
“When he’d watched her in the past, he hadn’t understood why she would wear such conservative tops, then such provocative skirts. Yes, they went past her knees, but they also stretched so enticingly over her ass.
He’d finally figured it out. Holly didn’t realize how those expensive materials molded over her generous curves.
Cade knew females liked to ask, “Does my ass look big in this?” But considering Holly as an example, he’d begun to suspect that women really couldn’t determine what their asses looked like.
Oh, well. A question for the ages.”
“Cryptology used to be the realm of linguists. Now it’s dominated by the geeks.” She said this proudly, as if she was one among them. “We’re going to rule the world, you know?”
What Holly didn’t understand was that when she said things like this, she didn’t sound like a geek—she sounded like a Valkyrie.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t been sniffing around you,” [Deshazior] said. “Demons love Valkyrie.”
“Ah, but do Valkyrie love demons?”
“Aye. ’Cause we’re the only ones ye won’t kill in bed-sport.”
“إن الكلمات لا تأتي إلا عندما أعتقد أني لن أتمكَّن من العثور عليها بعد الآن ، في اللحظة التي
أيأس من إيجادها مرة أخرى . إن كل يوم يجلب معه الصراع نفسه ، الخواء نفسه
، الرغبة نفسها في النسيان وفي عدم النسيان . عندما يبدأ الأمر ، فإنه لا يبدأ إلا
هنا ، لا يبدأ إلا عند هذا الخط الذي يبدأ قلم الرصاص برسمه . وتبدأ القصة
وتنتهي ، وتتقدم ومن ثم تضيع ، وبين كل كلمة وأخرى كم من فترة صمت ،
وكلمات تهرب وتتلاشى ، ولا تعود أبدًا .
* بول أوستر - في بلاد الأشياء الأخيرة”
“This was the sort of ebullience and élan I prayed for when I felt the desire to write. I used to sit down and wait for this to happen. But it never did happen- not this way. It happened afterwards, sometimes when I had left the machine and gone for a walk. Yes, suddenly it would come on, like an attack, pell-mell, from every direction, a veritable inundation, an avalanche- and there I was, helpless, miles away from the typewriter, not a piece of paper in my pocket.”
“He had crossed the room with no notion what he might say or do - he had no knowledge of the language of condolence, no skill at social small talk; his metier was business and politics. And yet, when his hostess had introduced them and left, he found himself still holding the hand he had kissed, looking into soft brown eyes that drowned his soul. And without further thought or hesitation had said, 'God help me, I am in love with you.”
“Once a friend, always a friend. Why should borders stop that?”
“One recipe for happiness is to have to sense of entitlement.' To this she added a star and noted at the bottom of the page: 'This is not a lesson I have ever been in a position to learn.”
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