“If you’d rather I didn’t stay—” I began.
“I invited you.”
“After sustaining a head injury. Which means you aren’t responsible for anything you said last night . . . except for the part where you forgave me for wrecking your car.”
“You were run off the road.”
“I still feel bad. It was a nice car.” I paused. “I’m also sorry about almost getting you killed.”
“She says, as an afterthought.”
“It was a really nice car.”
“You will leave her alone,” Gabriel said. “One way or another.”
“That sounds like a death threat, Walsh.”
“Then you lack imagination.”
“Demons are a very human creation. You look for ways to explain evil, and instead of seeing it in yourselves, you offload the responsibility onto monsters. The monstrous exists in the mirror, not in the sulfurous depths of some fantasy world.”
“I find fairies with cell phones disconcerting enough. Do they really need to use text talk?”
“Cwn Annwn,” I said. “I think I’m finally pronouncing that right. Welsh. So many letters. So few vowels.”
“She told you something?"
"Yes. You're evil."
His brows shot up. "That's news?”
“Don't apologize."
"I wasn't-"
"Not in words, but it was clear from your tone. Apology suggests that you are keeping me from doing what I need to do, which implies I am somehow powerless to do otherwise. It's a choice, Olivia.”
“There is no escape from the prison of the mind.”
“I want limits, damn it. I’ll accept omens and portents and second sight. I’ll accept giant black hounds and creepy ravens and magpies. I’m still working out the fae and Wild Hunt thing. But I draw the line at people disappearing into thin air.”
“I believe you are conflating your fantasy worlds.” “You”
“The death of Willie James Howard was effectively shelved in 1945. Beyond the Justice Department, Moore and Marshall had nowhere to go. The process of the case, frustrating in the extreme from its deplorable beginning to its unjust end, was a repulsive reminder to Moore and Marshall of the ruthless measures men took to protect the flower that was “Southern white womanhood.”
“I incline to Cain's heresy," he used to say quaintly: "I let my brother go to the devil in his own way.”
“Is it really a choice when we have no other option?”
“I AM GOING TO BITE THAT DRAGON’S HEAD OFF AND STUFF HIM IN A VOLCANO,” Glory roared. “Too late,” Tsunami said. “Since that’s kind of already happened. The volcano part, I mean. He’s a pile of ashes now.”
“Nah. You’d survive at least the first act of any movie. The pretty brunettes rarely get bumped off first.’
‘Aw. You think I’m purr-ty,’ she says in a singsong voice.
‘Well, you know, objectively …’ I clear my throat.
Camilla kicks some sand over my towel. ‘I shall take that as a compliment,’ she says, giggling.”
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