“...Your angry and jealous and in the mood to do some forceful dentistry”
“Vlad twisted his wrist, pinching his fingers together, spinning the bronze coin on the table. When it fell, he picked it up and did it again, counting. Thirty-two times it had fallen Slayer Society up. Twenty-two times it was down.”
“Let’s go eat turkey before I beat the crap put of my cousin.”
The way he said it, Vlad wasn’t sure if Henry wanted to eat instead of beating Joss to a pulp, or if he just didn’t want to do it on an empty stomach.”
“ Henry hooked his legs on the branch and flipped over gingerly, until he was hanging upside-down, grinning at Vlad. Then Henry's grin slipped. He fell to the ground several feet below with a thump, crying out as his body made impact. Vlad shimmied down the tree as fast as he could. "Henry ! Are you okay?" Henry sat up, clutching his wounded knee. He looked very much like he was going to start crying any second. A small, thin line of blood oozed from the scrape on his knee. Vlad's tiny fangs shot from his gums. Henry's eyes went wide, his injury all but forgotten. "What are those?" Vlad's small shoulders sank. He'd let his dad down. "They're my fangs." "Vlad, are you a vampire or something?" Henry's eyes were big, and Vlad was certain he saw fear in them. Not as much fear as when Henry had been falling from the tree, but close. He took a deep breath, glancing at the house. Then he sat down in front of Henry and said, "Yeah, Henry. I'm a vampire. But it's a secret. A very, very, very big secret and you can't tell anyone ever.”
“So what do we do?"
"We do what all families do. Grin, bear it, and pass the mashed potatoes.”
“She's actually a friend of yours... Myosotis Terra. And you wouldn't know, actually. Or to be precise, you wouldn't remember. - Skulduggery (Myosotis Terra)”
“We were not always freaks. Sure, most of us occasionally exhibited freakish behavior. But that’s not the same thing. This is the story of how we became freaks. It’s how a group of Is became a we.”
“I was so getting tired of fighting for my life in the library.”
“Just nipping to the loo,” he explained when she frowned. She nodded as her mind raced to connect the word to meaning. She knew that word. She knew she knew it, and yet, her mind kept hiding it every moment she tried to recall it. Loo, loo, loo. “The bank?” she dared in a tiny voice. He gave another hefty chuckle, having the time of his life with her inexperience. “Spend a penny … water the one eyed dragon?” “The bathroom,” she cried.”
“Physical pain is not the worst thing a human has to deal with,” Altman said. “Believe me, I see it every day. Not death, either. Nor even fear of death.” “What is the worst, then?” “Humiliation. To be deprived of honor and dignity. To be disrobed, to be cast out by the flock. That’s the worst punishment; it’s akin to being buried alive. And the only consolation is that the person will perish fairly quickly.” “Mm.” Harry kept eye contact with Altman. “You don’t have anything in that cupboard to lighten the atmosphere,”
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