“It wasn't the tequila and oxy. You really are that fucking gorgeous.”
“I know what love feels like, but this, this man... fuck me. Steals my breath. Knots me up. Torches me."
"No, this is what denying love feels like, man. Why you denying your heart?”
“Who hears the wishes and goodbyes? The speaker does.... And you hope that what you say from the heart has power. Power to protect, power to reach the ears of the dead. A spoken thing or a whished-hard thing takes a shape within the heart, man. Takes shape. Becomes real.”
“Watch over her ma mère. S’il te plaît keep her safe. Even from me.”
“Lucien bent and searched through the scraps of paper at Loki’s stone feet for the blood-kissed prayer Dante had placed among them. Finding it, he plucked it from the pile and straightened.
The fading essence of creawdwr blood magic tingled against his fingers. Unfolding the liquor store receipt, he read the words scrawled in Dante’s lefty slant:
Watch over her, ma mère. S’il te plaît, keep her safe. Even from me.
Lucien reread the prayer until the words blurred. He closed his fingers around the receipt, the paper crinkling against his palm. He had no doubt who she was — Special Agent Heather Wallace.
Wounded, his child, yes. Damaged, yes. But Dante’s heart was whole and in love, it seemed, with a mortal. Perhaps Heather Wallace could bind Dante and help keep his sanity from unraveling.
Insanity. The fate of an unbound creawdwr.”
“For what its worth, you're good for him," he said.
Healther looked up at him, surprised.
Von's green gaze held hers. "Family," he said. "It all comes down to who has your back when your tires are running down a strange road & who'll stop to help you patch a flat when that road turns nasty. Family". p. 254”
“You're in love, little brother"
Dante stared at him. "Yeah? I know what love feels like , but this, this, man... fuck me. Steals my breath. Knots me up. Torches me."
Von shook his head. "No, this is what denying love feels like man. Why you denying your heart?”
“I will have you do things you never thought possible, but I can also bring you a pleasure you never imagined.”
“I can't be yours forever, Mab," I told her, the words flying into my mouth as if by magic. "I already belong to someone else. I belong to Alice!”
“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.”
“He bequeaths us His manger, from which to learn how God came down to man, and His cross to teach us how man may go up to God.”
“wraparound Wayfarer sunglasses, a shaved head, and small goatee caught our immediate attention in front of the minimart. He was standing next to another man who had a chocolate bar hanging from his mouth like a cigar. The shaved head motioned to me that he wanted to talk to us, but not right there. “You trust that rowdyass?” Sampson asked as we followed at a safe distance. “Alvin Jackson.” “I trust everybody.” I winked. No wink came back from Sampson. “You are badly fucked-up, Sugar,” he said. His eyes were still seriously hooded. “Just trying to do the right thing.” “Ah, yeah, you’re trying too hard, then.” “That’s why you love me.” “Yes, it is,” Sampson said and finally grinned. “If lovin’ you is wrong, I don’t want to be right,” he talk-sang a familiar lyric. We met Roadrunner Alvin Jackson around”
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