“Everyone suffers at least one bad betrayal in their lifetime. It’s what unites us. The trick is not to let it destroy your trust in others when that happens. Don’t let them take that from you.”
“I'm too young, too smart and too good-looking to die.”
“Grim sighed heavily. "I swear I'm getting a migraine."
"My mom suffers from those a lot, too."
"Being around you, I imagine she does.”
“The wealth of a soul is measured by how much it can feel... its poverty by how little.”
“Your destiny is shaped by choice, never by chance. Beware the decisions you make, no matter how small, for they will be your salvation...or your death.”
“Nick froze instantly. "You don't mock my mother. You don't speak of her in anything but the most reverent of tones. I don't care if you are Death, I will open a can of Cajun whup-ass all over you, boy.”
“Dude! Put a bell on. You don't walk up on a brother like that and scare the crap out of him. (Nick)
Sorry. Didn't realize you scared like a little girl. (Acheron)”
“Stop a minute and listen. I know I'm asking the impossible from you, but for once in your life, shut your mouth and open your ears."
"I'm not the one talking."
Kyrian snarled at him. "Don't get smart with me."
"You want me stupid?"
"Nick....”
“Without a word or hesitation, Pain took the mop from Nick. Suffering moved to pick up glass.
"Wow. Where have you two been all my life?"
Pain quirked and eyebrow as he mopped the floor.
"Walking hand in hand with you. Haven't you noticed?”
“Do me a favor."
"Don't lick your seat belt?"
Ash's expression was total confusion. "Huh? where did that randomness come from?”
“If you want to know the Correct term for me, I'm a Dark-Hunter."
Nick digested that word slowly. "Which means what? You hunt darkness?"
"Yes, Nick. That's exactly what I do. There's just not enough of it." Now, there was some sarcasm you could cut with a knife.”
“I would ask what it is you think you're doing, but... you are a teenager. I should have known better than to leave you in the car unattended. Next time, I'll seal you in there...probably with bricks. Maybe even mortar."
Nick ignored his dry tone. "Just so long as you make sure nothing can get inside to kill me, I'm good with that."
Ash frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"The kid dead on the ground. Fourteen, Ash. Fourteen. I'm fourteen."
"Yeah..."
"Ash, I'm fourteen"
"Got it. You're fourteen. I'm so proud you can count that high. It's a testament to the modern American educational system. But I should probably point out that you're no the only one. I'm told you go to a school with a whole class of -get this- kids who are fourteen."
Nick rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. No wonder his mom wanted to hurt him for it. He finally understood. "Yeah, but they're not dead. Someone's killing fourteen-year-old boys, which I happen to be one. The cops said so. This is the second one in a day who's been murdered."
"Yeah well given the lippiness of the average teenager, I can understand the urge"
"You're not funny."
"And you need to calm down. The only person you need to fear killing you when I'm around is me.”
“Aren't you an enigma wrapped in a thick coating of contradictions.”
“Nick sat on the stairs, completely comatose. He stared straight ahead as if he'd been frozen in place.
"Nick? You all right?"
He didn't respond.
Kyrian moved around him until he stood in front of him. He snapped his fingers in front of Nick's face. "Kid?"
Nick blinked before he met Kyrian's gaze. "I'm not worthy," he said in a breathless tone.
Baffled by his comment, Kyrian stared at him. "What?"
Nick gestured towards his cars. "Dude that's a Ferrari, Lamborghini, Bugatti, Alfa Romeo, Aston Martin, and a Bentley. And I'm not talking the cheap models. Those are the top of the top of the top of the line, fully loaded. I swear, that's real gold trim in the Bugatti. There's more money in metal in here than my brain can even tabulate. Oh my God! I shouldn't even be breathing the same air."
Kyrian laughed at his awed tone. "It's all right, Nick. I need you to clean them."
"Are you out of your ever-loving mind? What if I scratch them?"
"You won't"
"Nah I might. Those aren't cars, Kyrian. Those are works of art. I'm talking serious modes of transportation."
"I know, and I drive them all the time."
"No, no, no, no, no. I can't touch something so fine. I can't"
Kyrian cuffed him on the shoulder. "Yes, you can. They don't bite, and they need to be washed.”
“Human will is the strongest will ever created. There are those who are born to succeed and those who are determined to succeed. The former fall into it, and the latter pursue it at all costs. They won’t be denied. Nothing daunts them.”
“They say when you're about to die, you see your entire life flash before your eyes.
They lied.
The only thing Nick Gautier could see flashing was Kyrian Hunter's vampire fangs.”
“1. Replace upstairs hall bathroom lightbulb.
2. Get online and research Ferragamo shoes, then email someone named Kell to see if he could convert Ferragamos into weapons.
3. Order a replacement coat for the one that was torn. (see closet for coat) Make sure it matches exactly.
4. Wash Cars.
5. Take out trash for Rosa
6. Most important, don't bitch.”
“Stop your bitching, Nick. You should try being an immortal demon who’s lived since the dawn of time having to sit through this crap when English is not my native tongue, and if you think you’re fluent in it, buddy, I actually know what a gerund is.”
“The smallest decisions made had such profound repercussions. One ten-minute wait could save a life… Or end it… One wrong turn down the right street or one seemingly unimportant conversation, and everything was changed. It wasn’t right that each lifetime was defined, ruined, ended, and made by such seemingly innocuous details. A major life-threatening event should come with a flashing warning sign that either said ABANDON ALL HOPE or SAFETY AHEAD. It was the cruelest joke of all that no one could see the most vicious curves until they were over the edge, falling into the abyss below.”
“Look and you wlll see, that which was can never be. When they seek a boy your age, Run, you flippin moron, run!”
“Fine. Let’s begin with something even you can’t screw up.” – Death
“Way to build up my crappy confidence there. You should volunteer for the suicide hotline.” – Nick
“What makes you think I don’t?” – Death”
“Were you raised in a barn? You don't just walk into someone's house."
Ash laughed. "I have an open invitation to enter whenever I'm here."
"Yeah, but what if he's naked or something?"
Ash led him into the foyer. "I've known Kyrian for over two thousand years, and I can honesty say that I have never once caught him naked in his living room."
The door closed behind them without Ash or Nick touching it- something that always unnerved Nick when Ash did it. "Besides, Rosa's still here. I know he's not walking around bare-assed with her on duty.”
“Calm down. I’m a demon, Nick. Hematite doesn’t like my genetics. It doesn’t mean anything other than I have really bad parentage.”
“Then why am I having flashes of you killing me?”
“What’d you eat this morning?”
Nick didn’t care for that answer. Not one little bit. “I saw it happen. You were choking the life out of me.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah. That is definitely a figment of your overactive, over-Hollywood-stimulated imagination. I assure you. I don’t kill people that way. Takes too long. I’m not into torture. I prefer a quick death so that I can move on to something more satisfying.”
Strangely enough, that he believed. Patience wasn’t a virtue Caleb practiced. “You sure?”
“Dude, look at me. You think I’d have let the demons pound all over me last night so that you could escape if I had any intention of killing you? Really?”
“Well . . . he lets it ruin his life. He gets so obsessed with going after the one thing that hurt him that he loses sight of everything else. He becomes isolated from everyone and everything. Paranoid. He feels like he can't trust anyone around him ever. In the end, he loses everything, even his life. And for what? Total stupidity, if you ask me.”
“Ninety percent of intelligence was knowing when to shut up.’ – Cherise”
“You can’t buy time, Nick. Ever. It’s the only thing in life you can’t get most of, and it’s the one thing that will mercilessly tear you up when it’s gone. It takes no pity on no soul and no heart.”
“Let me give you free advice, kid. Whenever something is coming for you, snap its neck or double tap. Never, ever hesitate. It’s infinitely better to be judged by twelve than carried by six.” – Death”
“All of us are a culmination of vital parts of our parents and their pasts. A vital part of the circumstances we were raised with. Everything that happens to us, good and bad, leaves a lasting impression in our souls. You take one part of that out, and you can completely rewrite something crucial about us. By and large, we're not shaped by the big things. It's the little day to day moments that make us who we are. Who we're going to be."
His head was pounding from trying to digest all of this.
"I'm so overwhelmed."
"Most of us are, Nick. Even though we look calm and peaceful on the outside, most of us are barely hanging on by our fingernails.”
“Oh, no. We can’t have that. Where you going, Mr. Meanie-Pants? You don’t hurt people then run. That’s just rude. Can the Simi barbecue him, or is he on the ‘No Simi’ eat list?” – Simi”
“All right, the pendulum isn’t working. Sometimes you need an accelerant to help it.” – Death
“Like gasoline?” – Nick
“Yes, Nick. We’re going to set the book and your pendulum on fire and then use them ’cause we’re just that intelligent.” – Death”
“Amelia looked at the eggs-like sickly, jaundiced eyes-and thought of her own eggs, a handful left, old shrivelled like musty dried fruit where once they must have been bursting toward the light-”
“Do you really keep a diary? I'd give anything to look at it. May I?
Oh, no. You see, it is simply a very young girl's record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy.”
“A use-value, or useful article, therefore, has value only because abstract human labour is objectified or materialized in it. How, then, is the magnitude of this value to be measured? By means of the quantity of the "value-forming substance", the labour, contained in the article. This quantity is measured by its duration, and the labour-time is itself measured on the particular scale of hours, days etc.”
“When the situation is hopeless, there's nothing to worry about.”
“I wish I could tell my parents, " If you want to help me, help me die.”
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