“The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp's mouth, and pulled them up by their edges.
"What are you doing?" Ghastek asked.
"My hole puncher broke."
"You have no respect for the undead.”
“Not only will you sleep with me, but you will say 'please.'"
I stared at him, shocked.
The smile widened. "You will say 'please' before and 'thank you' after."
Nervous laughter bubbled up. "You've gone insane. All that peroxide in your hair finally did your brain in, Goldilocks.”
“I don't want it to be attributed to a loss of control on my part. When I throw you out of the window, I want there to be no doubt the act was deliberate.”
“You don't cause problems. You cause catastrophes.”
“How much are you lifting?"
"Seven hundred."
Alrighty then. I will just stand over here, out of your way, and hope you don't remember to kick my ass.
He grinned. "Wanna spot me?"
"No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?" I took a deep breath and barked, "No pain, no gain! That pain is just weakness leaving your body! Come on! Push! Push! Make that weight your bitch!”
“I'm a substitute mom."
"You're more like a crazy aunt who only gets called when somebody needs bailing out of jail.”
“He put the book down. “As you wish.” He rose and walked past me. I lowered my sword, expecting him to pass, but suddenly he stepped in dangerously close. “Welcome home. I’m glad you made it. There is coffee in the kitchen for you.”
My mouth gaped open.
He inhaled my scent, bent close, about to kiss me…
I just stood there like an idiot.
Curran smirked and whispered in my ear instead. “Psych.”
And just like that, he was out the door and gone.
Oh boy.”
“Yes. What is it, guilt, revenge, love, what?”
I swallowed. “I live alone.”
"And your point is?”
"You have the Pack. You’re surrounded by people who would fall over themselves for the pleasure of your company. I have no one. My parents are dead, my entire family is gone. I have no friends. Except Jim, and that’s more of a working relationship than anything else. I have no lover. I can’t even have a pet, because I’m not at the house often enough to keep it from starving. When I come crawling home, bleeding and filthy and exhausted, the house is dark and empty. Nobody keeps the porch light on for me. Nobody hugs me and says, ‘Hey, I’m glad you made it. I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried.’ Nobody cares if I live or die. Nobody makes me coffee, nobody holds me before I go to bed, nobody fixes my medicine when I’m sick. I’m by myself.”
“Your ability to remain alive never ceases to amaze me.”
“You're an interesting woman."
"Your interest has been duly noted.”
“I think I've been rather reasonable about this whole situation."
"How do you figure?"
"They are still breathing, aren't they?”
“I'm secure enough in myself to wear panties with bows on them. Besides, they are comfy and soft."
"I bet." He almost purred.
I gulped.”
“Now climb, young grasshopper, so your Kung Fu won't be weak.”
“You know what I like about you? You have no sense. You sit here in my house, you can barely hold a spoon, and you're telling me 'no'. You'd pull on Death's whiskers if you could reach them.”
“I make a bad mom, but I can pull off a crazy aunt.”
“You know," she said, stirring her tea, "the fastest way to get him off your back is to sleep with him. And tell him you love him. Preferably while in bed."
I smirked and the tea almost came out of my nose. "He'd run like he was on fire.”
“He lunged for the maps. I grabbed the chair and hit him with it. He went down. I hit him again to make sure he stayed that way, stepped over him, and picked up the maps.
"I win.”
“We were screwed and he didn't even kiss us first.”
“He said 'woman' in the same way I'd say 'Mmmm, yummy chocolate.”
“Secret to what?"
"Secret to shutting you up," he said. "I just have to beat you till you're half-dead, then give you chicken soup and"--he raised his hands--"blessed silence.”
“You're not going to die?"
"Not right this minute." And of course, saying something like that usually resulted in immediate dying. I braced myself for a stray meteorite falling through the roof to crush my skull.”
“I chuckled to myself and kept walking. The Universe had proven Curran wrong: a person who aggravated him more than me did, in fact, exist.”
“What would I do without the moral compass of a teenage werewolf?”
“Wanna spot me?"
"No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?”
“You were joking about the whole please and thank you thing, right?"
"Meant every word." A little light danced in his eyes and he very deliberately said, "Baby."
No.
He laughed. "You should see your face right now."
"Don't call me that."
"Would you prefer 'darling'? Or maybe 'cupcake'?" He winked.”
“I had the metabolism of a hummingbird on crack.”
“If he full-out flexed, I would probably faint, or jump off the building.”
“It's not your job to die for your Pack! It's your job to make the other bastards die for theirs.”
“This was hell and I was its fury.”
“Perhaps I just wasn't scary enough. Maybe I should invest in some horns or fangs.”
“C'est le problème avec la distance : soit vous tournez la page, soit vous comprenez à quel point vous avez besoin de la personne.”
“After we passed a few more houses, the street ceased to mantain any pretense of urbanity, like a man returning to his little village who, piece by piece, strips off his Sunday best, slowly changing back into a peasant as he gets closer to his home.”
“But as the sun rose I crested the mountain of my self-pity and remembered I was always going to die at the end of this life anyway. What did it really matter if I spent it like this—caring for this boy—as opposed to some other way? I would always be earthbound; he hadn’t robbed me of my ability to fly or to live forever. I appreciated nuns now, not the conscripted kind, but modern women who chose it. If you were wise enough to know that this life would consist mostly of letting go of things you wanted, then why not get good at the letting go, rather than the trying to have? These exotic revelations bubbled up involuntarily and I began to understand that the sleeplessness and vigilance and constant feedings were a form of brainwashing, a process by which my old self was being molded, slowly but with a steady force, into a new shape: a mother. It hurt. I tried to be conscious while it happened, like watching my own surgery. I hoped to retain a tiny corner of the old me, just enough to warn other women with. But I knew this was unlikely; when the process was complete I wouldn’t have anything left to complain with, it wouldn’t hurt anymore, I wouldn’t remember.”
“Instead, the lesson is that false beliefs, once they’ve become culturally entrenched—once they’ve become tribal badges of honor—are very difficult to change, and changing them is no longer simply a matter of educating people.”
“Students who were harder on themselves for procrastinating on their first exam were more likely to procrastinate on later exams than students who forgave themselves. The harder they were on themselves about procrastinating the first time, the longer they procrastinated for the next exam! Forgiveness—not guilt—helped them get back on track.”
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