Magic Triumphs

Yes, bad. Look at Daddy ripping the bad man to pieces. Go Daddy!

Only Celts would use nine letters to make one sound.

Her eyes sparkled. “You should try calling, ‘Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.’” “I will kill you and nobody will find your body.

No. Besides, if you can’t trust an ice giant driving a creeper van with a dead body inside, who can you trust?

Sometimes I jump on the table and kick people in the face, but I’m always civil about it.

You don’t do subtle. Your subtle is pulling a kick so you don’t kill a man with it, just break his bones.

I don’t know any lion hunters, period. And you know what, apple pie worked for me.” “I’ve got news for you, it wasn’t your apple pie Curran was interested in.

The world was going crazy. Nothing left to do but hold on and yell “Wheee!” at strategic moments.

Come in. Tea?” “No.” “I’ll get you some chamomile,” Barabas said. “You look like you need it.” “Right now, I’d have to drown in calming tea for it to do any good.

You’ll always be a bastard. There is a part of you that enjoys kicking the door in and throwing a severed head on the table.

I don't have time for druid shenanigans.

Knocking, it’s a thing,” I told him. “You make a fist, lift it, and gently hit the door to let the person inside know you are out there.

Did you set a blood ward around us, so you could scream at me uninterrupted?” “YES!

Six vampires came scuttling over the roof, in assorted colors of sunblock, like someone spilled a bag of Skittles. Taste the undead rainbow.

Those books made it crystal clear that giving honey to your baby before he was a year old made you a terrible mother. The moment a spoon of honey would touch his lips, the words “Awful Mother” would appear on your forehead, forever branding you as a parenting failure.

Christopher’s expression sharpened, growing somehow more fragile. “The two of you only remember the man in the cage. Before that I was the Legatus of the Golden Legion. I murdered my way to the top. I committed atrocities. And unlike Hugh, I have nobody to blame but myself. I own everything I’ve done. I did it because I wanted power. I must live with it. Hugh lives with his memories. It will be his choice to atone for what he has done, or not. But I’ve forgiven Hugh, because if I don’t forgive him, there is no hope for forgiveness for someone like me.

Society frowned on killing your best friend. In this case, it would just have to make an exception.

It’s funny how you use logic in an argument and think it will persuade me.

History had a way of rolling over the best-laid plans like a runaway bulldozer.

The world needs more good people in it, and my son will be a good person.

If it weren’t for my mother’s sacrifice, I would be Hugh now, sitting here, waiting for a crumb of kindness from someone I’d hurt.

One minute later we sat on the bed, staring at a plate on the floor with two chocolate chip cookies and a small puddle of honey. “I don’t think you understand the whole predatory cat thing,” Andrea informed me.

If I have to murder Hugh, I don’t want to do it naked,” he said. “It would be weird.

You know my price,” he told her. Elara leaned back and crossed her arms, her face iced over. “Really?” “The whole thing. You’ll put it in your mouth and you’ll swallow.” What? “The whole thing?

There was so much I could teach her.

Take me off your calling list, or I will find you and make you regret it.

This was above my pay grade. I had no idea how to deal with this sort of magic. That was okay. I was a quick learner.

Huny.” Conlan sniffled. “I don’t negotiate with terrorists. Oatmeal or nothing.

My mother used to say that family, blood or found, was our salvation. It was the net that caught us when we drowned and gently lifted us up out of the raging waters. She was wise, my mother.