Midnight Blue-Light Special

Blood is thicker than water, but family isn’t just about blood. Family is about faith, and loyalty, and who you love. If you don’t have those things, I don’t care what the blood says. You’re not family.

Since Dominic's been sleeping with me, the mice have been trying various labels on him, looking for one that fits. My personal favorite was the week they spent calling him "the God of Absolutely Never Smiling, No, Not Ever.

I require something so horrifically alcoholic that it makes livers tremble with fear and run for their lives when its name is uttered.

Well, that’s not something you see every day. Go tell your father that Grandma needs the grenades.

Blood is one thing, but that’s not all that goes into family. The family you choose is the family that really matters. They’re the ones who’ll keep you standing.

Any man who doesn't believe in carrying weapons on a first date is not a man worth knowing.

Don’t be careful. Be courageous. Don’t be safe. Be strong. Don’t be a victim. Be the one who makes it home.” —Evelyn Baker

There was a moment of silence before Istas said, “I was unaware the telepathic girl possessed a temper. This is pleasing. Temperamental people are more likely to participate in carnage.” “Sweetie, what have we talked about?” asked Ryan. Now it was Istas’ turn to sigh. “Humans are discomforted by excessive discussion of their squishy interiors.” “Which means . . . ?” “No referencing carnage more than once in a single conversation.

Hail!” chorused the mice. “Hail the High Priest of Goddammit Eat Something Already!

One day you will have to tell me where you acquired this aversion to walking on solid ground,” said Dominic. “Try having a baby sister whose idea of a good time involves pit traps and land mines,” I advised.

You think cold pizza is a breakfast food,” I said. “Only if you put Captain Crunch on it,” she replied. There was a moment of silence as all of us considered this.

The best thing I ever did was figure out how to hide a pistol in my brassiere. The second best thing I ever did was let Thomas figure out how to find it, but that’s a story for another day.” —Alice Healy

You know what, honey? You’re right. It’s time to change my approach. Can you give me one of those nice concussion grenades?

Ryan, I require something so horrifically alcoholic that it makes livers tremble with fear and run for their lives when its name is uttered,” I said solemnly.

Shooting to wound was only a few inches from missing your target entirely, and a different few inches from killing them.

We need a plan.” “Don’t die,” suggested Ryan. “We need a better plan.” “Don’t get seriously injured,” said Uncle Mike. I eyed him.

I hate taxis, subways freak me right the hell out, I don’t have a car, and no one who isn’t a bike messenger, certifiable, or both tries to ride a bike in Manhattan.” I shrugged. “I stick to the rooftops. It’s worked out pretty well for me so far.” “You mean you haven’t reduced yourself to a street pancake due to a misjudged leap.” “That’s what I said, isn’t it? It’s worked out pretty well so far.

Any ending where you’re still standing on your own feet is a happy one.

Never forget that I loved you, and I did the best by you I could. You can forget everything else about me, but please. Don’t forget that.” —Enid Healy

I looked back to Dominic, who was watching me with unguarded affection. “You are insane, infuriating, and in dire need of aid if you’re going to survive this,” he said. “My help was always yours. All you had to do was ask for it.” “I’m asking,” I said. “Then I’m yours.