“He's twenty-nine. And what did you think he was going to look like?"
"You know-old. Grizzled. Long white beard. Scruffy robes. Loveable, smart, a little absent minded."
I bit back a grin.
" I said 'sorcerer,' not 'Dumbledore.' So he's hot. It could be worse.”
“Well, what?” I waved a hand at the room.
“Start genuflecting. Let’s see some knee action.”
“You’re serious.” I lifted my brows.
He responded in kind, but finally nodded his head, then walked between the couches. He dropped to one knee, then held out his hands.
“I’m monumentally sorry for the pain and humiliation that I caused you and your—”
“I’d prefer to see both knees on the ground. I mean, if you’re going to grovel, be the best groveler you can, right?”
“As we left the kitchen, I asked, “Can I hold your sword today?”
Catcher glanced back over his shoulder and lifted a brow.
“The sword,” I corrected. “The sword.”
“Luc : It's time for our annual review of Rules You Disrespectful Bastards Never Follow.”
“Stop. That was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened."
"I could offer you more.”
"Power. Access. Rewards. You’d need be available only to me.”
"Are you asking me to be your mistress?”
"Oh, my God.”
"Is that a yes?”
"No, Ethan, Jesus. Definitely not.”
"You just offered to make me your whore.”
"To be the Consort of a Master vampire is an honor, Initiate, not an insult.”
"It’s an insult to me. I’m not going to be your—anyone’s—sexual outlet. When that . . . happens for me, when I meet him, I want partnership. Love. You don’t trust me enough for the former, and I’m not even sure you’re capable of the latter.”
“Do you understand what I’m offering you?"
"Do you understand that it’s not 1815?"
"It’s not unusual for Masters to have Consorts."
"Yes, and your current Consort’s in my kitchen right now. If you need . . . relieving, talk to her."
"As much as it pains me to say it, Amber isn’t you."
"I don’t even know what that means. Should I—What? Be flattered that while you don’t like me, you’re willing to sacrifice just to get into my pants?”
“Although security and warfare had never been my gig, vampire security was highly contextual and thus incredibly interesting. There were links to history (Vampires were screwed over yesterday!) and politics (House X screwed us over yesterday!), philosophy (Why do you think they screwed us over yesterday?) and ethics (If we didn’t bite, would they have screwed us over yesterday?), and, of course, strategy (How did they screw us over? How can we keep them from screwing us over again or, better yet, screw them over first?).”
“You have to call Darth Sullivan your 'Liege'?"
I grinned. "Only if I expect him to answer.”
“Asking about someone’s animal is the shifter equivalent of pulling a ruler and asking a guy to whip it out.”
“Much to my dismay”—and that rang clear in the irritably flat tone of his voice—“I find I have a sudden taste for stubborn, lithe brunettes with horrible fashion sense.”
“I slid Mallory a glance. “He’s (Jeff) your test? He thinks anything with breasts looks good.”
"Since you don’t qualify, that’s why I asked him over.”
“A slap wouldn’t have pulled me out of the trance any faster.”
“I stepped back, pivoted on a heel, and swivelled my hip for a side kick. It probably seemed, to a casual observer, that I was warming up, taking a few well-aimed kicks at an inanimate object.
But in my mind, THWACK, I was kicking, THWACK, a certain Master vampire, THWACK, in the face.”
“I'm just warning you, I'm probably going to be a total hard-ass vamp."
Mallory snorted and walked out of the kitchen, calling out, "Yeah, well, you've got a purple marshmallow on your chin, hard-ass vamp.”
“I wouldn’t say I was forward, but I made a move when I was interested.”
“You cannot seriously think you’re going to fight this guy. He could kick your ass with one arm tied behind his back, much less with all his voluminous vampire powers. He’s probably stronger than you, faster than you. He can probably jump higher. Hell, he can probably glamour you into making out with him right there on the mats.”
We simultaneously looked over to where Ethan, half naked, was toeing off his black leather loafers. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he moved. So did the lines of corded muscle across his shoulders.
God, but he was beautiful.
I narrowed my gaze.
Beautiful but evil. Wicked. The repugnant dregs of foul malevolence. Or something.
“Jesus,” Mallory whispered. “I want to support your quest for revenge and all, but maybe you should just let him glamour you.” She looked at me, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Either you’re fucked, or you’re fucked, right?”
“Sullivan, just pick it up."
"My way is more genteel."
"Your way is more tight ass."
"Your respect for me, Sentinel, is astounding."
"I'd respect you more if you took a bite of that dog."
"You don't respect me any."
"Like I said, I'd respect you more. More than none.”
“Chapter Four : The things that go bump in the night...are probably registered voters in Cook County”
“Fair enough" I gave him. "But you've got really nice shoes."
He blinked, then cast a dubious glance at his boots. "They were in my closet." I snorted and plucked at the sleeves of his jacket.
"Please you've been planning this outfit for a week.”
“We'll see if she can rise to the occasion, do what needs to be done."
"We'll see if she can manage not to kill her Liege and Master, especially if he continues talking about her like she's not in the room.”
“I tried to tune out the sensation and, embarassed at the silvering of my eyes-I have to admit, I had a sudden, new sympathy for men faced with hiding their arousal-I squeezed them shut.”
“You've got better boobs," I acknowledged. And just as we'd done each time we'd had this boobs-versus-legs conversation, we looked down at our chests. Ogled. Compared.”
“If you weren't taken, I'd date you myself."
"Which one of us were you talking to, hon?"
"I think she meant the [hot] dog.”
“Anyone wanna dance?"
"I could dance I need to change, but I can dance."
"Nice going, Gandalf. You'll rile her up, and I'll never get her tucked in. You wanna give her candy and caffeine while you're at it?”
“Give me a break, I'm trying to Gratefully Condescend.”
“Don't they feed you at Navarre house?"
"They throw out some gruel between the indoctrination sessions and propaganda films. Then we're off marching around the grounds and the recitation of sonnets to Celina's loveliness.”
“I had to fight the urge to turn on him and level my sword at the shrunken black nugget of his heart.”
“They’ll respect deeds, Ethan, not words.”
“You do that Helen", Mallory dared. "And tell him we said to f*ck off while youre at it".”
“Her face was wet with tears.
A foreigner in the world of the emotions, ignorant of their language but compelled to listen to it, I turned into the street. With every step I marvelled more at the extent of Marian's self-deception. Why then was I moved by what she had said? Why did I half wish that I could see it all as she did? And why should I go on this preposterous errand? I hadn't promised to and I wasn't a child, to be ordered about. My car was standing by the public call-box; nothing easier than to ring up Ted's grandson and make my excuses. . . .
But I didn't, and hardly had I turned in at the lodge gates, wondering how I should say what I had come to say, when the south-west prospect of the Hall, long hidden from my memory, sprang into view.”
“يُمكن لنا أن نعتاد. إننا نسمع في أحيان كثيرة، أو أننا نقوله نحن بالذات، يُمكن للمرء أن يعتاد، يقولون، نقول، بهدوء يبدو حقيقيًا، لأنه لا وجود له في الحقيقة، ولم يُكتشف بعد أسلوب آخر للتعبير عن استسلامنا بقدر ممكن من الكرامة، وما لا يسأل عنه أحد: ما هي الكلفة حتى يعتاد أحدنا.”
“It sounds strange, somewhat on the line between irony and absurdity, to think that people would rather label and judge something as significant as each other but completely bypass a peanut. ... World peace is only a dream because people won't allow themselves and others around them to simply be peanuts. We won't allow the color of a man's heart to be the color of his skin, the premise of his beliefs, and his self-worth. We won't allow him to be a peanut, therefore we won't allow ourselves to come to live in harmony. (Diary 18)”
“You see more than most people,” Mikhail said. “You are a great asset to me, Raven.”
She shook her head, sitting up as well, her long hair sliding over her breasts like a cape. “Not yet, but I hope to be. Send for Jacques. But go feed before you see him. You made me weak with your lovemaking, and if you’ll forgive a little crude Carpathian humor, I’ll expect you to bring me home dinner.”
Startled, he stared at her. For a long moment there was silence, and then they both burst out laughing.”
“In the painting I saw, in the books I read, I recalled her, for she her had in many ways been the making of me.”
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