“She was hearing the words. They just weren't registering on her Richter scale of sanity.”
“This was like the Rubik's Cube of life.
One big glob of scattered, multicolored possibilities she had to sort out and line up in the appropriate manner by twisting endless scenario after scenario in her head.
And it sucked.
Big, fat wankers.”
“Do you promise to help me pack up my apartment and get all my stuff? I have a lot of stuff. A lot. Shoes and purses and clothes and nail polish. I have way more purses than you brought and at least a gatrillion dresses. I can't live without them-'
'I promise to haul your shit around.”
“Her mental list of items she’d need from her apartment was growing. There were things a girl just couldn’t live without, so Keegan would have to get them when he retrieved Muffin.
“I need another purse. Can you get me my Prada knockoff? It’s in my closet on the shelf. Pink. It’s pink. I got it from a vendor in Manhattan. Jeez he was a tough negotiator, but it was worth the haggling. It’s soooo cute.”
Keegan sighed, raspy and long. “Okay.”
“Oh! And my nail polish. I have two new bottles in the bathroom under the sink in one of those cute organizer baskets, you know? Like the ones you get at Bed Bath and Beyond? God, I love those. Anyway, I need Retro Red and Winsome Wisteria.”
Another sigh followed, and then a nod of consent.
“My moisturizer. I never go anywhere, not even overnight, without my moisturizer. Not that I ever really go anywhere, but anyway I need it, or my skin will dehydrate and it could just be ugly. Top left side of my medicine cabinet.”
“Er, okay.”
“My shoes. I can’t be without shoes. Let’s see. I need my tennis shoes and my white sandals, because I don’t think there’s much hope for these, wouldn’t you say?” Marty looked up at him and saw impatience written all over his face. “And my laptop. I can’t check on my clients without my laptop, and they need me. Plus, there’s that no-good bitch Linda Fisher. I have to watch that she’s not stealing my accounts. Do you have all of that?”
He gave her that stern look again. The one that made her insides skedaddle around even if it was meant in reproach.
“I’m going too far, huh?”
His smile was crooked. “Just a smidge.”
“Werewolf was soooooo in her color wheel.”
“At that point, when she'd been staring down the account-whoring, turbo-bitch's face, she wouldn't have much cared if her head spun around and she'd yarked up pea soup at warp speed all over her. At least it would have matched Linda's new color ranking.”
“I want you to listen to me carefully. I don't give a shit what the council says. You're here, you're mine, and nothing they say or do will change that. Period.”
“She's a lesbian Marty. Girls, she likes girls and no amount of frosted eye shadow is going to make her want dick.”
“Stephan’s hand left his breast, and reached out. Grey took it, and felt love flow between them. He thought that heart and body must be entirely melted—if only for that moment. Then they parted, each drawing back, each seeing the flash of desolation in the other’s face, both smiling ruefully to see it.”
“Nobody knows, nobody can ever know, not even in memory, because there are moments in time that are not knowable.”
“That is the physics that all fearless types discover at some point—an appropriate ratcheting up of self-belief and energy when facing negative or even impossible circumstances. Fearless”
“He caught me stealing his golden phoenix.'
Tithonus closed his eyes briefly. 'Good grief!' He opened them again. 'I was half hoping it wasn't true. Have you any idea of the implications?'
'He was mistreating it!' Pyrgus protested.
'Of course he was mistreating it. This is Black Hairstreak we're talking about. He mistreats his own mother. I don't suppose you stole her as well?”
“He’s a creature of today—not haunted by the past or fearful of the future!”
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