Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night

Mari began to suspect that this reflection was going to prove to be like that little computer paperclip assistant -- at first it helps, but after a while you just want the paperclip to die.

She, too, is one of Regin’s friends. They’re poker buddies, sisters of the Wii, and Mari is a vaunted member of the karaoke contingent. Regin has long acted as the witches’ designated driver.” “BFF?” Lachlain asked, brows drawn. “Sisters of the what?” Emma supplied, “Best friend forever and a video game.” Lachlain muttered to Emma, “Your relatives are just no’ right.

Darwin says people like you need to die.” (Carrow)

Nïx lay on her side, bending her elbow to casually prop her head in her hand. With a sigh she said, “Bowen, I took you on as my pet project because I like to ogle you. Due to your rowr factor.

It figures—it’s always either the butler or the resurrected mate.

Bad form, Regin! Wrong car." Immediately after, the house shook again. "Oh, much better!" Nix assured them. "That was Bowen's!

What’s your favorite place to visit?” He absently answered, “Wherever you are.” “Bowen, five things about you can’t all be about me.” But you’re the only good thing that I’ve got.

We want you gone. Your presence is obviously upsetting for her." "Oh, aye, the poor, wee lass -- who tossed me like a skipping stone.

Fuckhead: The name’s MariKETA. Go to hell, The WITCH, doing a creepy spell somewhere right now.

Some men would take happiness where they found it. Especially when they have absolutely no promise of it anywhere else. [Rydstrom]

Whenever other Lore creatures like the nymphs and satyrs turned their noses up at the “hex-hacks,” Carrow would raise both her hands in the rock-on horns gesture and shout, “Double, double, toil and trouble, muthafuckas! You just got cursed!” Then she actually would curse them.

I still don’t see why we couldn’t sleep in that cave,” Mari said as MacRieve led her out into the night. “Because my cave’s better than their cave.

You will be leaving, of course." "Or I could help you." "I've had a bit of practice bathing myself and I think I can stumble my way through this.

Damn it, MacRieve, if you keep calling me kitten, then I'm going to start calling you something equivalent, like hound dog - and then we'll both be losers.

Regin hissed at him and followed Mariketa, with Carrow right behind them. As Carrow passed Bowe,she said, “Prick. You and Twice-Baked here deserve each other.

Similar situation ? Like the one where you put me in fear for my life, then let go of that damned vine to heartlessly build my fear ? MacRieve, I hope I enthralled you. Then you can rot wanting me to be yours.

MacRieve, you're on my cloak. Let up -. Give it back!" "It was slowing you - and therefore me - down." "If you had gone first - " "I dinna. If you want it, why no' use magick to take it from me?" "You really do not want me to do that." "You really must no' want your cloak back. Come then, witchling, just take it from me." "Keep the cloak. It'll be worth money one day." "Doona fret, witch. You're no' so unbecoming from my angle. Bit scrawny where it counts, but no' too bad." "Scrawny where it counts, MacRieve? Funny, I'd heard the same about you." "No' likely. Maybe you're just too young to have heard the rumors about Lykae males. Tender wee ears and such.

Bashful? She and her friends made Girls Gone Wild look like a quilting circle.

Witch, he's not coming back," the demon Rydstrom told Mari. "Don't waste your time waiting for him." Cade asked Mari, "What did you do to the Lykae anyway?" She absently murmured, "I've killed him." Mari glanced away from the entrance when met with silence. "He won't regenerate from injuries," she explained. "Unless he returns to me to have it reversed, the hex will eventually destroy him." Tierney, who looked to be Tera's younger brother, said, "You made him mortal?" They all seemed shocked at her viciousness, except for Cade, who as far as she could tell from his demonic countenance, appeared admiring. "Remind me not to piss you off, witch," he said.

Age before beauty, Mr. MacRieve. If you think you can fit." "Only humans call me Mr. MacRieve." "I'm not a human. So would you like me to call you Bowen, or Bowe for short?" "Bowe is what my friends call me, so you doona." "No problem. I have a slew of other more fitting names for you. Most of them end in er." "You in the tunnel first." "Don't you think it'd be unbecoming for me to be on my hands and knees in front of you? Besides, you don't need my lantern to see in the dark, and if you go first, you'll be sure to lose me and get to the prize first." "I doona like anything, or anyone, at my back. And you'll have your little red cloak on, so I will no' be able to see anything about you that might be... unbecoming." "Twisting my words? I'll have you know that I am criminally cute - " "Then why hide behind a cloak?" "I'm not hiding. And I like to wear it. Fine. Beauty before age.

You think I should use magick like mine to open a tomb?" Mari asked in a scoffing tone. Mistress of bluffing, working it here. "That'd be like calling you in to lift a feather.

All at once Mari understood why people fought losing battles —because if you want something badly enough, you can’t do anything else but fight for it.

Well I am young." Just as he felt a flicker of ease, she murmured in a sexy voice, "But, baby, I've been busy.

Witches are good for one thing and only one thing. Tinder. Bowen Graeme MacRieve.

And they just let you enter after their effort?" "What should they have done, Mr MacRieve?" "I know exactly what I would have done." "I know exactly how I would have retaliated.

Horses have powerful legs- but that doesn't mean they're prima ballerinas. Elianna to Mariketa.

It figures--it's always either the butler or the resurrected mate." [Elianna]

On that ledge in the blackness, she'd truly recognized for the first time in her life that some creatures who went bump in the night might hate that they did.

Yo no siento nada de eso. (…) Al principio, estuve furioso. Luego me di cuenta de que si podemos estar juntos, entonces todo me ha traído a ti. Piensa en ello, debo dar gracias incluso a ese maldito vampiro por golpearme en el Hie. Si no hubiera sido por eso... (…) Además, no me importa la lucha, cuando el premio es tan digno. - Bowen a Mariketa

There was an aura about him that was staggering to her, making it difficult to think. It wasn't mere male heat and sensuality. It was raw sexuality, animalistic in its intensity—and she was starving for it.