“I look up to say something but he puts his finger to my lips and whispers, “Don’t talk. You’ll just spoil my fantasy of rescuing an innocent damsel in distress as soon as you open your mouth.”
“He glares at me as if he already hates it. “What is it?” I consider lying but what’s the point? I clear my throat. “Pooky Bear."
He’s silent for so long I’m beginning to think he didn’t hear me when he finally says, “Pooky. Bear.” “It was just a little joke. I didn’t know.”
“I’ve mentioned that names have power, right? Do you realize that when she fights battles, she’s going to have to announce herself to the opposing sword? She’ll be forced to say something ridiculous like, ‘I am Pooky Bear, from an ancient line of archangel swords.’ Or, ‘Bow down to me, Pooky Bear, who has only two other equals in all the worlds.’ ” He shakes his head. “How is she going to get any respect?”
“It is painful to see that people prefer a bad guy who looks like an angel to a good guy who looks like a demon.”
“She wasn’t made to be alone.”
“I guess none of us are.”
Our eyes meet and an electric tingle runs through me.
“She missed you,” I say in a whisper.
“Did she?” His voice is a soft caress. His gaze into my eyes is so intense that I swear he sees straight into my soul.
“Yes.” Warmth flushes my cheeks. I… “She thought about you all the time.”
The candlelight flickers a soft glow along his jawline, along his lips. “I hated losing her.” His voice is a low growl. “I hadn’t realized just how attached I’d gotten.” He reaches and moves a strand of wet hair out of my face. “How dangerously addictive she could be.”
“I'm gonna be sick," I said
"I'm ordering you not to," says Obi.
"Ah, don't say that," says Dee-Dum. "She's a born rebel. She'll puke just to make a point.”
“It’s amazing how many times we need to go against our survival instincts to survive.”
“It's about time you showed some sense. You should be afraid."
"I'm shivering because I'm freezing."
"You're cute when you're afraid."
I give him a dirty look. "Yeah, you're cute when you're afraid too."
"You mean I'm devastatingly handsome when I'm not afraid. Because you've never seen me afraid.”
“Let go," I say into his ear.
Raffe holds me tighter like there’s no room for discussion.”
“You're naming your collector's-item, kick-ass sword that's made to maim and kill, specifically designed to bring your ginormous enemies to their knees and hear the lamentation of their women-Pooky Bear?"
"Yeah, you like it?”
“I’m revoking your warrior status,” he says as he watches Clara and her family.
“I had warrior status?”
“For about thirty seconds.”
“What heinous crime did I commit to lose my exalted status?”
“A true warrior would have retrieved her sword first before doing personal business.”
“I’m all about personal business. Every battle I have is personal.”
“Hmm. Good answer. Maybe you’ll eventually regain your status.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
“You're not Fallen are you?"
"From everything I've heard, that would just make me more sexy to you Daughters of Men. What is it that you all see in bad boys?”
“Raffe looks over at the bloody knife in my hand. "If I still had any doubts that it was you, that would do it.”
“He is the one pocket of warmth in a sea of ice. Being in his arms feels like the home I never had.”
“Come on, admit it, Pooky Bear," I said to the sword. "You love your new look. All the other swords will be jealous.”
“I shove the wooden debris out of the way until I see the smudged face of the teddy bear. “There she is.” I carefully pull out the bear and sword. I proudly flip the bridal veil skirt to show him the scabbard. Raffe stares at the disguised sword for a second before commenting.
“Do you know how many kills this sword has?”
“It’s a perfect disguise, Raffe.”
“This sword is not just an angel sword. She’s an archangel sword. Better than an angel sword, in case that’s not clear. She intimidates the other angel swords”
“He sighs. "I miss the days when females could be ordered around and they'd have no choice."
"Sure that wasn't just a myth? I'm pretty sure nobody ever ordered my mom around - ever."
"You're probably right. The unruliness of the women in your family must go back for generations. You're like a plague upon the land.”
“My only thought is that I am not going to end up truly dead this time in Raffe’s arms. I am not going to be one more wound on his soul.”
“Bow down to me Pooky Bear, who has only two other equals in all the worlds.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Thanks for asking.”
...
“Of course you’re fine.” She keeps walking. “You’re the devil’s bride and these are his creatures.”
...
“I’m not the devil’s bride.”
“He carried you out of the fire and is letting you visit us from the dead. Who else would have those privileges except his bride?”
“He glares at me. "I've had to watch you die once, isn't that enough?"
"All you have to do is make sure it doesn't happen again." I give him a sunny smile. "Simple."
"The only thing simple is you. Stubborn little..." His grumbles fades to a point where I can't hear them, but I suspect they're not compliments.”
“A warm arm enfolds me like a shield around my shoulder and turns me toward the side of the stage.
“Stay with me,” says a familiar masculine whisper from above my head. Even over the yelling of the mob and the roaring of the waves, something unfurls in my chest at the sound of that voice.”
“Raffe must be thinking something similar because he tightens his grip around my waist as if to say, “not this one”
“So that’s your sister?” asks Dee in a quiet voice.
“Yeah.”
“The one you risked your life for?”
“Yeah.”
The twins nod politely in that automatic way that people do when they don’t want to say something insulting.
“Your family any better?” I ask.
Dee and Dum look at each other, assessing.
“Nah,” says Dee.
“Not really,” says Dum at the same time.”
“Why is it that everyone else can look like they’re part of a zombie hunting party, but I still have to worry about fashion?”
He won’t stop snickering. “You look like a leopard-spotted Shar-Pei.”
I think those are the little pug-like dogs drowning in massive folds of skin. “You’re scarring me, you know. It could haunt me for the rest of my life to be called a wrinkly little dog at the tender age of seventeen.”
“Yup. A sensitive girl. That just defines you, Penryn.”
“Your world is so different from mine. Do you guys have anything in common with humans?”
He looks at me with those killer eyes in that perfect face over his Adonis body. “Nothing we’ll admit to.”
“There’s no way around it, is there?” I ask. “We’re mortal enemies and I should be trying to kill you and everyone like you.”
He leans over, touches the tip of his forehead to mine, and closes his eyes. “Yes.” His gentle breath caresses my lips as he says the word.
I close my eyes too, and try to focus on the warmth of his forehead resting on mine.”
“I kick him in the face point blank with my high heel.
He wasn't expecting that.
The Angel flies back off the stage.
"It really is you,"says Raffe.”
“You broke me out of the grasp of a living horror when I thought all hope was gone. You gave me the opportunity to crawl back to life when no one else could."
She glances over at me, her eyes shining in the dark. "You're a hero, Penryn, whether you like it or not.”
“The world going crazy doesn’t mean your mother isn’t still crazy too.”
“Of course your fine.” She keeps walking. “You’re the devils bride and these are his creatures.”
“Forgiveness is what we all need to forget the past, even if we”
“Dawn is such a private hour, don’t you think? Such a solitary hour. One always hears that said of midnight, but I think of midnight as remarkably companionable—everyone together, sleeping in the dark.” “I am afraid I am interrupting your solitude,” Anna said. “No, no,” the boy said. “Oh, no. Solitude is a condition best enjoyed in company.” He grinned at her, quickly, and Anna smiled back. “Especially the company of one other soul,” he added, turning back to the sea.”
“I wanted a girl as perfect as Brooke, and instead, she gave me something I never knew I wanted: something perfect that looks like me.”
“There is an old French curse: may your fondest wish come true. If this treatment is cheap and available to everyone, it will destroy the earth through overpopulation. If it is dear and available only to the very rich, it will cause riots, wars, a breakdown of the social contract. Either way, it will lead directly to human misery. What is the value of a long life, when it is lived in squalor and unhappiness?”
“Who are you, gaijin? What do you know about honor?'
'I'm called Chocho,' Will said...
'Chocho?' Arisaka shouted, goaded beyond control. 'Butterfly? Then die, Butterfly!”
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