“What do you know about dragons?”
“They're big, scaly, four-legged creatures with wings who terrorized small villages until a virgin was offered up as a sacrifice.”
His grinned again. “I do miss the virgins.”
“I walked over to Drake and stomped on his foot. Hard. "What will I give you to
help me? What will I give you?"
He stood on one leg rubbing his foot, grinning a grin so steamy, it almost melted
my underwear. "I never doubted you would defeat her. You are my mate. You
could do no less."
I pointed a finger at him. "You are too arrogant for your own good. I officially
de-mate you. Go away. I never want to see you again. Except maybe tonight.
Naked. Your place. But after that, no more.”
“You are too arrogant for your own good. I officially de-mate you. Go away. I never want to see you again. Except maybe tonight. Naked. Your place. But after that, no more.”
“Jim eyed me for a couple of seconds, then got off the bed and went to curl up on the pile of blankets I'd
arranged as its bed. "I don't suppose you'd care to lend me a couple hundred euros?"
I pointed at the wall. It turned its back to me so I could get into the nightgown Perdita had lent me. "You
are not going to bet on me. Or against me. No betting whatsoever.
Jim huffed and settled down for the night. "You sure do know how to take all the fun out of life. Bet you
even made Drake use a condom.”
“...but I forgot that I've been bound to the Forest Gump of Guardians. Lucky, lucky me.”
“You’re not related to the Three Stooges are you? ‘Cause I could swear this escape scene is one of theirs.” ~ Jim”
“Geez, what do I need to do, use semaphore? I told you I was unclaimed.”
“Someone must have been in a rush to leave this morning," I told the door, trying to tamp down the major case of the willies the silent street was giving me. "Someone was just late for work, and they didn't quite close the door. That's all. There's nothing foreboding in a door that hasn't been shut all the way. There's nothing eerie in that at all. There's nothing creepy about the street...Oh, crap. Hello?”
“And then I said to her, Rachel, you're out of your ever-lovin' mind. There's no way in h-e-double-toothpicks you'd find me hookin' up with a faery, especially one of the unseelie court, no matter how well hung he is. Ya just never know with them, do ya? I hear about a witch in Quebec who crossed one of the unseelie princes, and she ended up with three breasts. Can you imagine what she goes through trying to find a bra that fits?”
“If I thought he had magic fingers, his lips were candidates for the Houdini Hall of Fame.”
“Think of me as Demon: The Next Generation.”
“What, you think that just because we're demons, we don't like to stay current with world events? You think we don't like to be entertained? We're demons, not Nazis!”
“He made a tck noise in the back of his throat. It expressed all sorts of annoyance and impatience, with just a smidgen of an implied eye roll.”
“Are you unwell? You aren't going to vomit on me, are you?"
"That wasn't on my list of planned activities for the afternoon, no, but if you really insist, I suppose I could try for a hairball or something.”
“Now, before you go, you repeat for me what it is you will say if that murdering thief comes to seduce you with his so-handsome face."
"Rene, Drake isn't going to—"
"Chat echaude craint I'eau froide," I dutifully repeated. (It meant "A cat washed with hot water fears cold water," which evidently was the French way of saying once burned, twice shy.)
"You forgot to add the sneer to tell him you are so high above him. That is very important. Ah, well, you are improving.Bonne chance, Aisling. If you need me, call. I will come."
“Thanks," I said to the waitress as she waved toward a table and shoved a small menu in my hands.
"You will please to read the rules. English is on the behind," she said in a heavy French accent.
"Rules? Oh, like the cover charge and stuff? Sure." I flipped' the menu over, and the sane world I so desperately clung to quickly took a nosedive.
G & T IS A NEUTRAL GROUND. PLEASE FOLLOW THE RULES:
1. No summoning minions of any form, persuasion, or origin.
2. No wards are to be drawn within the club, either protective or otherwise.
3. Glamours are strictly prohibited. No exceptions will be allowed.
4. Patrons who squash imps will please scrape up the mess and deposit the remains in the imp bucket.
BEINGS AND ENTITIES WHO DISREGARD THE RULES WILL BE SUMMARILY DEALT WITH BY THE VENEDIGER.
"Ooookay," I said, wondering for the millionth time that day when life would return to my previously scheduled program. I glanced up at the waitress. She was clearly waiting for something. "Er... I agree?"
That was evidently it, because she nodded and headed toward the bar.”
“Well, if it isn't Puff the Magic Dragon”
“He might be a dragon, he might be someone whose name instilled fear in other people, but boy howdy, he sure turned my crank.”
“Ophelia moaned as I patted her cheeks in the approved "vague assistance to woman who has fainted" manner.
"Perdy?" she mumbled, her eyelashes fluttering.
"No, it's just me," I said, looking up when the door opened. "And Drake and Fiat, and Pal and Istvan, and I think that's Renaldo and another one of Fiat's bullies in the hall, although it's a little hard to see with everyone in the way.”
“Two things should have become readily apparent to you by now: First, I'm not the brightest bulb in the pack when it comes to obvious things, and second ... well, it's the same as the first.”
“Jim pushed against my leg to peer inside. "Well, now, there's a sight you don't see every day."
"Voulez-vous cesser de me cracker dessuspendant que vous parlez," I said, my heart pounding wildly.
"There's the spitting-in-my-face saying," Jim said softly to itself.
"J'ai une grenouille dans mon bidet!" I growled.
"And the frogs."
"T'as une tete afaire sauter les plaques d'egouts," I wailed.
"Face like a manhole cover. Can merde be very far behind?"
"Merde!" I bellowed.
"You can say that again," Jim said.”
“Bark, bark," Jim said behind me.
"Jim, what's your problem?" I asked as I reached out to open the glass-fronted door.
"I think perhaps I am the problem," a smooth, silky, extremely sexy voice said behind us.
"Oh, crap," I swore, letting my hand drop.
"You are in France. The correct word ismerde," Rene corrected gently.
“The mouth is a magnificent tool to communicate intimacy – kissing, licking, sucking, nipping – it's screaming, I'm so fucking into you, without saying a word.”
“Зима!.. Крестьянин, торжествуя,
На дровнях обновляет путь;
Его лошадка, снег почуя,
Плетется рысью как-нибудь;
Бразды пушистые взрывая,
Летит кибитка удалая;
Ямщик сидит на облучке
В тулупе, в красном кушаке.
Вот бегает дворовый мальчик,
В салазки жучку посадив,
Себя в коня преобразив;
Шалун уж заморозил пальчик:
Ему и больно и смешно,
А мать грозит ему в окно…”
“Don't hope that events will turn out the way you want, welcome events in whichever way they happen: this is the path to peace.”
“Which is just grief, I guess. I've decided that grief is like a newborn baby. It knocks you for six. It takes over your brain with its incessant cry. It stops you sleeping or eating or functioning, and everyone says, "Hang in there, it gets easier." What they don't say is, "Two years on, you'll think it's got easier, but then, out of the blue, you'll hear a certain tune in the supermarket and start sobbing.”
“What other lost soul has the misfortune to have you as their fairy godfather?”
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