“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.
“How can I tell a story we already know too well? Her name was Africa. His was France. He colonized her, exploited her, silenced her, and even decades after it was supposed to have ended, still acted with a high hand in resolving her affairs in places like Côte d'Ivoire, a name she had been given because of her export products, not her own identity.
Her name was Asia. His was Europe. Her name was silence. His was power. Her name was poverty. His was wealth. Her name was Her, but what was hers? His name was His, and he presumed everything was his, including her, and he thought be could take her without asking and without consequences. It was a very old story, though its outcome had been changing a little in recent decades. And this time around the consequences are shaking a lot of foundations, all of which clearly needed shaking.
Who would ever write a fable as obvious, as heavy-handed as the story we've been given?
His name was privilege, but hers was possibility. His was the same old story, but hers was a new one about the possibility of changing a story that remains unfinished, that includes all of us, that matters so much, that we will watch but also make and tell in the weeks, months, years, decades to come.”
“I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts men from every nation who fear him and do what is right.”
“One day, I wish to find a man like in my
books. He has to be just like in one of my books.
And he has to love me, love me more than anything
in the world. Most important of all, he has
to think I’m beautiful.”
“Lily, I need to tell you something.” Fazire
was going to tell her about Becky’s wish and his
mistake and let her look forward to something, let
her look forward to the incomparable beauty she
was going to be.
Most of all, he had to stop her wish now. He
didn’t want her wasting it on some fool idea. He
wanted it to be special, perfect, to make her world
better like she had made Becky and Will’s and,
But again she didn’t hear him. Her eyes were
bright and they were steady on his.
“He has to be tall, very tall and dark and
broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped.”
Fazire stared. He didn’t even know what
“And he has to be handsome, unbelievably
handsome, impossibly handsome with a strong,
square jaw and powerful cheekbones and tanned
skin and beautiful eyes with lush, thick lashes.
He has to be clever and very wealthy but hardworking.
He has to be virile, fierce, ruthless and
Now she was getting over his head. He didn’t
think there was such a thing as impossibly handsome.
How cheekbones could be powerful,
Fazire didn’t know. He was even thinking he
might have to look up “virile” in the dictionary
Sarah had given him.
“And he has to be hard and cold and maybe a
little bit forbidding, a little bit bad with a broken
heart I have to mend or one encased in ice I have
to melt or better yet… both!”
Fazire thought this was getting a bit ridiculous.
It was the most complicated wish he’d ever
But she wasn’t yet finished.
“We have to go through some trials and tribulations.
Something to test our love, make it strong
and worthy. And… and… he has to be daring and
very masculine. Powerful. People must respect
him, maybe even fear him. Graceful too and lithe,
like a… like a cat! Or a lion. Or something like
She was losing steam and Fazire had to admit
he was grateful for it.
“And he has to be a good lover.” Lily shocked
Fazire by saying. “The best, so good, he could almost
make love to me just by using his eyes.”
Fazire felt himself blush. Perhaps he should
have a look at these books she was reading and
show them to Becky. Lily was a very sharp girl,
sharp as a tack (another one of Sarah’s sayings,
although Fazire couldn’t imagine a tack ever being
as clever as Lily) but she was too young to
be reading about any man making love to her
with his eyes. Fazire had never made love, never
would, genies just didn’t. But he was pretty certain
fourteen year old girls shouldn’t be thinking
Though, he was wrong about that, or at least
Becky would tell him that later.
Then Fazire realised she’d stopped talking.
“Is that it?” he asked.
She thought for a bit, clearly not wanting to
leave anything out.
Then she nodded.”
“To kill deliberately is very wrong,” said Chen Gong. “I would rather betray the world than let the world betray me,” was Cao Cao’s reply. Chen Gong could say nothing.”
“Tell me why. Tell me why you want to do this now.” “Because I don’t want to hurt her. Because I want to make her happy.” These are two of the truest statements that have ever passed my lips. I’ve never meant anything more.”
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