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Next to me, Saiman smiled. We all want what we can't have, Kate. I want you, you want love, and he wants to break my neck.
Ilona Andrews
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Ilona Andrews
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More quotes by Ilona Andrews
The dark scary servant of all evil was on his way to rescue me. Somehow that thought failed to make me warm and fuzzy.
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The Order of Merciful Aid provided merciful aid, usually on the edge of a blade or the burn of a bullet.
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I chuckled to myself and kept walking. The Universe had proven Curran wrong: a person who aggravated him more than me did, in fact, exist.
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The rabbis paled. I’d managed to terrify holy men. Maybe I could beat up a nun for an encore.
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I flexed my wrist, popped a silver needle into my palm, and offered it to him. 'What's this?' 'A needle.' 'What should I do with it?' He'd walked right into it. Too easy. 'Please use it to pop your head. It's obscuring my view of the room.' - Kate & Saiman
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I want to punish them. I want that punishment to be so hard, so vicious that the next who takes their place wets himself at the mere thought of trying to fight me.
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I dived for it, caught it three inches above the cement, and found myself face-to-face with the salamander. Ruby-red eyes regarded me with mild curiosity, black lips parted, and a long, spiderweb-thin filament of a tongue slithered from the salamander’s mouth and kissed the sphere’s glass in the reflection of my nose. Hi, I love you, too.
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He bared his teeth in a happy feral grin. My own personal psycho.
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What would I do without the moral compass of a teenage werewolf.
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He caressed my cheek. You came for me, I whispered. Always, he told me.
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I glanced at Derek. The boy wonder didn't melt into a pile of goo, although his gaze was glued to Rowena's chest. Avoiding eye contact. Good strategy.
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The lion has to stay outside He won't like it The lion shook his mane. I looked at Curran. The lion melted. Skin stretched, bones twisted, and human Curran straightened. He was completely nude. Gloriously nude. Well, Hrefna said. I always wondered why you went all shapeshifter. Explain things.
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It was one of those idiotic things that could've been resolved in a split second. Tara had no right to touch Raphael, and once she did he had every right to punch her. She should've left it at that, and now she was dead because she didn't.
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Andrea raised her hand. “This is the hand that slapped Aunt B.” “Maybe you should have it gold-plated.” “Here, you can touch it, since you’re my best friend.
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She can tell you the height of the attacker from the trigonometry of the blood spatter, while I'm fuzzy on what trigonometry is.
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