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The door swung open and Kate walked in. Her jeans and T-shirt were splattered with blood and she was carrying a severed vampire head. The T-shirt has a smiley face on it.

Ilona Andrews

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Ilona Andrews
Faces
Vampire
Severed
Shirts
Smiley
Door
Swung
Doors
Kate
Blood
Carrying
Head
Shirt
Open
Jeans
Face
Walked

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Perhaps I just wasn't scary enough. Maybe I should invest in some horns or fangs.
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It took a qualified wizard to detect a summoning in progress. It required only a half-literate idiot with a twitch of power and a dim idea of how to use it to attempt one. Before you knew it, a three-headed Slavonic god was wreaking havoc in downtown Atlanta, the skies were raining winged snakes, and SWAT was screaming for more ammo.
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Two years? That's entirely too long. If you want, we can take care of that. After two years it's pure therapy.
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I will devour you. I will lick your bones clean and crush them between my teeth. I will suck the marrow…” “That’s nice,” Kate said. “The shield.
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Juke glanced into her cup before tipping it down to her mouth. Screw you! Now come on, sugar, you know I don't swing that way. Whatever!
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Only poor people are weird. Rich people are eccentric.
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Outside the windows the day was bright: golden sunshine, blue sky, pleasant wind . . . I wanted to punch the happy day in the face, grab it by the hair, and beat it until it told me what the hell it was so happy about.
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Runes, runes, runes... Runes. An inverted Algiz rune. The caption next to it said “Chernobog.” The Black God. Right. Of course, it wouldn’t be Chernobog, God of Morning Dew on the Rose Petals, but a woman could always hope.
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When I'm with him, I can feel myself getting better. It's like he's picking up broken pieces of me and putting me back together, and I don't even know he's doing it. We never talk about it. We don't go to therapy. He just loves me and that's enough.
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There was something very comforting about him, and I was not sure if it was his easy manner or his complete immunity to my scowling.
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I turned to leave and paused before the gap in the ruined wall. One last thing, Your Majesty. I'd like a name I can put into my report, something shorter than typing out 'The Leader of the Southern Shapechanger Faction.' What should I call you? Lord. I rolled my eyes. He shrugged. It's short.
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I'm going to kick you in the head when I get home. Repeatedly.
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