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You think I need to be rescued? I think it doesn't hurt to let someone else do the rescuing every now and then, when your own armor starts to get banged up.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Needs
Rescued
Every
Armor
Think
Starts
Thinking
Hurt
Doesn
Else
Someone
Banged
Need
Rescuing

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Standing, I turned to face my father. “It’s the same as the scent on Moore. It’s definitely a foreign cat, but it’s...more, somehow.” Ethan snickered at my unintentional pun, but I ignored him.
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If she were going to die, I'd already be screaming. I'm a female bean sidhe. That's what we do.
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Sneak out. He shrugged, as if that should have been a no-brainer. But that was easy for him to say. He was dead. What else could they do to him, take away his birthday?
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Walking around nude in front of humans was not a good way to keep a low profile with the community. It was an excellent way to make new friends, though.
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She watched me with a creepy sort of detached curiosity, as if I were a bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of her. I wondered briefly if she was the ant stomper type.
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Exactly what part of that is supposed to make me feel better? Though, honestly, hearing that she was jealous of me did make me feel a teeny, tiny bit better.
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Unfortunately, unless the job description included a translation of the prologue of The Canterbury Tales, I was dreadfully under-qualified.
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Did you think you could dump me, and I'd bounce back to her and miraculously be happy? I'm not a Ping-Pong ball. You can't just swat me back and forth and expect me to be content wherever I land. If Tod dumped you tomorrow, would you come back to me?
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I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.
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If you live in the dark long enough, you start to forget what light looks like.
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... you just turned down the woman who put a marshmallow duck in your hot chocolate. I hope you feel like a real asshole now.
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But more than any of that, I was thankful for the possibility he'd shown me: that a man really could love a woman enough that he'd do anything to protect her. That's how much Tod loved Addy. That's how much I wanted Nash to love me.
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So what does Tod look like? Whitewashed skeleton skulking around in a black cape and hood? Carrying a scythe? 'Cause I'm thinking that would cause mass panic in the hospital. ..... Do you chase after a funeral processions in a long, dirty dress, hair trailing behind you in the wind? I shot him a mock frown. Have you been following me again?
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You know, most girls sleep with a teddy bear or an extra pillow. But I gotta say, that's kinda hot.
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It was an addiction. A pointless, self-destructive addiction. But really, is there any other kind?
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Alec rolled beautiful brown eyes. No fair playing the death card. No fair having it to play.
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I should have said something. ... But my mouth wouldn't open, and the longer I stood there in silence, the better I can to understand the problem. It wasn't that I had nothing to say to him. It was that I had too much to say.
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The school sent you flowers. I’m sure that totally makes up for the fact that they hired the psychotic, soul-stealing pedophile who murdered you in your own home.
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I still loved Marc desperately and couldn’t imagine life without him. Jace was…something else. Something I could feel but couldn’t articulate. Something I wanted, and hadn’t been able to resist in my grief-weakened state. He was something that would have to wait.
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I don't want to wear your dad's clothes. He hates me. You'd rather wear mine? Nash scowled.
Rachel Vincent