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Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination. No, this is an execution. The difference would be...? Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Well
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Assassination
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Jace. This can't happen. I closed my eyes, thinking it would be easier to say without him looking back at me. But it wasn't. This isn't about us. I can't leave Marc.
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I wanted a do over. A time machine. That magic wand. But real life didn't have any easy outs, and very few happily-ever-afters. The real world was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, with most of the choices ripped out before you even opened the cover.
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So could we please not mob the three-thousand-plus-year-old reaper like tweens at a boy-band concert?
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I held her tighter, just because I could. Because she was fierce, and beautiful, and mind.
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Because in most cases, I believe that people deserve a second chance. And because I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd stood by and let them both die souless, when I could have helped.
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If I love you more than you love me, I’m as good as dead. Yet I can’t make myself take it back. I can’t just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I’m dying inside.
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Come on, Kaylee, before I choke on testosterone and melodrama.
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Meow, Meow, Motherfucker.
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He went down like a cheerleader after prom.
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Kaylee and Nash are like those rocks that ancient cave people used to make fire. Bang them together, and you get sparks. Sabine said. Let's never again use the phrase 'bang them together' in reference to my brother and my girlfriend, Tod mumbled.
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Had I just begged for an audience with Death?
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Wait, Saturday night? The ladder-backed chair creaked and I looked up as he leaned forward to eye me in growing suspicion. I thought you stayed home. I shrugged and raised one eyebrow at him. I thought I was human.
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You don't know me. Don't ever think you know me. The only things you know about me are the things you made me do, and that illustrates your character, not mine.
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His name's Nash. Aunt Val took a butter knife from the silverware drawer. What year is he? I groaned inwardly. Senior. ...here we go ... Her smile was a little too enthusiastic. Well that's wonderful! Of course, what she really meant was Rise from the shadows, social leper, and walk in the bright light of acceptance!
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I’d learned that my mother was a badass in disguise. She was Van Helsing in an apron and heels, and—at least for the time being—I couldn’t think of a single thing cooler than that.
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But my hands are in the right place. Heart, I corrected. Your heart's in the right place. Yeah, but my hands are in an even better place. And so they were.
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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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The problem with getting everything you want in life is that you're not prepared for disappointment when it comes.
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And I met Madeline's necromancer. His name's Luca. A death detector? Tod made a face. That's creepy. It gets weirder. He's dating Sophie. On purpose?
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At least you don’t need a prescription for tequila.
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