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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
Difference
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Justice
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Assassination
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Marc didn’t want to win by default. He wanted to win for real. Forever.
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We’re days away from going full scale against Malone, and in the meantime, we’re under fire from above. And I’m about as useful as a three-legged dog.” “You’re much more useful than any kind of dog, mi vida.” Marc purred and pressed me into the counter, his hands on my hips. I couldn’t resist a smile. I was a real sucker for Spanish.
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Harmony glanced to her left, and my gaze followed hers to the living room, where my aunt had died, my cousin had been restored, and I'd whacked a psychotic grim reaper with a cast-iron skillet. Weirdest. Tuesday. Ever.
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We would not have hurt the child, even if she is our natural enemy. Nor would we have hurt you, if it could be helped. Finn was killed by a male cat, and in exchange for that information, we also agreed to try to remove the female cats from your encampment before the true melee begins.” Melee?! Were these ninja birds? Green Berets with feathers?
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Some things are private. Some things needed to be said, even when the person who needed to hear them couldn’t hear anything. Ever again.
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Her dark-eyed glare narrowed on me. You could have least given him a shirt, Kaylee. Like you're an expert on when it's appropriate to wear a shirt. Sabine bristled. This seems headed into girl-fight territory, Tod said. Should I make popcorn?
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Uh, yeah, I do. The scythe was a little tricky at first, but—much like golf—turns out it’s all in the swing.
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Sophie glanced from me to Sabine, then back, scowling. I'm not scared of her. I can handle myself. Yeah, and hissing kittens think they're badass too, Sabine said.
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I’m confiscating your hair dryer—you’ve fried your brain.
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The moment the door opened I knew an ass-kicking was inevitable. Whether I'd be giving it or receiving it was still a bit of a mystery.
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Anyway, I was the one in real danger. I got cornered by a pack of wild sorority girls in the food court. Apparently it's mating season.
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I'm not going to lose you, Kaylee. No matter what I have to do, or whom I have to fight. Even if that means quashing your vexing tendencies toward self-sacrifice. Did you just say 'vexing'? Nash asked. Tod scowled. Nothing else seemed to fit. I stand by my word choice.
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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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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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He went down like a cheerleader after prom.
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Then strong, warm arms wrapped around me from behind. I've got you, Tod whispered in my ear.
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But all I said, as I dug a five from my pocket to pay for my soda, was, You have a friend? Tod scowled. Well, I wouldn't call him a friend according to the traditional definition, but in the sense that he imposes on me constantly and isn't afraid to point out my flaws, I'd say he qualifies. Sounds more like a cousin.
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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 don't want to wear your dad's clothes. He hates me. You'd rather wear mine? Nash scowled.
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Is that a joke? Please tell me you're joking. -Sophie I never joke about carnivorous bunnies. -Luca
Rachel Vincent