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I should have mixed something stronger than Coke floats.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Floats
Mixed
Stronger
Something
Coke

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I'd just stepped out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end, with no floaties. And drowning was not an option.
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Come on, Kaylee, before I choke on testosterone and melodrama.
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Pain is what I feed from when nothing else will nourish the noxious fury in my heart. It’s what I cling to when everything else—everyone else—slips right between my grasping fingers.
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Suggestions? I asked [...] Marc never took his gaze from the cage. Get the hose.
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Have you and Nash both lost your minds? This is really a very simple concept--one that you taught me! Hellion equals evil. Period! -Kaylee to Tod
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His safety was more important than anything to me. Even if he would never know enough to understand that.
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For those who may not know this, Madeline recruited me specifically to help hunt and take out a serial soul thief- I call him Cap'n Crunch, Luca interrupted, and was rewarded with a roomful of frowns. You know. Because he's a cereal thief?
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Screw this. He’d blown his shot at nice-and-easy, which only left quick-and-brutal—my favorite way to play.
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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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Careful, pot, Tod said. Someone might notice your resemblance to the kettle.
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I could have kissed you months ago, but it wouldn’t have meant anything. I wished for you to see me. And want me. So…did you mean it?” “Yes,” I said, and some unnamed tension inside me eased. “I see you, Tod.
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You already said that, Sabine said, folding the wrapper back from her burger. You said it a lot, actually. Which supports my theory that apologies are basically pointless. They don't fix anything, right? That's why I rarely bother.
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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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If this had ever happened before, it couldn't be happening now. That's what they mean by 'once in a lifetime'.
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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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So,would you say I’m closer to a zombie or a vampire? I gotta know—are my parts going to rot and fall off, or am I forever frozen in youthful perfection?
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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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You think he left a big flashing arrow pointing to a filing cabinet labeled 'Evidence Here!'? He's a Stray, Ethan, not Wile E. Coyote!
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So, we wait until tomorrow night, and when you say the word, I cross over and haul you both out. Right? That's it? With any luck, yes. Luck? We were depending on luck? Nash is so screwed.
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So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure.
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