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I was fine with that. The very idea of Death knowing my name made my skin crawl. Even if this particular Death was only one of many, and almost too pretty to look at.
Rachel Vincent
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Rachel Vincent
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This would be so much easier if they actually issued black hoods.
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I don't have you, and without you, it feels like what I do have doesn't matter.
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Now if you’ll excuse me, Death waits for no man. Except me.
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Had I just begged for an audience with Death?
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Even before the withdrawal sets in, you'll do anything to get that feeling back, because as long as it lasts, nothing's wrong. It doesn't matter if you forget something, or lose something. Or if you fail someone. Nothing's wrong and everything feels good, and you never want it to end.
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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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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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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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When he finally stopped calling, the hush felt strange. It felt like the whole world went silent when Marc did, as if I could see peoples mouths moving, but I couldnt hear what they were saying. Like I'd gone deaf.
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I fell into that kiss like Alice into Wonderland, headfirst and flailing, heart pounding the whole time. The world spun around me and still I fell, and I only crashed down to earth again when someone called my name.
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Meow, Meow, Motherfucker.
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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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