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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.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
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Justice is for the victim.” Kick. “Vengeance is for the survivor.
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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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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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It was an addiction. A pointless, self-destructive addiction. But really, is there any other kind?
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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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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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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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His safety was more important than anything to me. Even if he would never know enough to understand that.
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10:38 AM - Third period. Kaylee has no class this period. I have no one to kill. Coincidence, or fate?
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If you live in the dark long enough, you start to forget what light looks like.
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Maybe I won't look so bad when you're not standing next to me.
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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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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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At least you don’t need a prescription for tequila.
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But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.
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I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.
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I liked that about her. I liked how laid back she was, when she wasn’t trying to stab me.
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As a matter of fact, I was going to offer you something.” “What did you have in mind?” A field trip. You interested in doing something dangerous, and possibly illegal?” “Does it involve underage girls, broken curfews and assorted fruit toppings?
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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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