Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason I made them feel safe and they gravitated to me like iron shavings to a magnet. They ruined my ferocious badass image, but you'd have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies.

Secret to what?" "Secret to shutting you up," he said. "I just have to beat you till you're half-dead, then give you chicken soup and"--he raised his hands--"blessed silence.

One day I'll kill him, you know. I glanced at her. She was deadly serious.

Big bad merc, down with a basic hip toss. In your place I'd be blushing.

Does Curran not involve you in his strategic sessions?” Ghastek asked. “Nope, I’m just here to look pretty.

Who is that?” “Your replacement.” “You replaced me with a shaved poodle?” “He's got mad skills.

It was one of those idiotic things that could've been resolved in a split second. Tara had no right to touch Raphael, and once she did he had every right to punch her. She should've left it at that, and now she was dead because she didn't.