You know," she said, stirring her tea, "the fastest way to get him off your back is to sleep with him. And tell him you love him. Preferably while in bed." I smirked and the tea almost came out of my nose. "He'd run like he was on fire.

You said sloppy! Look, I didn't even use my sword; I hit him with my head, like a moron.

I almost had her." Curran nodded. "I heard. And you could've taken her, too." My voice came out flat. "Rub it in, why don't you." He grinned. "No time for that now, maybe later." I closed my eyes. There wouldn't be any later. "Are you imagining me rubbing it in?" he asked.

He caressed my cheek. "You came for me," I whispered. "Always," he told me.

Why couldn't she have gotten another Edger or some dimwit from the Broken for a passenger? No, she got Lord Leather Pants here.

Judging by the hard lines of his face and the flat look in his eyes, he'd left the Marines, but the Corps hadn't quite left him.

Humans tend to segregate the world: enemies on one side, friends on the other. Friends are the people we know. Enemies are the Other. You can do just about anything to the Other. It doesn't matter if this Other is actually guilty of any crimes, because it is a matter of emotion, not logic. You see angry people aren't interested in justice, they just want an excuse to vent their rage.