So. You refuse my money, you serve me thirty-year-old Highland Park scotch, and we've been in the same room for approximately five minutes, yet none of my bones are broken. This leads me to believe that your back is against the wall and you desperately need me for something. I'm dying to know what that is.
Ilona AndrewsAcross from me at the next row of supports Jim raised his hand and touched his fingers to his thumb a few times, imitating an opening and closing beak. Negotiate. He wanted me to engage a lunatic who had already turned four people into smoking meat. Okay. I could do that. โAlright, Jeremy!โ I yelled into the night. โGive me the salamander and I wonโt cut your head off!โ Jim put his hand over his face and did some shaking. I thought he was laughing, but I couldnโt be sure.
Ilona AndrewsWhat did you write on here? โDonโt dieโ?โ โNo, I wrote, โDonโt be an asshole!โโI headed for the house. โOn yours or mine?โ โOn yours.โ โWell, in that case, your magic isnโt working. Iโm still an asshole.
Ilona AndrewsDid he just rip out the engine?" I asked. "Yes", Saiman said. "And now he is demolishing the Maserati with it." Ten seconds later Curran hurled the twisted wreck of black and orange that used to be the Maserati into the wall. The first melodic notes of an old song came from the computer. I glanced at Saiman. He shrugged. "It begged for a soundtrack.
Ilona AndrewsBran grabbed my hand,pulled me to a chest, and swung the heavy lid open. A white cloth covered the contents. He jerked it aside. Human heads filled the chest. "Oh God." He scooped a mummified head from the chest by a scalp lock and thrust it at me. "All of them are mine." This was officially the weirdest version of "come down to my place and I'll show you some etchings" I've ever been hit with.
Ilona Andrews