Just stay close to us. If we get in trouble, we'll kill everything.

As he passed me, he leaned to Curran and handed him a paper fan folded from some sort of flyer. Curran looked at the fan. “What?” "An emergency precaution, Your Majesty. In case the lady faints.” Curran just stared at him. Raphael strode toward the Pit, turned, flexed a bit, and winked at me. "Give me that,” I told Curran. “I need to fan myself.” "No, you don’t.

Oh my God, she was retarded and I was going to kill Jim.

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.

Somewhere in that database my name sat in its own little niche, the name of a reject, undisciplined and worthless. Just the way I liked it.

The first magic wave kicked the world in the face.

Who is Hunter Becker?" "Becker the Gory? Lighthouse Keepers? Boston?" "I would've preferred Becker the Easiley Surrendering or Becker the Quite Reasonable, but beyond that his name tells me nothing.