Curran looked back at me. "Why is it you always attract creeps?" "You tell me." Ha! Walked right into that one, yes, he did.

A girl half my age swept by and slammed two giant tankard filled with beer on the table. Ragnvald held his up. I smashed my tankard against his. Beer splashed. We raised the tankard and pretended to take much bigger gulps than we did.

A massive beast dashed along the mountain apex. Astamur reached for his rifle. “A demon?” “No, not a demon.” I might have preferred one . “That’s my boyfriend.” Atsany and the shepherd turned to look at me. “Boyfriend?” Astamur said. Curran saw us. He paused on a stone crag and roared. The raw declaration of strength cracked through the mountains, rolling down the cliffs like a rockslide. “Yep. Don’t worry. He’s harmless.

A pissy werelion was rather difficult to live with.

Julie was an issue riding on an issue and using a third issue for a whip.

I'm investigating people who sacrifice trained killers to dark gods. Perfect, it will keep him occupied. In what capacity? Bait.

It’s never a good thing when the black volhv says “Uh-oh” and then runs for his life.