How are you?" "Perfectly fine," he said. "Are your ribs broken?" "Probably not. Cracked at most. We fought very carefully." "Did this settle anything?" "It made me feel better," he said, sitting up. "Did you see me kick him in the kidneys?" "I saw.

Put your badass face on and follow me.

Curran gave me a flat look. "I can always drive to a burger joint instead." "Oh, so you'd throw a burger down my throat and expect making out in the back seat?" He grinned. "We can do it in the front seat instead, if you prefer. Or on the hood of the car." "I'm not doing it on the hood of the car." "Is that a dare?" Why me?

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.

Living in your dreams meant bitter disappointment when you woke up.

Runes, runes, runes... Runes. An inverted Algiz rune. The caption next to it said “Chernobog.” The Black God. Right. Of course, it wouldn’t be Chernobog, God of Morning Dew on the Rose Petals, but a woman could always hope.

Her face looked like it would shatter any second.