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.

We can do subtle," I assured her. "It's our middle name," Andrea added. For some odd reason Rene didn't look convinced.

The woman frowned. "I probably should have mentioned that annoying habit of letting people come to the wrong conclusions and not correcting them? He got it from me.

Did 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.

I could have fixed almost everything else, but death defeated me every time.

What would I do without the moral compass of a teenage werewolf.

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