What did you write on here? ‘Don’t die’?” “No, I wrote, ‘Don’t be an asshole!’”I headed for the house. “On yours or mine?” “On yours.” “Well, in that case, your magic isn’t working. I’m still an asshole.

How did the hearing go?” she asked. “We won, sort of,” Kaldar said. “We die at dawn.” “The court gave the Sheeriles twenty-four hours,” William corrected. “Yes, but ‘we die at dawn the day after tomorrow’ doesn’t sound nearly as dramatic.” “Does it have to be dramatic all the time?” Catherine murmured. “Of course. Everyone has a talent. Yours is crocheting and mine is making melodramatic statements.

We have to get the Diamond. And Cesare’s head.” They looked at me. “Why the head?” Doolittle asked. “Because it’s easy to carry and I can torture it for a long time.” And I didn’t just say it out loud, did I? I checked their faces. Yep, I did.

It a dude and a girl, and the house and wooo scary things happen and then they kill everything.

The rabbis paled. I’d managed to terrify holy men. Maybe I could beat up a nun for an encore.

Had he expected me to hump her leg?

Ted said, "You're working for the Order now." "Yes." "How does it feel?" "Well, Doctor, it feels rather sore and tingly.