It's a reflex. Hear a bell, get food. See an undead, throw a knife. Same thing, really.

Curran scrutinized Mart’s face. “I can’t figure out if he wants to kill you or screw you.” “I’ll be glad to make the choice for him.” Curran looked back at me. “Why is it you always attract creeps?” “You tell me.” Ha! Walked right into that one, yes, he did.

The idiot had shot their own dog. That’s what happened when the destructive potential of a man’s weapons exceeded his intelligence.

He said, 'Yeah, but will I get chicks? In truckloads?

You’re like a god from a Greek myth, Saiman. You have no empathy. You have no concept of the world beyond your ego. Wanting something gives you an automatic right to obtain it by whatever means necessary with no regard to the damage it may do. I would be careful if I were you. Friends and objects of deities’ desires dropped like flies. In the end the gods always ended up miserable and alone." — Kate Daniels

I sighed and put Slayer between the front seats. "Stay here. Guard the car." Saiman shut the door. "Is the sword sentient?" "No. But I like to pretend it is.

You fellows ever thought of hiring out as a Christmas lights crew? You’d make a fortune.