You would have made a fine warrior, you know that?" I am one. Death is my enemy." Yeah, it is, isn't it." God, it made such sense that he'd bonded with her. She was a fighter… like him. "Your scalpel's your dagger." Yup.

Time to the face the music.

The trainee knew he should leave, but he was unable to look away. He'd never seen anything snap out so fast or strike so hard as the male's fists. Obviously, the rumours about the instructor were all true. He was a flat-out killer. With a metal clank, a door opened at the other end of the gym, and the sound of a newborn's cries echoed up into the high ceiling. The warrior stopped in midpunch and wheeled around as a lovely female carrying young in a pink blanket came over to him. His face softened, positively melted.

How can something so . . . huge happen so fast?

God, he was probably too young to be this old, but life had a way of being about experience, rather than calendar days.

Do you think I haven't noticed? You can't wait to be free of me. I drink and then you bolt up, as if you've had to force yourself to endure my presence." She'd started to sob then. "I've always tried to be clean when I come to you. I spend hours in the tub, washing myself. But I cannot find the dirt that you see." -Marissa to Wrath

You so need to lighten up about that potato-launcher incident," Butch said. Phury rolled his eyes and eased back in the banquette. "You broke my window." "Of course we did. V and I were aiming for it." "Twice." "Thus proving that he and I are outstanding marksmen.