You're late." "Sorry. I was busy talking about my feelings and killing people.

Jasmine smirke at the weapon in my hand. "That little toothpick won't save you, Gypsy." "Touthpick?" Vic muttered in an indignant voice. “Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now!

The panther prowled around me in a loose, wide circle. Its mouth turned down, almost in a pout, and it seemed disappointed that I wasn't going to run away. Or scream, at the very least. Its tail, which was at least three feet long, twitched back and forth in what seemed to be annoyance. Or maybe anticipation. I didn't know. I'd always been more of a dog person. I cleared my throat, and the panther stopped and flicked up one of its rounded ears. Listening. "Um, nice kitty?

I'm a figment of your imagination. You're only imagining that I'm sitting here eating with you. Because I'm just so freaking awesome that people daydream about being seen with me.

The two men eyed each other. Assessing strengths. Looking for weaknesses. Measuring dicks once again

The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.

I did not glow with the thrill of battle. Cringe, yes. Glow, no.