She doesn't even know how to kill things properlike? What kind of girl have you given me to, goddess?" Vic protested, fixing his eye on Nike once more. Nike let out a laugh. " Vic is a little bloodthirsty. You'll get used to it.

Art should look like art, trees and flowers and people, not weird shapes and splotches of color all smeared together.

I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.

Burn, baby, burn,” she muttered in a hard, satisfied voice. I cleared my throat. “As much as I hate to interrupt the supreme satisfaction you’re taking in watching the mansion blaze to the ground, I’d really like to get out of here before the whole house collapses on top of us.

Two students severely injured, you yourself covered in blood, a Reaper on the premises, a Fenrir wolf running around loose somewhere, and extensive property damage to the resort. Well?" Nickamedes snapped. "What do you have to say for yourself, Gwendolyn?" I thought for a second, then grinned at him. "I followed your directions exactly. I never set one foot outside the hotel.

Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.” “Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows. There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked upside the head. Then another voice let out a low mutter. “Shut up, idiot.

Instead, I cut him. Not deep, but there was enough of a sting in the wound to remind him of what I'd done to the dwarven mobsters in the parking lot - and that I wasn't just some chick with a knife who looked good in black.