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!

I hate to say this, but not everyone seems happy that you’re still alive,” Finn said, picking up on the glares coming my way. “You can’t please everyone,” I drawled. “And you know how much I hate to disappoint our dear friends in the underworld.

There's nothing I can do that's going to drive you away, is there?" I murmured. Owen flashed me a sly grin. "Finally figuring that out, are you? I nodded. His grin deepened. "Well, it sure took you long enough.

Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said. “This was a Fiona Fine original.

Too bad the smile was on the face of the wrong man.

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

Just another part of that Spartan killer instinct. I can slay the ladies just as well as I can reapers.