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.

Logan Quinn was the kind of guy who could stab me in the eye with a freaking Twizzler.

I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.

Are you coming along peaceful-like, or am I going to have to hog-tie you and put you in the car?

Kiss me or let me go. I don’t care anymore.

That was my favorite dagger." She had a favorite dagger? Seriously? And she thought that I was a freak.

It didn't take long for the anger to put the happiness in a headlock.