You can work with me—or you can wade through the blood and bodies after I'm done.

I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn't as gracious a hostess as the next gal.

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

That’s hard core, Gin,” Finn replied. “Very hard core. Kind of kinky too.” A grim smile tightened my lips. “That’s me. Gin Blanco. Hard core and kinky to the bitter end.

Gin! Gin, are you here?” “Right behind you,” I said. Finn shrieked and whirled around. I winced at the high-pitched sound. “Dammit, woman.” He clutched the folder to his chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

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.

I'm crazy about you, Spartan.