And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.

What did you expect? That he'd send you flowers and write you bad poetry? That dead Nemean prowler is pretty much as close to a stuffed animal as you're ever going to get from a Spartan like Logan Quinn.

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

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

I pulled the trigger twice, cutting off his protests, and Finn joined my lover on the floor.

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.

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.