Trent, do you have any weapons? Like a gun?โ He looked at me in disgust. โYouโre here to protect me,โ he said as he closed the distance between us and stood beside me. โYou didnโt bring a weapon?โ โYeah, I brought a weapon,โ I snapped as I brought my splat gun out and aimed it at the ceiling where the sounds were coming from. โI just thought that since youโre a freaking murderer you might have a gun, too (...)
Kim HarrisonJenks kept me alive for two years through two death threats, a crazy banshee, and at least two serial killers. Its about time I return the favor! And if I can't, then I can sit by his bed and hold his hand as he dies, 'cause I've had plenty of practice doing that, too!
Kim HarrisonRachel,โ came a raspy voice from the upper level, and both Trent and I turned. It was Quen, wrapped in a blanket as if it was a death shroud, the black-haired intern at his side, supporting him. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat, and I could see him wavering as he stood there. โDonโt touch Trenton,โ he said, his gravelly voice clear in the hush, โor Iโm going to have to come down thereโฆand smack you around.
Kim HarrisonRachel knew what she was doing. And when she didn't, she could improvise on the fly, coming up with options that left a lot of collateral damage but usually only hurt herself, not the people around her. It was one of the things he would never admit that he admired about her.
Kim Harrison