Sometimes he hated that voice in his brain, the one that slapped him upside the head anytime he got too stupid. Funny, it happened a lot with Sienna.

Blood for life. Life for life. Changeling justice.

Mercy laughed. “You have to excuse them—boys suffer from an incurable disability.” “What?” “Testosterone.

Have you ever made her angry?" If the cop said that he and his wife lived in a state of constant connubial bliss, Andrew decided he'd have full cause to throw a punch. Max raised an eyebrow. "Sure, I'm human." He slid the phone into the pocket of his suit pants and rose to his feet with a distinctly amused glint in his eyes. "Making up is the un part, in case you haven't figured that out yet.

You do realize this makes your wings even more unique." "Are you saying you shot me as a cosmetic procedure?

He wanted to give me a blade? What's wrong with that?” “Blades,” he whispered, “and sheaths go together. And your sheath will only ever hold my blade.

Are you?” “What?” “Venomous?” Another savage smile. He touched the tip of one fang with his tongue and when he drew it away, she saw a pearl of golden liquid. “Try me and see.” “Maybe later, after I’ve survived Michaela.