I feel safer with my old enemy beside me.

You have not been sticking your dirty fingers in my sauce,’’ Eve said, and pointed her wooden spoon at him. He quickly took the finger out of his mouth. ‘‘First off, they’re not dirty. I licked them first.

Shane settled his flamethrower more comfortably on his shoulders. “Ladies? After you.” “Rude,” Claire said. “I was being polite!” “Not when you have a flamethrower.

Here," Myrnin said, his voice still gentle and low. "Amelie said you had to work. No one said you had to work alone." He picked up the next part and slotted it in, took the screwdriver from Claire's numbed fingers, and fastened it with a couple of deft, fast movements. "I'll be your hands." She wanted to cry, because it was so sweet, but it wouldn't do any good.

Did he just say--?" "Yes," Claire said, smiling. "Yes, he did." "Whoa. Guess I'd better stay alive, then.

And Myrnin seemed quite taken with that, Claire thought; she’d never seen him look at anyone with quite that much admiration. It surprised her that it made her feel a little … what was that? Jealous? Couldn’t be.

When things seem calmest, that is the time you should fear the most, it's when you have the most to lose.