I'm more worried about you," she said. "You and trouble..." "yeah." She heard the smile in his voice. "We're like that.

If you ask me if I’m imagining it again, I’m going to punch you out, Dead Man Walking.” Michael raised his eyebrows and glanced at Eve. “He doesn’t sound crazy.” “Er,” she clarified, “crazier. He sounds like he’s back to normal, which is baseline crazy.

She smacked him so hard his momma felt it.

He sounded harassed more than anything else, like mass home invasion was just something standing between him and morning coffee.

See?" he said, with an unholy amount of glee. "I hardly broke any laws at all. I should drive more often." "No. Trust me, you shouldn't," Eve said. "Think of all the little old people and the children.

Is this your bedroom?" she asked, and turned to look at him. Myrnin straightened and jammed the big red floppy hat back on his head. The feathers waved back and forth. "Don't get any ideas," he said. "I'm far too young and innocent for that kind of thinking.

I never meant it," he was saying. "Never meant it to happen. Can't stand it, seeing her suffer. Must do something, do something... What do I do? What can I do...?