If she were going to die, I'd already be screaming. I'm a female bean sidhe. That's what we do.

What took you so long?” Nash asked, as he slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed. “I stopped to donate all your underwear to the homeless. You’re gonna wanna take care of those tighty whities—they’re all you’ve got left.” He leaned against the door, either too tired or too drunk to sit up. “And to think, most people don’t understand your sense of humor.” “Fools, all of them.

I got swirling eyes and the capacity to shatter windows with my bare voice. Tod got teleportation and invisibility. The supernatural world is so far from fair.

His safety was more important than anything to me. Even if he would never know enough to understand that.

So don't. Come hang out with me at work. We can play naughty dress up with the hospital gowns and rearrange the supply closets.

Justice is for the victim.” Kick. “Vengeance is for the survivor.

"I signed on for the role of ‘boyfriend,’ not ‘conscience.’ If you want wholesome and ethical, you’ll have to look elsewhere. But I promise that won’t be half as much fun as this is…" His hand slid down my side and over my hip, and my heart beat faster.