Victor smiled through the pain and the blood. "Of course you have. I used to think Belikov was the savage one, but it's really you, isn't it? You're the animal with no control, no higher reasoning except to fight and kill.
Richelle MeadNow get some clothes on before the women around here are driven into a frenzy." He gave me a mournful look. "I'm afraid that'll happen with or without clothes, my dear.
Richelle MeadLook who's calling the cauldron black." "Kettle. Itโs a kettle. Get your metaphors right." "That wasnโt a metaphor. It was a, you know..." He stared off into space, blinking. "One of those things thatโs symbolic of another thing. But isnโt the same thing. Just like it." "You mean a metaphor?" "No! Itโs like a story...like...a proverb! Thatโs it." "Iโm pretty sure that wasnโt a proverb. Maybe it was an analogy." "I donโt think so.
Richelle Mead