Iโd been raised to be practical and keep my emotions in check, but I loved cars. That was one of the few legacies Iโd picked up from my mom. She was a mechanic, and some of my best childhood memories were of working in the garage with her.
Richelle MeadOkay, God, I thought. Get me out of this and Iโll stop my half-assed church-going ways. You got me past a pack of Strigoi tonight. I mean, trapping that one between the doors really shouldn't have worked, so clearly you're on board. Let me get out of here, and Iโll...I donโt know. Donate Adrianโs money to the poor. Get baptized. Join a convent. Well, no. Not that last one.
Richelle MeadYou said you were a victim. That's why...that's why ultimately, you and I aren't matched for each other. In spite of everything that's happened, I've never though of myself that way. Being a victim means you're powerless. That you won't take action. Always...always I've done something to fight for myself...for others. No matter what.
Richelle MeadPoor Martin. Geek or no, committing his soul to eternal damnation was a helluva price to pay for six minutes.
Richelle MeadDo not do that again," he said stiffly. "Don't kiss me back then," I retorted. He stared at me for what seemed like forever. "I don't give 'Zen lessons' to hear myself talk. I don't give them because you're another student. I'm doing this to teach you control." "You're doing a great job," I said bitterly.
Richelle MeadRose!" I looked to my right and saw Adrian cutting across the lawn toward me, oblivious to the slush's effects on his designer shoes. "Did you just call me 'Rose'?" I asked. "And not 'little dhampir'? I don't think that's ever happened." "It happens all the time," he countered, catching up to me.
Richelle Mead