India Drummond

“When I was her age," Munro said to Eilidh, "I was chasing frogs."Oron Chuckled. "When I was your age, I was chasing frogs. Come. We have things to discuss.”

“His mum had loved her ornaments, as she called them, but when she died, his dad waited about a week before boxing them up and giving them to a charity shop. “I loved your mum, Quinton,” he’d said, “but I hate them fuckin’ porcelaincats.”

“Without warning, he felt a familiar tug. Eilidh. If the intensity of the sensation was anything to go by, she was coming back and moving quickly. He had no way of knowing how long she would take, but it made his heart lighter to know he would see her soon.”

“Munro stood in the doorway, watching the two faeries peer into his fridge as thought it was the strangest thing they'd ever seen.”

“Although she had a slight build, Eilidh was solid and heavier than she first appeared. Rather than throw her over his shoulder, he tried to carry her as though propping up a drunken friend. People would accept the latter without question, but a burly guy carrying a woman fireman-style? That might draw second looks.”

“He wouldn't have to search for her long. She was nestled in his thoughts like a pebble in his shoe. His mind pointed toward her as if she were true north.”

“Her tone held a challenge. She did not need his condemnation or what his pity. Once, she had wanted his love, but that time had passed into dust. There was no point wanting things that could never be.”

“Perhaps, more than anything, it occurred to her that maybe she didn't have to spend the rest of eternity alone. One person could know, perhaps. One friend. Maybe. This strange human shed a ray of hope into her life.”

“...but those eyes made him take her very seriously. Beautiful, yes. Delightful and enchanting, definitely. But absolutely dangerous.”

“The pair stood in long silence. Another thing Eilidh missed. Humans rushed everywhere, filled every moment with noise. They lacked the discipline of quiet.”

“Her body poised with the tension of a wild animal, ready to pounce - or to flee. So beautiful, he thought. As he voiced the words, she faded away, and his world returned to blackness.”

“A hard pain it Munro's spine as it lurched into an awkward curve, arching his back off the surface where he lay. Muscles contracted, jerking and releasing, jerking and releasing. The calm voices grew insistent and frenzied, but in a controlled, orchestrated way.”

“In her time in the human city, she'd noticed the police often had that stance, as if making themselves oak-like would deter wrongdoers.”

“Evil smelled like nothing else, worse than a rotting corpse, worse than sewage and disease, more vile than the fumes that billowed from modern machinery, more cloying than the shame of drunken whores.”

“Alexander, I don't know what's going to happen to me either. So what? So we find out together. That's what a relationship is. If it is not working, fix it. If life is hard we learn from each other. You don't run off to keep from inflicting yourself on someone else. If it gets too much for me, I'll say so, but you don't get to decide that for me.”

“All but one of Zoe Pendergraft's friends were dead.”

“The part she hated most in mystery novels was where someone had a key piece of information but didn’t tell anyone. That was always the precise moment that got conked on the head and thrown into a ditch. Obviously she had to tell someone, and quickly.”

“A pang filled her chest at his absence, especially so soon after having decided she loved him. With a shake of her head, she chastised herself for acting like such a girl and got dressed.”

“She hadn’t planned any of this, but her thoughts ran away with her, and she hated how pathetic she must sound. Poor little human needed the big bad angel to rescue her. Yuck.”