Lilith Saintcrow

“When a Were moves in like that it means they're offering support. Cat and canine weres are very touch-feely and bird Were have a whole elaborate protocol for brush ad flutter. Snake Weres like to get right up into your aura and breather in your face, all but rubbing noses like Eskimos. And let's not even talk about Werespiders. I shivered.”

“Someday, Dante, I will discover how your mind works”

“I have set you as a seal upon my heart; I will not return to Hell.”

“Sometimes you can pick who buys you, and for how much. That's what power really is.”

“His thumb stroked my cheek. My eyes half-closed. When he spoke next, it was very softly, his voice an almost-physical caress against my whole body. My flesh tightened like a harpstring. I swallowed hard against the wave of liquid heat. "How can I possibly be jealous when I know you spent your time grieving for me, Dante?”

“He opened his arm as I slid next to him. I settled against his side, letting out another deep sigh as his familiar heat and aura closed over me. I laid my head on his shoulder and was rewarded with the pressure of his cheek against the top of my head, a subtle caress. I shut my eyes. It seemed they were leaking again. I had thought I was done with crying. "I thought you were dead," I said for the hundredth time. "I keep thinking you'll vanish, and I'll wake up." "I told you, while you live, I live." He sounded calmer now, the tension leaving him. He settled back into the seat, and I leaned into him, grateful. "I would not abandon you, Dante.”

“I turned my face into Japhrimel's shoulder. "You're going to disappear," I said into his coat, not even caring that I knew what it was made of. "Just stay for a moment, just please just for a minute, a second—""Dante." His fingers came up, tangled in my already-tangled hair. "I heard you calling me. I tried to answer.""Just for a few seconds." I buried my face in his coat, his other arm closed around me. I inhaled the smell of cinnamon, of amber musk, the deadly smoky nonphysical fragrance of demons. Filled my lungs with the breath of life. "Before I have to burn this whole fucking place down.""Be still," he answered. "I am here, I have never left your side. I told you, you will not leave me towander the earth alone.”

“His smell—the scent of a demon, cinnamon incense, amber musk—wrapped around me, filled my lungs. I felt like I could breathe again, without every breath being tainted by the stench of dying cells. The smell of him seemed to coat my abused insides with peace, and flow down into the middle of my body to spread through my veins. I filled my lungs again. While I could, before what was undoubtedly a hallucination vanished.”

“His dark eyes met mine, just the same. A lean, saturnine face, his cheekbones balanced, his mouth a straight unforgiving line. The demon Tierce Japhrimel touched my cheek, his knuckles brushing my skin. The contact sent a shudder through me, my body recognizing him before the rest of me could dare to. "You burned," I managed, before another fit of retching and gagging shook me. "You burned—you wereash —""While you live, I live." The corners of his mouth turned down, an expressive movement that managed to give the impression of a grim smile. "I suppose nobody told you." I shook my head weakly.”

“It was stealing her breath, imbecile. Go get a towel." -Christophe, Strange Angels by Lili St. Crow”

“There was a hole inside her, and it twisted.”

“It could have been possible to put a little more fuck you into his tone, but some of it might've slopped out the sides.”

“Oh, dear me." Nathalie sank back down in the chair and examined her Uggs. "The sarcasm could've started dripping off her and stained the floor. "Is it conspiracy, treachery, murder, or open warfare? I'll have to choose my lipstick accordingly.”

“Lucas went even paler. “Then you’re on the track to suicide,” he whispered. “Take my advice, Valentine. Run. Run as fast as you can, for as long as you can. Steal whatever bit of life you can. You’re already dead.”

“Oh God, Oh God we’re all gonna die doesn’t really fit the definition of banter, now does it?”

“—leave me," Japhrimel snarled. "You will not leave me to wander the earth alone—breathe, damn you, breathe!”

“It's not the type of work you can put on a business card.I sometimes play the game with myself, though. What would I put on a business card?Jill Kismet, Exorcist. Maybe on a nice heavy cream-colored card stock, with a good font. Not pretentious, just something tasteful. Garamond, maybe, or Book Antiqua. In bold. Or one of those old-fashioned fonts, but no frilly Edwardian script. Of course, there's slogans to be taken into account. Jill Kismet, Dealer in Dark Things. Spiritual Exterminator. Slayer of Hell's Minions.”

“He stared at her face as if he wanted to peel it off andtake it home with him.What a gruesome thought, Rowan.”

“God and Hell both damn it,”

“The only one," he murmured. His chin dipped a little bit. "You know that, Dru? You're the only person who's ever believed in me. You know what that'll do to a guy?"What?"I-""It makes him want to live up to it.”

“Blue eyes glittered. A shock of golden hair - gone. The dust in the air swirled, coalesced into a thorn-twisted Shaman tattoo.”

“Some days, a killing spree seems like a good idea.”

“God, was I going to have another day of painful thoughts jumping me every time I relaxed? The obvious solution—to just not relax—was kind of sucking.”

“I wondered what I’d end up looking like once I bloomed. I couldn’t even guess. If I had to be stuck in my own skinny, gawky, coltish body forever… well. It probably wouldn’t be so bad.I wouldn’t mind a little more in the chest, though. But wild horses wouldn’t drag that out of me. Ever.”

“It’s easy to get rid of people, Christophe. All you have to do is rely on them.”

“The end of a gun looks very big and very back when it's staring you in the face.”

“Christophe, with the careful tone of an adult telling a kid not to pet the nice foaming-rabid pooch.”

“And you know, I believed him.What girl wouldn't?”

“He'd pulled back a little, just with his lower half, and I was afraid the scorch in my cheeks would set fire to the rest of me, because I an idea why.Wow. Oh wow.”

“I should start charging uncomfortable thoughts rent. Except what would they pay me in? Probably something even worse.”

“Go fuck yourself. Or get spayed. Either would an improvement.”

“So you're a dom, huh? Nice." I stabbed my pancakes again. "Kinky.""You're the one who ties people up, babe.”

“You can't ever stop thinking something quick enough. Something that hurts always gets the knife in too fast for you to slam a lid on it and shove it away.”

“I'd kind of expected that kids who knew about the Real World wouldn't act like jock dipwads. Guess I was wrong.”

“But when the blood is mine, it can send the boy djamphir a little crazy. It's something about me being svetocha. Super-happy stuff in my blood even before I "bloom," something that reaches down and wakes up the crazy in anyone with a touch of nosferat.After the blooming hit, I'd have my own superhuman strength and speed. And that super-happy stuff in my blood would make me toxic to suckers just like Raid is toxic to insects.”

“Oh, the testosterone. You could have cut it with a cafeteria spoon.”

“His eyes were green chips of flame, and the growl was so thick it blurred the air around him, the sound of a very pissed off skinchanger.”

“I don't even have moderately big breasticles. They just look like - well, nevermind what they look like. At least they stay strapped down when I worm into a sports bra.”

“Are you listening, little bird?”

“You're my friend, Danny. You understand? There's no debt between friends."Maybe it's just that the debt gets so high you stop counting it.”

“His shoulder bumped mine again. "Can I ask you something?"I didn't answer. He was going to ask me anyway. People don't say that if they don't want to pry something out of you.”

“Boys always get the best eyelashes; it's like some kind of cosmic law. And half-breed kids get some kind of extra help there from genetics, too.”

“His eyebrows drew together. He was perilously close to unibrow; I guess nobody had held him down and administered a good plucking to the caterpillar climbing across his forehead.”

“I went to the entrance to the restroom, where the hallway did a sharp bend so nobody could peek into the girls' pee-palace.”

“It was the same old crap-someone thinking they can push you around because you're young, because you're helpless. You had to just sit there and take it because you were under a certain number, because you weren't a real person yet; you could be picked up and dropped like a toy, left behind or thrown away-”

“I thought I'd pay you a visit, my dear. Since you're so interesting."My mouth shifted into high gear, leaving my brain behind. "You know, you're the second guy in a few days to call me that. You should be more creative.”

“And now here he was in my kitchen. Smelling like apple pies and looking at me with a direct seriousness that made him even cuter. The bruising spreading up the side of his face had halted, and under it he was very pretty. Not jock-pretty, or the hurtful kind of pretty that tells you a guy is too busy taking care of his royal self to think about you.”

“The smell of apple pies didn't quite fill the house, but it was there, a thread under everything else. It was kind of hard to take Christophe seriously when he smelled like baked goods. I wondered if other djampjir smelled like Hostess Twinkies and sniggered to myself.”

“Would I be as strong as that once I did that thing Christophe was talking about? Blooming? Would I smell like a bakery item? Or was that just him? Did he use pie filling for cologne?”

“Really, I scolded myself, you should have known that you'd end up in a stone dungeon with no facilities. That's how these things always end up, isn't it?”