“Now, where were we?” he said. “Oh, yes. We were about to have some honest conversation. Roadkill, are you in love with Hawk?”Roadkill sighed and asked plaintively, “Can’t we just go back to prison?”

“And Talon did not understand – no, strike that, he didn‘t want to understand – why seeing Hawk and Roadkill together gave him a funny ache in the pit of his stomach. Every time he looked at Flit, the ache got worse. He needed to get laid.”

“I stabbed him,” Flit said weakly, clutching at the tattered remains of Talon’s shirt. “With pens,” Talon agreed. “Is he dead?” Flit’s eyes were huge, the pupils blown black, only a sliver of color showing around the edges. He was probably going into shock.“I don’t think so,” Talon said. “It’s pretty hard to die by pen.”

“Definitely not," Talon said. "If you screw up like that, you don't get another chance." "But what if he really loves her and it was a mistake?" "It wasn't," Talon said firmly. "He'd keep his cockadoodle in his pants if he loved her. He wouldn't hurt the person he loved. And she should leave his ass for her own good.”

“Fun. It‘s this crazy thing where people smile and laugh and are generally pleased. I could have sworn I saw you smile at least once”

“Feather‘s sake, you are so fucking annoying, I love you."Warmth blossomed under Flit's skin, like a spark had been lit inside his heart and it had exploded in his chest, messy and wet and wonderful. "You love me?" "It's that or indigestion," Talon replied gruffly. He peppered Flit's forehead and cheeks with kisses.”

“He'd stay if Talon wanted him to, if Talon asked. All Talon had to do was ask”