“Where her magic falls short, her fists get the job done.”

“Where there is a woman there is magic. If there is a moon falling from her mouth, she is a woman who knows her magic, who can share or not share her powers. A woman with a moon falling from her mouth, roses between her legs and tiaras of Spanish moss, this woman is a consort of the spirits.”

“She looked at the exquisite red carpet beneath her feet. Someone had done a splendid job of getting all the blood out.”

“Her little fists pummeled at him, and he accepted the abuse. Until he realized she’d made an improper fist and was actually hurting herself. He wound an arm around her waist, spun her and slammed her into the hard line of his body to still her.“Let me go!”“In a minute.” As she struggled, he pulled her thumb out from beneath her fingers and rearranged her fist. “Hit like this.” Done, he released her.”

“Her breathing ragged, her body went lax under his. “We’re not done,” he rasped, fisting a hand in her dark, short hair. Law greedily took her mouth as he started to ride her again—deep, hard. So damned hungry, so damned hungry …If she’d had the breath, she might have told him to give her a minute.But even if she had had the breath? He would have stolen it away again.”

“Her free hand was clenched in a fist. I held still, waiting for her to say something, to tell me she should have never left me here, where her friends might look to me for help.Finally she looked at me. Her eyes were hard, but she'd let no tears fall. "This is where we blame those who are responsible, Cooper, she told me, her voice very soft. "The colemongers, and the bought Dogs at Tradesmen's kennel. We'll leave an offering for him with the Black God when all this is done, and we'll occupy ourselves with tearing these colemongers apart. all right? We put grief aside for now.”