“If I'm not a murderer," asked Corny, "how come I keep killing people?”

“I'm a powerful being... a wizard," Corny said. "So don't try anything." "Yes," said the little faery, blinking black eyes rapidly. "No. Try nothing.”

“She put a hit on her boyfriend, so it's not like she hasn't murdered someone." "And you know that how?" Sam asks. I'm trying really hard to be honest, but telling the whole thing to Sam seems beyond me. Still, the fragments sound ridiculous on their own. "She said so. In the park." He rolls his eyes. "Because the two of you were so friendly." "I guess she mistook me for someone else." I sound so much like Philip that it scares me. I can hear the menace in my tone. "Who?" Sam asks, not flinching. I force my voice back to normal. "Uh, the person who killed him.”

“So, what did you think of the Unseelie Court?"A slow, wicked smile spread on his face. "Oh, Kaye," he breathed. "It was marvelous. It was perfect."She narrowed her gaze. "I was joking. They were killing things, Corny. For fun. Things like us."He didn't seem to hear her, his eyes looking past her to the bright window. "There was this knight, not yours. He ... " Corny shivered and seemed to abruptly change the direction of his sentence. "He had a cloak all lined with thorns.""I saw him talking to the Queen," Kaye said.Corny shrugged off his jacket. There were long scratches along his arms."What happened to you?"Corny's smile widened, but his gaze was locked in some memory. He shifted it back to her. "Well, obviously I got inside the cloak."She snorted. "What a euphemism.”

“It's starting to sink in," Corny said. "I can almost look at you without wanting to bang my head against the wall.”

“The funny thing about good people—people like Daneca—is that they really honestly don’t get the impulse toward evil. They have an incredibly hard time reconciling with the idea that a person who makes them smile can still be capable of terrible things. Which is why, although she’s accusing me of being a murderer, she seems more annoyed than actually worried about getting murdered. Daneca seems to persist in a belief that if I would just listen and understand how bad my bad choices are, I’d stop making them.”

“Pet the cat dude," says Sam. "She brought you a present. She wants you to tell her how badass she is." "You are a tiny tiny killing machine." Daneca coos. "What's she doing?" I ask. "Purring!" says Daneca. She sounds delighted. "Good kitty. Who's an amazing killing machine? That's right. You are! You are a brutal brutal tiny lion! Yes, you are.”