“If you shoot, I will kill her before I die."Yes," Kitai said in a patient tone. "Which is why I have not shot you. Yet.”
“We are not going to die." Butters stared up at me, pale, his eyes terrified. "We're not?" "No. And do you know why?" He shook his head. "Because Thomas is too pretty to die. And because I'm too stubborn to die." I hauled on the shirt even harder. "And most of all because tomorrow is Oktoberfest, Butters, and polka will never die.”
“Everyone dies, honey," I said, very quietly. "Everyone. There's no 'if.' There's only 'when.'" I let that sink in for a moment. "When you die, do you want to feel ashamed of what you've done with your life? Feel ashamed of what your life meant?”
“Wait. You don't understand. I just wanted it to stop. Wanted the hurting to stop."I smoothed a bloodied lock of hair from her eyes and felt very tired as I said, "The only people who never hurt are dead."The light died out of her eyes, her breath slowing. She whispered, barely audible, "I don't understand."I answered, "I don't either."A tear slid from her eye and mixed with the blood.Then she died.”
“When you do something stupid and die, it's pathetic,” I said. “When you do something stupid and survive it, then you get to call it impressive or heroic.”
“Thomas grunted. "Might have been smarter for them to have left you alone. Now you know something."I made an exasperated sound. "Yes. Those fools. By trying to kill me, they've revealed their very souls. I have them now."Thomas gave me a steady look. "Being Mab's bitch has made you a pessimist.""I am not a pessimist," I said loftily. "Though that can't last."That made Thomas grin. "Nice.""Thank you.”