“His attitude, though always bad, has changed since he helped me prep the Pandora charm for Morgan. He thinks I'm falling for her, as ridiculous as that sounds, and he might be tempted to take matters into his hands.”
“The want for that kiss had shocked him more than the interruption, and he fell back into the chair, cool and nonchalant as Quen came in with his questions and demands. He wasn't sure if he believed he'd really helped, but one thing was very clear. He wanted that again, that feeling of standing with her against all odds and succeeding. He wanted it so bad, he was going to risk destroying everything he and his father had worked for. He should walk away. Right now. But as she was ushered out the door under David's arm, all he wanted to do was follow her. What the hell was he doing, falling in love with a demon?”
“I sniffed, wiping my eyes. “Look at that,” I muttered. “The bastardmade me cry.”Jenks’ wings made a cool spot on my neck. “Want me to pixy him?”“No. But now I don’t have the chance of a ghost’s fart in a windstormto get that Pandora charm.” That’s not really what was bothering me,though. It was Trent. Why did I even care what he thought?”
“He wanted that again, that feeling of standing with her against all odds and succeeding. He wanted it so bad, he was going to risk destroying everything he and his father had worked for.”
“You need me, just whistle," he said as he arranged his ball cap over his eyes against the sun leaking through the frost-emptied branches."You're not coming?"Lifting the brim of his cap, he eyed me, "You want me to?" he asked blandly."Not really, no."He dropped the brim and laced his hands over his middle. "Then why are you bitching? It's a crime scene, not a grocery store.”
“Al's red eyes slid past me to Pierce. "Play?" he said, his voice dripping with interest. "Gordian Nathaniel Pierce's quirks are legendary. Why do you think I want the runt so badly? Size truly doesn't matter if you can do what he can." ~ Algaliarept, Black Magic Sanction, Kim Harrison”
“Trent was positively smug. Showing me his back, he rifled through a rack of earth charms and watched his hair shift color. “And whereas I might otherwise object—” “Bairn did the investigation on your parents’ deaths,” I interrupted, thoughts scrambling. “And my dad’s.” Bairn is supposed to be dead. Why is he across the road pretending to be a kind old man named Keasley? And how did Trent know who he was? His hair now an authoritative gray, Trent frowned. “And whereas I might otherwise object,” he tried again, “Quen assures me that between Bairn and two pixies—” “Two!” I blurted. “Jih took a husband?”“Damn it, Rachel, will you shut up!”