“I don't need protection." Not that she minded, of course. She always protected. It's what she did every moment of the day, and that small span of time when he'd protected her had been, well like a present."Don't need it, no." He gave her the coordinates, and she got moving. "Deservie it, yes.”

“Her rage flopped awkwardly away like a duck. She felt as she had when her cold, fierce parents had at last grown sick and old, stick-boned and saggy, protected by infirmity the way cuteness protected a baby, or should, it should protect a baby, and she had been left with her rage--vestigial, girlhood rage--inappropriate and intact. She would hug her parents good-bye, the gentle, emptied sacks of them, and think Where did you go?”

“I take my time because I love how it feels to carry her, the way she needs me, the way I need to protect her.”

“This softening she sees in me isn't enough to make me affectionate, but it's just enough to render me inept. I can't give her what she wants — virtuousness — or what she needs — protection.”

“ Oberon said from behind the counter.I busied myself making Emily's tea and spoke to him through our link. 'Yes, well, she's decided to take the high road, so I'll be happy to walk it with her as long as she likes.''Nope. She's a witch. A polite witch, but still a witch. She's got a charm on her hair that would have had me giving her anything she wanted if I hadn't been wearing protection. Don't take anything from her, by the way.''Oh yes she does. Emily has probably already told her.''How would you know the difference if she did? You think all sausages are magic.”

“I'm her protection! I don't care if it's in this world or the next. Just show me how to get where she is, and I'll be there for her. ~Stark”