Should I be insulted that you’re so eager to enjoy another man’s pork?” I leaned out of the bathroom, toothbrush mid-swipe, and grinned. “Ethan Sullivan, did you just make a joke?” He hadn’t, at least from the look on his face. But I wasn’t threatened by the possessiveness in his eyes. Because bacon.
Be grateful for your immorality, but do not deny them the honor of their mortality.
My first few weeks as a vampire had been inordinately busy. Like The Young and the Restless, but with slightly dead people.
I lightly grasped the edges of my shirt and dropped into a neat curtsy, batting my eyes coquettishly. “Thank you, Liege,” I said, Gratefully Condescending. “You’re still not in Cadogan attire, you know.” I frowned, awash in the disheartening realization that I’d tried again, and failed, at playing Cadogan vampire. Was I ever going to be able to be good enough for Ethan? I doubted it, but faked a smile and cheekily offered, “You should have seen what I was going to wear.” Ethan rolled his eyes.
I never start trouble,” I assured him. It just usually seemed to pop up in my vicinity.
He was smiling – a kind of honest, humbled, sweet smile. “Maybe I’m getting better at this?” he asked. “Better at wooing you in the manner in which you should be wooed?
My smart and kind and beautiful girl.” He liked to say that, had been saying it for years, and had always put “beautiful” last. Whether it was true or not, he’d tell me it was the least important of the three. “You are smart,” he’d say. “You should be kind. And if you are, you’ll always be beautiful.
I strongly recommend the therapeutic application of fuzzy-chested vampire to grief. It works miracles.” “I am sincerely glad to hear that. But if you keep talking, I will poke your eyes out with a toothpick.
Fear doesn’t stop a warrior. It pushes you further.
Courage has nothing to do with winning,” I quietly said. “Courage is about fighting the good fight. Stepping forward, even when stepping forward is the crappiest of all possible options.
They blew out a breath and did the thing all heroes must do – they took that terrifying first step.
Getting sliced up by a Jimmy Choo knockoff hadn’t exactly been my finest moment as Cadogan Sentinel.
It was so easy to have opinions, and so much harder to actually do things.
Because we fear a zombie apocalypse? And we hope they’re color-blind?
Would you put it past Darth Sullivan to figure out a way to haunt you postmortem? He’s probably holding staff meetings in the afterworld. Offering up performance evaluations. Issuing dictates.
I’m still alive,” Gabriel pointed out. “Nick is also still alive, as is Merit. Everybody wave.
If you use the word ‘halt,’ I will hit you.” “Not halt,” he breathlessly said. “Upstairs. Now.
Opportunities to wear denim to the office don’t come along very often in Cadogan House.” Ethan chuckled, then pushed off the bureau and pulled a black suit coat from a valet stand. “I hear the Master can be such a pain in the ass.” He definitely had his moments.
Ethan groaned. “To business already, Sentinel? So much for, ‘Good morning, Liege. I love you, Liege.’” He managed a remarkably bad imitation of my voice, then feigned sweeping hair over his shoulder. “I don’t do that.” “You do,” he said, grinning. “But my larger point still stands.” I rolled my eyes but sat up, sheet strategically around my breasts, and smiled at him. “Good morning, Liege,” I said in a husky voice. “I love you, Liege.” “That’s more like it,” he said.
I love you, Ethan, and I love this city. And however much I fought, I love this goddamn House. It’s part of me, and I’m part of it. I’m not going to stand here and watch a man tear down everything that you’ve build. I’m not. And if that means I have to chase another man who threatens this House, or apologize to you more than I like, so be it. I don’t want that, but I can live with it. Because I can’t live without you.