He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, the picture of nonchalance, and even as a human, he was too gorgeous for words. His dark hair had been combed back, falling softly around his face, and his mercury eyes, though they should’ve seemed pale against all the white, glimmered more brightly than anything. And they were fixed solely on me.
Rnesh karr slithis,” I hissed back, which was Draconic for eat your own tail, the dragon version of go screw yourself. No extra translation needed.
The spider does not spin its web in a heartbeat, nor does the albatross fly across oceans with a few flaps of its wings. Many would consider what they do impossible, and yet, they still complete their tasks without fail, because they simply... start.
Well, I can answer that,” Jackal said breezily, and bared his fangs in a lethal grin. “He can die. Painfully. After I rip his other arm from the socket and shove it so far down his poetry-spouting piehole that he chokes on it. What I don’t understand is why we’re standing up here yapping away when we should be down there kicking in his door. So, come on, team.” Jackal’s gaze was mocking but dangerous. “Let’s go kill ourselves a psychopath.
Kissing her in the ocean and feeling my entire world stop. Wishing I could be normal, if only to be with her. Because she hadn’t just taught me how to surf and shoot zombies and to scream while plunging down a roller-coaster drop. She had shown me how to live.
Before Kanin Turned me, death was something I faced every day. People died, often; it was just how the world worked. I thought that, after the deaths of my old gang and Stick’s betrayal, I wouldn’t worry about anyone else. And yet, here I was, a vampire, wishing I could have saved the very person who hated me most.
He told me that the tiniest pebble, when dropped into a pond, will leave ripples that will grow and spread in ways we cannot comprehend.
Oh you know, a little burned, a little sore. Nearly died a couple times. The usual.
The future,” she said, her voice echoing over the crowd, “is an ever changing stream. Every choice, every decision we make, sends it down a different path.
Better to feel nothing, to be numb, than to lose control. It’s the only way I know to deal with it.
Relax, oh paranoid one. I doubt there’ll be Talon agents hiding in the potted plants.
I wished I had told her what I was doing. I wished I had said more, argued more. Maybe then I wouldn’t have this hollow ache in my chest whenever I thought of our parting words. Had she already moved on, forgotten me? In her position, what she said made sense, but the thought of her with someone else made me wish I had something to fight, to kill, just so I could forget.
Silly me, here I was thinking we needed big neon signs that said Here We Are, Shoot Us Please on top of the roof.
That same cool, formal tone. Not mocking or vicious, just overly polite, without emotion. My stomach clenched, and words froze to the back of my mouth. I wanted to talk to him, but the coldness in his eyes sliced into me, making me pause. Instead, I simply nodded, and watched my knight turn on his heel and stride toward the tower without looking back.
I couldn’t,” he finally whispered. “You were the one who taught me to live, to take chances. For a while, I convinced myself that we were too different, and that it was better to let you go. But now, I’ve come to the realization that my life is probably going to be very short. And I want to spend it doing something that matters. With someone that matters. I don’t want to regret that I gave up without a fight.
I could see us sitting at the old piano, while he tried to explain how music worked. I could see the Iron glamour in the notes, the strict lines and rigid rules that made up the score, but the music itself was a vortex of song and pure, swirling emotion. They weren’t separate entities, creative magic and Iron glamour. They were one; cold logic and wild emotion, merged together to create something truly beautiful.
Gazing up at the long flight of stairs to the temple, Puck shook his head and sighed. “Stairs.” He grimaced. “I swear there must be like some secret code. All mysterious ancient temples must have a minimum of at least seven thousand steps to the front door.
He didn’t know how to laugh, or smile, or have any fun. He didn’t know the pleasures of the simple things – laughing, dancing, finding beauty in the world. It seemed like a very boring existence.
No one has ever shown you any kindness before, have they?
Surprisingly, it was Jackal who finally smiled and stepped back, raising his hands. “Okay, bloodbag,” he said, looking past me to Zeke. “Fine. I can be civil. For now. Observe.” He made a great show of looking around the chamber. “Nice place you got here. Love what you’ve done with it. If I’d known, I would’ve brought a housewarming gift. A shag rug to go with the lovely piles of garbage.