I fought against her, trying to mount some kind of defense, but it was like fighting Dimitri on crack.
I'm really not good with impulse control.
The training part," I guessed. "Yup. You're going to be Dimitri's partner." A moment of funny silence fell, probably not noticeable to anyone except Dimitri and me. Our eyes met. "Guarding partner," Dimitri clarified unnecessarily, like maybe he too had been thinking of other kinds of partners.
The other problem in my life is Dimitri. He's the one who killed Natalie, and he's a total badass. He's also pretty good-looking. Okay—more than good-looking. He's hot—like, the kind of hot that makes you stop walking on the street and get hit by traffic.
All the best, Sydney P.S. "The Red Hurricane" is what I named the car. P.P.S. Just because I like you, it doesn't mean I still don't think you're an evil creature of the night. You are.
No one had ever called me unnatural before, except for the time I put ketchup on a taco. But seriously, we'd been out of salsa, so what else was I supposed to do?
Rose. Roza. Open your eyes." I've never heard heard his voice so strained, so frantic. "Don't go to sleep on me. Not yet.
Kill me, Doug. Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery.” “Christ, Kincaid, what did you say to him?” murmured Doug. “Well,” I told Doug, “I ripped on his fans and on how long it takes for his books to come out.” Doug stared at me, his expectations exceeded. “Then I said—not knowing who he was—that I’d be Seth Mortensen’s love slave in exchange for advanced copies of his books.
This is a, uh, friendship ring right?” “Yeah, don’t worry. If I propose, you’ll know it. For one thing, I’ll be hyperventilating.” A sly smile—surprisingly sexy—turned up his lips. “And it’ll be a ruby.” “Rubies? No diamonds? Too expensive for the old writer’s salary, huh?” He made a disparaging grunt at that. “No, I just think diamonds are common, that’s all. If I get married, it’ll be because something uncommon is occurring. Besides, you wear a lot of red, right? I know how important it is for your accessories to match.
As he looked at me, he seemed to send a message of his own: that he would still fight for me, that he would fight until he collapsed to keep them from taking me.
This was the kind of dress that changed the world. The kind of dress that started religions.
You've always been my equal, Roza.
You managed to get him a duster, but you couldn't find me a pair of jeans?
Do you love him?" There were only a few people in the world who could ask me such insanely personal questions without getting punched. Dimitri was one of them.
About time," Christian said. "Lissa and Adrian get the market share on worrying about you, but they're not the only ones. And someone needs to put Adrian in his place, you know. I can't do it all the time." "Thanks. It kills me to say this, but I missed you too. No one's sarcasm compares to yours in Russia.
"Well, you've finally got a license to kill. It's about time." I turned and met the amused eyes of Christian Ozera, a onetime annoyance who'd become a good friend. So good, in fact, that in my joyous zeal, I reached out and hugged him - something he clearly didn't expect. I was surprising everyone today. "Whoa, whoa," he said backing up, flushing. "It figures. You're the only girl who'd get all emotional about the thought of killing. I don't even want to think about what goes on when you and Ivashkov are alone."
Adrian gave me a look that said I was wasting his time. "Because Jet sounds badass.
Oh," he said, knocking a red ball into a hole. "It's you." "You were expecting someone else?" I asked. "Am I interrupting your social calender?" I made a big show of glancing around the empty room. "I don't want to keep you from the mob of fans beating down your door." "Hey, a guy can hope. I mean, it's not impossible that a car full of scantily clad sorority girls might break down outside and need my help.
I decided the Alchemists needed an entire department devoted to handling Adrian Ivashkov.
They’re waiting for you. Go on in.” Adrian leaned close to Keith’s ear and spoke in an ominous voice. “If.You.Dare.” He poked Keith’s shoulder and gave a "Muhahaha” kind of monster laugh.
I can pick a lock. How do you think I got into my parents' liquor cabinet in middle school?
I’ve seen all I need to. I’m going to go drink now in a futile effort to wipe away the memory of this debacle.
Rose and Dimitri moved almost as one entity, like a matched pair of wolfes or lions, both wary and deadly as they studied their surroundings, taking no detail or person for granted.
Eugenie, my sweet, your outraged protests are adorable, but they only continue to slow us down. If you want me to help you, then let me. If you don't, then take me to one of those places where human women wear revealing clothing and quickly lose their virtue through alcohol.
Everything's about my personal entertainment. The world is my stage. Keep it up- you're becoming a star performer in the show.
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