E Grin Quotes

Johnny almost grinned as he nodded. "Tuff enough," he managed, and by the way his eyes were glowing, I figured Southern gentlemen had nothing on Johnny Cade.

You love strapping me in, don’t you?” “In any form,” he says, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “You are a pervert.” “I know.” He raises his eyebrows and his grin broadens. “My pervert,” I whisper. “Yes, yours.

Are you ready ?" she asked, spinning the chamber. Kell gazed through the gate at the waiting castle. "No." At that, she offered him the sharpest edge of a grin. "Good," she said. "The ones who think they're ready always end up dead.

Ponyboy, listen, don't get tough. You're not like the rest of us and don't try to be..." What was the matter with Two-Bit? I knew as well as he did that if you got tough you didn't get hurt. Get smart and nothing can touch you... "What in the world are you doing?" Two-Bit's voice broke into my thoughts. I looked up at him. "Picking up the glass." He stared at me for a second, then grinned. "You little sonofagun," he said in a relieved voice. I didn't know what he was talking about, so I just went on picking up the glass from the bottle end and put it in a trash can. I didn't want anyone to get a flat tire.

Hi," he says. I manage to grunt in response, and his smile broadens. "Rude enough for you?" I nod and give him a reluctant grin. Jeez, any ruder and I'd have to spank the pair of us.

I will never get enough of you. Don't leave me," he murmurs and kisses my belly. "I'm not going anywhere, Christian, and I seem to remember that I wanted to kiss your belly," I grumble sleepily. He grins at my skin. "Nothing stopping you baby.

Crusty and Cross here,' he says and I grin. He’s still playful Fifty. My inner goddess is clapping her hands with glee like a small child.

Hadley grabs the laminated safety instructions from the seat pocket in front of her and frowns at the cartoon men and women who seem weirdly delighted to be bailing out of a series of cartoon planes. Beside her, Oliver stifles a laugh, and she glances up again. “What?” “I’ve just never seen anyone actually read one of those things before,” “Well,” she says, “then you’re very lucky to be sitting next to me.” “Just in general?” She grins. “Well, particularly in case of an emergency.” “Right,” he says. “I feel incredibly safe. When I’m knocked unconscious by my tray table during some sort of emergency landing, I can’t wait to see all five-foot-nothing of you carry me out of here.

I trust you all slept well,” I said, deliberately keeping my tone light. I returned Malich’s glare with a tight-lipped grin. “Yes, we did,” Kaden answered quickly. “I’m sorry to hear that.

Unwrapping the paper carefully so it doesn’t tear, I find a beautiful red leather box. Cartier. It’s familiar, thanks to my second-chance earrings and my watch. Cautiously, I open the box to discover a delicate charm bracelet of silver, or platinum or white gold—I don’t know, but it’s absolutely enchanting. Attached to it are several charms: the Eiffel Tower, a London black cab, a helicopter—Charlie Tango, a glider—the soaring, a catamaran—The Grace, a bed, and an ice cream cone? I look up at him, bemused. “Vanilla?” He shrugs apologetically, and I can’t help but laugh. Of course. “Christian, this is beautiful. Thank you. It’s yar.” He grins. My favorite is the heart. It’s a locket. “You can put a picture or whatever in that.” “A picture of you.” I glance at him through my lashes. “Always in my heart.” He smiles his lovely, heartbreakingly shy smile. I fondle the last two charms: a letter C—oh yes, I was his first girlfriend to use his first name. I smile at the thought. And finally, there’s a key. “To my heart and soul,” he whispers.

Way I figure it, if I'm forced to have a partner, might as well have one with benefits. If you're annoying me, fucking you will be more satisfying than punching you." Prophet grinned, then added slyly, "And I could punch you afterwards.

I love you,” I murmur, and he smiles his heart-achingly shy smile, and I melt. “I will always love you, Christian.” “And I you,” he says softly. “In spite of my disobedience?” I raise my eyebrow. “Because of your disobedience, Anastasia.” He grins.

She says that I have to abstain from all sexual activity for the next four weeks.” Christian’s mouth drops open in shock, and I cannot keep a straight face any longer and grin at him like an idiot. “Gotcha!” He narrows his eyes, and I immediately stop laughing. In fact, he looks rather forbidding. Oh shit. My subconscious quails me in the corner as all the blood drains from my face, and I imagine him putting me across his knee again. “Gotcha!” He says and smirks.

My eyes ran away from his. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Your blush says otherwise." "It's - it's just hot in here." His grin deepened. "Yes, it is." "Oh, shut up.

Gundar, seeing Halt upright for the first time in two days, stumped up the deck to join them. 'Back on your feet then?' he boomed cheerfully, with typical Skandian tact. 'By Gorlag's toenails, with all the heaving abd puking you've been doing, I thought you'd turn yourself inside out and puke yourself over the rail!'... 'You do paint a pretty picture, Gundar,' Will said... 'Thank you for your concern,' Halt said icily... 'So, did you find Albert?' Gundar went on, unabashed. Even Halt was puzzled by this sudden apparent change of subject. 'Albert?' he asked. Too late, he saw Gundar's grin widening and knew he'd stepped into a trap. 'You seemed to be looking for him. You'd lean over the rail and call, 'Al-b-e-e-e-e-e-r-t!' I thought he might be some Araluen sea god.' 'No, I didn't find him. Maybe I could look for him in your helmet.' He reached out a hand. But Gundar had heard what happened when Skandians lent their helmets to the grim-faced Ranger while onboard ship... 'No, I'm pretty sure he's not there,' he said hurriedly.

We will speak for the books." ... "Like the Lorax?" "The Lorax speaks for the trees," I remind her. "Books are made out of paper. Paper is made out of trees." "What about e-books?" "We can speak for them too." "Audiobooks?" "Audiobooks speak for themselves." She grins. "Get it?

See, that wasn't so bad!" I grin as we tread water. Eventually he smirks at me, obviously relieved. "No, I guess it wasn't. Except I'm wet," he grumbles, but his tone is playful. 'I'm wet, too." "I like you wet." He leers.

You think this is a bad idea," he said. It wasn't a question. But it sparked something in Lila, rekindled the fire in her eyes and ignited a grin. "Without a doubt." "Then why are you smiling?" "Because," she said, "bad ideas are my favorite kind.

Perhaps the gods will surprise us and it will be neither.” “A true tragedy.” “Of epic proportions.” “Two longstanding rivals.” “And only one robe to bear.” “Who will win?” Darren’s tone was wry. “The handsome prince?” I grinned. “Or his valiant betrothed?

What do your parents do? Do they travel a lot?" My brow wrinkled. "No, they don't." I was tired of the interrogation. "Do yours?" He blinked. "What?" "Do your parents travel a lot? Are they still married? How many in your family? How old are you? What classes do you have? Boxers or briefs? What's your GPA? Do you always go around knocking strange girls off their feet and then hammering them with a barrage of personal questions?" I finished with a cocky smile. Tristan hid a grin behind his fist. Mr. Exotic levelled me a steady stare, a sly smile gaining momentum. "Do you always end up straddling the guys that do?" Tristan choked. My smile froze. Crap. "And as for boxers or briefs." One hand went to his belt buckle. "I'd be happy to..." Double crap. I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder towards my house "I've gotta go.

It does,” he admits, before nodding at her attire. “And yet,” he says with an impish grin, “you strike me as someone not easily restrained. Aut viam invenium aut faciam, and so on.” She does not know Latin yet, and he does not offer a translation, but a decade from now, she will look up the words, and learn their meaning. To find a way, or make your own.

I'm beginning to worry you might be more evil than I originally believed.' He grinned down at her. 'It's the pretty face. Fools them every time.

According to Mr. E., all of this was my fault,” Ryan explained. With a little too much amusement if you ask me. “For making you fall in love with me and ruining everything.” “Why did that ruin everything?” Ryan was quiet for a moment, and I couldn’t believe it when his grin changed into that infamous cocky smirk. “You just said you love me!” he accused with excitement. Again, I gaped at him, temporarily speechless. Of course I denied it. I had to; it was my natural reaction to his ego. “I did not!” “Did too.” He grinned. “You said, ‘why did that ruin everything.’ Meaning you agree that it happened. You said it. Can’t take it back. You love me.” Learning to control my powers was child’s play compared to keeping a straight face right then, but I couldn’t give in to his smugness. He was just so sure of himself. “Do not.” “Do too.” “Do not.” “So do too.

It doesn’t hurt much. I don’t know how it looks” – he lowered his hand and turned his face to the side – “but it can’t be that bad. What do you think? You’d date me, right?” Alex pushed him away, grinning. “You’re an idiot.

As soon as the door closed, Levi popped his eyes again. Bluely. "That's your twin sister?" "Identical," Reagan said, like she had a mouth full of hair. Cath nodded and sat down at her desk. "Wow." Levi scooted down the bed so he was sitting across from her. "I'm not sure what you're getting at," Cath said, "but I think it's offensive." "How can the fact that your identical twin sister is super hot be offensive to you?" "Because," Cath said, still too encouraged by Wren and, weirdly, by Abel, and maybe even by Nick to let this get to her right now. "It makes me feel like the Ugly One." "You're not the ugly one." Levi grinned. "You're just the Clark Kent." Cath started checking her e-mail. "Hey, Cath," Levi said, kicking her chair. She could hear the teasing in his voice. "Will you warn me when you take off your glasses?

‎"His grin widens, and leaning down, he undoes the tie.

She gave his fake boob a poke. "What the hell is in here?" He laughed and pulled the top down part of the way to reveal a grapefruit. She groaned onto her hands. "Hey, I know it's been a while since I've seen a real tit up close, but I think I remember the basic shape. What would you have used?" "Oh, hell, Michael,I have no idea what a man uses to stuff a maid's uniform. Where did you get it anyways?" Another of his shit-eating grins lit his face. "From the plus sized section of the lingerie store in Sweedesboro. I'm a woman's extra large." He was so proud of the fact that she laughed until her side ached.

We’re going to rectify the situation right now.” “What do you mean? What situation?” “Your situation. Ana, I’m going to make love to you, now.” “Oh.” The floor has fallen away. I’m a situation. I’m holding my breath. “That’s if you want to, I mean, I don’t want to push my luck.” “I thought you didn’t make love. I thought you fucked hard.” I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. He gives me a wicked grin, the effects of which travel all the way down there. “I can make an exception, or maybe combine the two, we’ll see. I really want to make love to you. Please, come to bed with me. I want our arrangement to work, but you re­ally need to have some idea what you’re getting yourself into. We can start your training tonight – with the basics. This doesn’t mean I’ve come over all hearts and flowers, it’s a means to an end, but one that I want, and hopefully you do too.” His gray gaze is intense

I hope you don't snore," Otto said, laughing. "Like a chainsaw, my friend, like a chainsaw," Wing replied, grinning.

You certainly know how to silence a room." -Ana "I do it all the time", he says, and he grins at me.

He was studying me. ¨You know, you look an awful lot like Sodapop, the way you've got your hair and everything. I mean, except your eyes are green.¨ ¨They ain't green, they're gray,¨ I said, reddening. ¨And I look about as much like Soda as you do.¨ I got to my feet. ¨He's good-looking.¨ ¨Shoot,¨ Johnny said with a grin, ¨you are, too.¨

So," the woman asks, digging through her purse and emerging with a pair of foam earplugs, "how did you two meet?" They exchange a quick glance. "Believe it or not," Oliver says, "it was in an airport." "Oh how wonderful!" she exclaims, looking positively delighted. "And how did it happen?" "Well" he begins, sitting up a bit taller, "I was being quite gallant, actually, and offered to help her with her suitcase. And then we started talking and one thing lead to another..." Hadley grins "And he's been carrying my suitcase ever since." "It's what an true gentlemen would do," Oliver says with an exaggerated modesty. "Especially the really gallant ones.

My dress?” I said in disbelief. “You still have it?” “No, not here. It was too risky to carry around in Terravin. I was afraid someone would see it, so when I got the chance, I stuffed it behind a manger stored up in the loft. Enzo’s probably found it and thrown it out by now.” Berdi maybe, but not Enzo. He never did any more tidying up than he had to. “Why in the gods’ names would you keep it?” I asked. A smile played behind his eyes. “I’m not really sure. Maybe I wanted something to burn in case I never caught up with you.” A disapproving brow shot up. “Or to strangle you with if I did.” I suppressed a grin.

I always say that it’s not really been a good day if you haven’t caused a major diplomatic incident by lunchtime,’ Otto said with a grin.

I never realized how much you meant to me until someone spoke your name and an irrepressible, goofy grin stretched my lips.

How do you walk to the end of the world? she asked once. And when Addie didn't know, the old woman smiled that wrinkled grin, and answered. One step at a time.

I was Mrs. Taylor yesterday.” I grin at Taylor, who flushes. “That has a nice ring to it, Miss Steele,” Taylor says matter-of-factly. “I thought so, too.” Christian tightens his hold on my hand, scowling. “If you two have quite finished, I’d like a debrief.” He glares at Taylor, who now looks uncomfortable, and I cringe inwardly. I have overstepped the mark. “Sorry,” I mouth at Taylor, who shrugs and smiles kindly before I turn to follow Christian. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just want a word with Miss Steele,” Christian says to Taylor, and I know I’m in trouble. Christian leads me into his bedroom and closes the door. “Don’t flirt with the staff, Anastasia,” he scolds. I open my mouth to defend myself—then close it again, then open it. “I wasn’t flirting. I was being friendly—there is a difference.” “Don’t be friendly with the staff or flirt with them. I don’t like it.” Oh. Good-bye, carefree Christian. “I’m sorry,” I mutter and stare down at my fingers. He hasn’t made me feel like a child all day. Reaching down he cups my chin, pulling my head up to meet his eyes. “You know how jealous I am,” he whispers. “You have no reason to be jealous, Christian. You own me body and soul.

The jack-o-lantern follows me with tapered, glowing eyes. His yellow teeth grin evily. His cackle I despise. But I shall have the final laugh when Halloween is through. This pumpkin king I’ll split in half to make a pie for two.

I’m a bit of a novice myself.” She smiled. Then she turned back to Jasper. “And please, call me Payton.” Like one of my favorite quarterbacks,” Jasper grinned. Only with an a instead of an e. And slightly fewer yards in passing,” Payton said. Damn—now she’d already blown one of the three measly sports references she knew in the first two minutes. Jasper laughed. “Slightly fewer yards in passing—I like that.” He turned to J.D., gesturing to Payton. “Where have you been hidin’ this girl, J.D.?

He smirked. "It's my wolf.He's trying to claw through my skin to get to you." She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe that for a second. Your wolf is a sweetheart." He could picture his wolf preening and grinning like an idiot at her compliment.

One nurse thought I was "brave." I think she was talking about my steely-eyed, grin-and-bear-it kind of attitude. There were no tears, no complaints from me - a total lack of affect. In a victim, it is courage and thus admirable; in a predator, it is a lack of humanity and instills fear.

Well," he begins, sitting up a bit taller, "I was being quite gallant, actually, and offered to help with her suitcase. And then we started talking and one thing led to another...." Hadley grins. "And he's been carrying my suitcase ever since." "it's what any true gentleman would do," Oliver says with exaggerated modesty. "Especially the really gallant ones." The old woman seems pleased by this, her face folding into a map of tiny wrinkles. "And here you both are." Oliver smiles. "Here we are.

Laugh and smile for no reason at all. Giggle grins are a magnet for happiness.

Are you ready ?" she asked, spinning the chamber. Kell gazed through the gate at the waiting castle. "No." At that, she offered him the sharpest edge of a grin. "Good," she said. "The ones who think they're ready always end up dead.

My sister, Judy, has always said that she would like to lie in state, propped up in her coffin with her eyes blared wide open, face fixed in a big grin, and have a taped greeting for all her mourners. Something real upbeat and, well, live-sounding, like: 'He-e-e-ey!Cuteshoestellyomamahi!

[Hadley] "I have a fear of mayo, so I've actually gotten pretty good at it over the years." [Oliver] "You have a fear of mayo?" She nods again."It's in my top three or four." "What are the others?" he asks with a grin. "I mean what could possibly be worse than mayonnaise.

What was a surprise was when the dog answered his question. 'Want to play ball now,' Gabriel [the dog] declared in a very clear and precise voice. Aaron opened his eyes and gazed up into the grinning face of the animal. There was no doubt now. The day's descent into madness was complete. He was, in fact, losing his mind.

Wing watched her leave and turned to Otto. ‘My father once told me that only the foolish man pulls on the tiger’s tail as it dangles from the tree.’ It was the first time that Otto had seen him smile. Otto grinned at Wing. ‘True, but how else do you find out if it’s a tiger at all?

Will I begin it? said Doyler laughing. That's all that's in it, he laughing said. Oh sure that grin. Oh sure that wonderful saucerful grin. Jim sat on the grass and he plucked at the blades. He knew for certain sure that Doyler would be turning from him again. He said, You'll be walking away from me soon, won't you now? There was no answer. Jim plucked the grass and stared beyond where the waves broke on the island shore. He said, I wish you wouldn't Doyler. It does break my heart when you walk away. Old pal o' me heart, said Doyler. But already he had turned, and he was walking away. Walking that slow dreadful slope with never a leaf or a stone. Walking; and though Jim tried to keep pace, e could not, and sometimes he called out, Doyler! Doyler! but he never heard or he did not heed, only farther and farther he walked away. And when Jim woke from these dreams, if he did not remember, he knew he had dreamt, for the feeling inside him of not feeling at all. And it was hard then to make his day.

Backslapping and smiling all around. Even Matthias. “Oh my God,” I croaked. They all froze. “You have dimples!” The rest of the boys grinned at the Aussie who slapped a hand over his mouth to help cover the deep, adorable dimples prominently displayed in each cheek. He pointed a finger at us and said, “Knock it off!” but from behind his hand it actually came out “Naw ih aw!” We laughed harder. He gave up the hand and turned away in a huff, but the dimples remained.

When kindhearted people smile, demons shrink and turn away as if tormented by the gesture. But when those beautiful smiles are made to fade, every awful creature in the world stands surer. So do yourself and mankind a favor and smile BIG whether you feel like it or not.

Her eyes travel down to where he's gripping the handle of her suitcase. "What're you doing?" she asks, blinking at him. "You looked like you needed some help." Hadley just stares at him. "And this way it's perfectly legal," he adds with a grin.

It is our custom to consume the person we love. Taboo flesh: swollen genitalia nipples the scrotum the vulva the soles of the feet the palm of the hand heart and liver taste best. Cannibalism is blessed. I'll wear your jawbone round my neck listen to your vertebrae bone tapping bone in my wrists. I'll string your fingers round my waist - what a rigorous embrace. Over my heart I'll wear a brooch with a lock of hair. Nights I'll sleep cradling your skull sharpening my teeth on your toothless grin. Sundays there's Mass and communion and I'll put your relics to rest.

Lost: Heartbeat. Last seen being chased away by an Irishman’s shameless grin. Reward if returned.

Michaels, is it our turn to take a fuck break?” Day shone that shit-eating grin he was famous for. “I mean that sounded like fun up there… I want a turn too. I worked hard today.

We might as well keep trying," Willum said. "Just because doing good doesn't seem to do any good doesn't mean we should stop doing good." "Say that ten times fast," James said, grinning...

His comment brings me back to my birthday dinner with Jared, and I grin at the memory. Dev blinks a few times at my pleased expression and gives me one of his knee-weakening smiles. Immediately, my face falls. "I wasn't smiling at you." "I see." He glances around. "So it was for the other man who opened the door for you." "As a matter of fact, it was," I say and breeze past him.

Would you let me drive this?" I ask, surprised that I say the words out loud. "Of course," Christian replies, smiling. "What's mine is yours. If you dent it, though, I will take you into the Red Room of Pain." He glances swiftly at me with a malicious grin. "You're kidding. You'd punish me for denting your car? You love your car more than you love me?" I tease. "It's close," he says and reaches across to squeeze my knee, "But she doesn't keep me warm at night." "I'm sure it could be arranged. You could sleep in her," I snap. Christian laughs. "We haven't been home one day and you're kicking me out already?" He seems delighted.

Kell frowned. 'I've never met anyone like you.' He hadn't meant it as a compliment but Lila took it that way, flashing him a grin. 'What can I say,' she said, 'I'm one of a kind.' Well managed an echo of her smile, and she gasped. 'What's that on your face?' The smile vanished. 'What?' 'Never mind,'she said, laughing. 'It's gone.' Kell only shook his head--he didn't grasp the joke--but whatever it was, it seemed to delight Lila, and she chuckled to herself all the way to whit bury.

What,” Mick said softly, “is Lad doin’ in me bed?” Hearing his name, Lad opened small, piggish, upside-down eyes, gazing with idiotic adoration as his whip-thin tail thumped the covers. “Ah.” Harry scratched behind one ear. “Well, see, ’e was lookin’ so forlorn, like, out in the courtyard by ’imself. Seemed an awful shame to leave ’im there all alone.” “Off!” Mick roared at the dog. Lad’s transformation was instantaneous. His tiny triangle ears folded back, his eyes narrowed worriedly, and he rolled so that he could crawl toward the edge of the bed on his belly. “Is that mud on his paws?” Mick asked in outrage. Harry glanced at the dog. “I do believe it is,” he said as if making a discovery. “Christ!” Mick watched disgustedly as Lad made the edge of the bed and slithered off, thumping to the floor. The dog seemed to think that his apology was done—or perhaps he’d already forgotten that Mick was mad at him—for he gamboled over as frisky as a lamb. “He’s not even me dog,” Mick muttered. Lad sat, one back leg sprawled out to the side, tongue hanging from his mouth, and grinned up at him. He completely ignored Harry, his supposed master. “The dog ’as a wonderful affection for ye,” Harry said brightly.

There's enchantment in a smile, did you know? Shall I prove in a wink that it is so? Watch my mouth grin wide and see, How quick your lips smile back at me!

Oh my God. You think you're my babysister, don't you?" He grinned and patted me on the shoulder in the most patronising way possible. "Go fly a kite," I growled, turning away. A couple of seconds later, he caught up. "I could do that," he said, like I'd made a serious suggestion.

Being the stud that I am… I gave the kid a few pointers.” “Stud, huh?” God smiled. “Yeah. I don’t mind taking the little tyke under my homosexual wing and showing him how to fly.” Day grinned.

I don’t know how to be with someone,” she whispers. “I don’t know how to be a normal person.” His mouth quirks into a crooked grin. “You’re incredible, and strong, and stubborn, and brilliant. But I think it’s safe to say you’re never going to be normal.

What is the spirit of Christmas, you ask?  Let me give you the answer in a true story... On a cold day in December, feeling especially warm in my heart for no other reason than it was the holiday season, I walked through the store sporting a big grin on my face.  Though most people were far too busy going about their business to notice me, one elderly gentleman in a wheelchair brought his eyes up to meet mine as we neared each other traveling opposite directions.  He slowed in passing just long enough to speak to me. "Now that's a Christmas smile if I ever saw one," he said. My lips stretched to their limit in response, and I thanked him for the compliment.  Then we went our separate ways. But, as I thought about the man and how sweetly he'd touched me, I realized something simply wonderful!  In that brief, passing interaction we'd exchanged heartfelt gifts! And that, my friend, is the spirit of Christ~mas. 

I'm after a woman who likes sex but doesn't put the lust part above the intelligence part. She could have a hundred partners for all I care, just as long as they've been vetted for psychopathic tendencies. I have four rules. Number one: don't invite a person into your body if you wouldn't invite her into your kitchen. Number two: the act needs to take place in a clean environment. Number three: precautions need to be taken to protect from disease and pregnancy. And Number four: don't ration the passion, i.e. put you best fuck forward.

The Devil's Rose You would never take a rose from a beast. If his callous hand were to hold out a scarlet flower, his grip unaffected by pricking thorns, you would shrink from the gift and refuse it. I know that is what you would do. But the cunning beast will have his beauty. He hunts not in hopeless pursuit, for fear would have you sprint all the day long. Thus, he turns toward the shadows and clutches the rosebud, crunching and twisting until every delicate petal is detached. One falls not far from your feet, and you notice the red spot in the snow. The color sparkles in the sunlight, catching your curious eye. No beast stands in sight; there is nothing to fear, so you dare retrieve the lone petal. The touch of temptation is velvet against your thumb. It carries a scent you bring to your nose, and both eyes close to float on a cloud of perfume. As your lashes lift, another scarlet drop stains the snow at a near distance. A glance around perceives no danger, and so your footprints scar the snowflakes to retrieve another rosy leaflet as soft and sweet as the first. Your eyes shine with flecks of golden greed at the discovery of more discarded petals, and you blame the wind for scattering them mere footprints apart. All you want is a few, so you step and snatch, step and snatch, step and snatch. Soon, there is enough velvet to rub against your cheek like a silken kerchief. Your collection of one-plus-one-more reeks of floral essence. Distracted, you jump at the sight of the beast in your path. He stands before his lair, grinning without love. His callous hands grip at thorns on a single naked stem, and you look down at your own hands that now cup his rose. But how can it be? You would never take a rose from a beast. You would shrink from the gift and refuse it. He knows that is what you would do.

I gently pressed on the back of my head, wondering how bad the gash was. Beneath the crusted patch of blood, there was still a sizable lump. It was ironic that a housekeeper armed only with an iron pot had nearly done in the Assassin of Venda. How the Rahtan would laugh at that. The name dug into me with a surprising sting—and longing. Rahtan. It brought back the familiar, the feeling of pride, the one place in my entire life where I had felt like I belonged. Now I was in a kingdom that didn’t want me and in a cottage where I wasn’t welcome. I didn’t want to be here either, but I couldn’t leave. I wondered about Griz and Eben. Surely Griz was healed and they were on their way by now. They were the closest thing I had to family—a family of poisonous vipers. The thought made me grin.

Above them, one of the blackened television screens brightens, and there's an announcement about the in-flight movie. It's an animated film about a family of ducks, one that Hadley's actually see, and when Oliver groans, shes about to deny the whole thing. But then she twists around in her seat and eyes him critically. "There's nothing wrong with ducks," she tells him, and he rolls his eyes. "Talking ducks?" Hadley grins. "They sing, too." "Don't tell me," he says. "You've already seen it." She holds up two fingers. "Twice." "You do know it's meant for five-year-olds, right?" "Five- to eight-year-olds, thank you very much." "And how old are you again?" "Old enough to appreciate our web-footed friends." "You," he says, laughing in spite of himself, "are a mad as a hatter." "Wait a second," Hadley says in mock horror. "Is that a reference to a...cartoon?" No, genius. It's a reference to a famous work of literature by Lewis Carroll. But once again, I can see how well that American education is working for you.

So what have you done this time, Malpense?’ Otto smiled as he heard the familiar soft Scottish accent of Laura Brand behind him. He turned to face her and returned her wry, lopsided smile. ‘What on earth could you possibly mean?’ he replied with a look of wounded innocence. ‘Well, a full-school assembly usually means that something has gone really horribly wrong and I find it hard to believe that you’re not involved if that’s the case,’ she grinned. ‘So, come on, spill it.

Part of me hates that you know me so well." "And the other part?" Prophet gave a faint grin, then said quietly, "Loves it," like if he said it too loudly, fate might swoop in and snatch this moment, the word, out from under them. Tom stilled. He didn't need the words, never really had. Like Prophet, he valued actions, but to actually hear that one word out of Prophet's mouth... it was all Tom needed.

Holland stared at his own hand, the knife’s edge crimson. They left they body where it fell. And brought another in. “No,” snarled Holland at the sight of him. A boy from the kitchens, hardly fourteen, who looked at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Help,” he begged. Then they brought another. And another. One by one, Athos and Astrid paraded the remains of Vor’s life before Holland, instructing him again and again to cut their throats. Every time, he tried to fight the order. Every time, he failed. Every time, he had to look them in their eyes and see the hatred, the betrayal, the anguished confusion before he cut them down. The bodies piled. Athos watched. Astrid grinned. Holland’s hand moved on its puppet string. And his mind screamed until it finally lost its voice.

So you have put yourself through all of this just so that you can cheat in an exam,’ Wing said with a slight smile. ‘An exam, I might add, that you would almost certainly have passed with flying colours anyway.’ ‘Well, it’s the principle of the thing,’ Otto replied with a grin. ‘I am not sure that I approve,’ Wing said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Cheats never prosper.’ ‘You know, sometimes I really think that you might not be cut out for this place,’ Otto said. ‘I take it then that you won’t be needing a copy?’ ‘Well,’ Wing replied, ‘I perhaps wouldn’t go so far as to say that –

Have you lost your mind?” I yelled. “Did you have to humiliate him in front of his comrades? Isn’t it enough that he already hates you with the fire of a thousand suns?” Her expression was grim. Unfeeling. She was in no hurry to answer, but when she did, her tone held no emotion. “Malich laughed the night he told me that he had killed Greta. He reveled in her death. He said it was easy. Her death cost him nothing. It will now. Every day that I breathe, I will make it cost him something. Every time I see that same smug grin on his face, I will make him pay for it.” She dumped her winnings on the bed and looked back at me. “So the short answer to your question, Kaden, is no. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.

Why am I feeling guilty? Why is he so mad? I peek up at him. “Well, you know a lot more about me now,” he snaps, his mouth presses into a hard line. “I knew you were inexperienced, but a virgin!” He says it like it’s a really dirty word. “Hell, Ana, I just showed you …” he groans. “May God forgive me. Have you ever been kissed, apart from by me?” “Of course I have.” I try my best to look affronted. Okay … maybe twice. “And a nice young man hasn’t swept you off your feet? I just don’t understand. You’re twenty-one, nearly twenty-two. You’re beautiful.” He runs his hand through his hair again. Beautiful. I flush with pleasure. Christian Grey thinks I’m beautiful. I knot my fingers together, staring at them hard, trying to conceal my goofy grin.

It’s what I signed up for,” Anakin said. He put his hands behind his back and grinned at her, unabashed and honest. The truth of everything hit Sabé all at once. “She married you,” she said. “It’s not an affair. It’s a permanent relationship.” Instantly, Anakin was on the defensive again, their truce evaporating at the first test. “She makes her own choices,” Anakin said. “You know that.

Your explanation has been quite clear, thank you, Franz,’ Wing said, still frowning. ‘I just think that financial corruption on this scale may be a little more than I can get my head around.’ ‘Poor old ninja boy,’ Shelby said, smiling. ‘Knows twenty-seven ways to take you down with just his pinky, but can’t actually count to twenty-seven.’ ‘So this makes perfect sense to you, I suppose,’ Wing said, handing the sheet to Shelby. ‘Yeah, it’s easy,’ Shelby said, pointing out one area of the diagram. ‘See this piece here is just gobbledegook.’ Her finger moved to another area. ‘Whereas this section is premium-grade incomprehensible gibberish and this section,’ her finger moved again, ‘appears to be mostly in Greek.’ ‘Am I to take it that you have not studied for the test tomorrow at all then?’ Wing asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘Nope,’ Shelby said with a grin. ‘There’s going to be some good old-fashioned last-minute cramming later though. Either that or I’m going to just sit near my best bud Franz here and he’s going to write out all the answers in nice, b-i-i-i-i-g, easily legible letters. Right, bud?’ ‘This is being what I normally do,’ Franz said with a sigh, ‘isn’t it?

That’s OK, you can act as a diversion,’ Shelby grinned. ‘The ten minutes that it takes Raven to catch you will be ten minutes she’s not searching for me. I want that twenty-four hour record and every little helps.’ ‘And the selfless spirit of teamwork continues to burn brightly at H.I.V.E.,’ Otto said. ‘You know, it’s actually quite moving.’ ‘Hey,’ Shelby said, ‘it’s not my fault you’re the slowest zebra.

Nothing," he said. "I've just been wondering when you'd get around to telling me about her." He stared at him, unable to hide his surprise. "You knew?" "I thought you were to busy...." "Being sad?" Owen gave him a rueful grin. "Well... yeah." "You know what made me less sad?" "What?" "Seeing you happy," he told him. "And for a while there, it seemed like those postcards were the only thing that did the trick.

We didn’t have sex.” He keeps his focus on the contents of the file folder in front of him, thumbing through the pages. “We did. I finished out the scenario in my head when I got home last night. I was amazing. You were just okay. I have to say … you’re the first guy I’ve been with who cried during your orgasm. What you lacked in manliness, you made up for with complete tenderness. I will always remember the soft caress of your tears falling onto my cheeks.” Flint eases his squinted gaze up so slowly it’s torturous. I nibble at the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. Dang! He looks so sexy with ruffled feathers.

Thanks to all the moving around Mom and I had done, I hadn't had a birthday party since I was eight years old. That had been at Chuck E. Cheese. Something told me the Council had something more elaborate in mind. "They don't need to do that," I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Especially with all that's going on right now." Nick flashed me a wolfish grin. "That's Prodigium for you. Very 'fiddle while Rome burns.

So what are we watching, anyway?” “Fast six.” I realized the polite thing to do would have been to ask if he liked the Fast & Furious series, but if he didn’t, I couldn’t date him anyway. “And if I haven’t seen one through five?” “Then you’re basically un-American. Besides, what’s there to know? Fast cars, pretty girls, hot guys, stealin’ stuff in ways that could never happen… aaand you’re all caught up.” His beautifully chocolate brown eyes went skyward. “Let me guess, you’re a Rock fan?” “And Paul Walker, and Tyrese… the Asian guy, and a little Vin Diesel action doesn’t go amiss either. Any way you look, you win.” “I haven’t liked the Rock since SmackDown.” I pretended to clasp my hands in prayer and closed my eyes. “Let him keep his gay card, Lord, for he knows not what he says.” He grinned. “You’re lucky you’re fine.” “Am I?” I lifted my brows. A queen did need his compliments, after all.

That was the coolest thing ever.” Eena smiled at the fact that she’d been lucky enough to touch the wings of a real crioness. “That was highly unusual. I can’t believe they came right up to us—to you.” “They were hungry, I’m sure.” “Still, crioness are cautious. They always avoid people. To let you touch him like it did…..” She grinned with pure satisfaction. “Wild huh? Derian’s not going to believe me when I tell him.” Eena cocked her head when Ian laughed out loud. “What?” she asked, a note of offense in her voice. “Of course Derian will believe you. When does anything ever happen to you that isn’t unreal?” Knowing he was right, she shoved him off the log anyway.

Clyde, she said it’s fine. What? Really?” Mom huffed. “Your dad wants to know if ‘fine’ is code for ‘please come home, I’m being held hostage by hormonal maniacs.’” Pause. “And if said hormonal maniacs are listening he wants them to know he will cut off vital body parts and watch them bleed out a slow and torturous death then bury said body parts on different continents throughout the world so he will never be brought to justice and will revel in their excruciating demise for the rest of his life because they had the nerve to cause his daughter any discomfort whatsoever.” I grinned. “Mom, Dad didn’t say that.” “I may have ad-libbed that last part. But he did ask about the hormonal maniacs.

Bypasses are devices that allow some people to dash from point A to point B very fast while other people dash from point B to point A very fast. People living at point C, being a point directly in between, are often given to wonder what’s so great about point A that so many people from point B are so keen to get there, and what’s so great about point B that so many people from point A are so keen to get there. They often wish that people would just once and for all work out where the hell they wanted to be. Mr. Prosser wanted to be at point D. Point D wasn’t anywhere in particular, it was just any convenient point a very long way from points A, B and C. He would have a nice little cottage at point D, with axes over the door, and spend a pleasant amount of time at point E, which would be the nearest pub to point D. His wife of course wanted climbing roses, but he wanted axes. He didn’t know why—he just liked axes. He flushed hotly under the derisive grins of the bulldozer drivers.

I look in the mirror and see myself, and yet I really don’t. Only an image is perceived, not things I will or things I won’t. Ideas in my mind I cannot see. No glimpse of how I feel. Shreds of emotion shape my gaze, but depth, the mirror will not reveal. I see my reflection colored in, my hair, my skin, my eyes. Hues in my heart and shades of thought remain unlit by fire or skies. I smile at the mirror and watch it grin, hasty to copy me, but who I am ‘twill never know. Mirrors don’t reflect identities.

Moody limped around the table and bent down; Harry thought he was reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he muttered, ‘Nice Cloak, Potter.’ Harry stared at him in amazement. The large chunk missing from Moody’s nose was particularly obvious at a few inches’ distance. Moody grinned. ‘Can your eye – I mean, can you –?’ ‘Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks,’ Moody said quietly. ‘And it’s come in useful at times, I can tell you.

Most of us, out of a politeness made up of faint curiosity and profound resignation, go out to meet the smiling stranger with a gesture of surrender and a fixed grin, but White has always taken to the fire escape. He has avoided the Man in the Reception Room as he has avoided the interviewer, the photographer, the microphone, the rostrum, the literary tea, and the Stork Club. His life is his own. He is the only writer of prominence I know of who could walk through the Algonquin lobby or between the tables at Jack and Charlie's and be recognized only by his friends. -on his friend E.B. White

Sydney, and I think you already know—” I try to hide my grin, gesturing to Swarley who continues to give a rude sniffing to Dr. Abbott’s crotch. “Swarley. Yes, I’ve been seeing him since he was just a pup.” Swarley’s magnetic attraction to a certain crotch is distracting. Although he’s not my dog, and I’m sure Dr. Abbott is used to it, I feel the need to explain his behavior. “He must think you have a big piece of meat in there.” The words come out of my mouth and my brain—that apparently has a two-second delay—catches up as I turn crimson ... Swarley has diarrhea of the ass and I have diarrhea of the mouth.

One minute I was at home reading in bed and the next thing I knew I was waking up on board a helicopter with some crazy Russian woman.’ ‘Oh don’t worry, we’re familiar with the crazy Russian woman,’ Otto laughed. ‘One piece of advice though: I wouldn’t call her that to her face.’ ‘Not if you’re a fan of the whole not eating through a straw thing anyway,’ Shelby said, grinning. ‘I do not believe that Raven would ever assault a student without good reason,’ Wing said with a frown. ‘I know. I was just, you know, exaggerating, because . . . funny . . . never mind,’ Shelby said with a sigh. Otto tried very hard not to laugh.

It’s perfect,” she softly sighed. “Just like in our dream,” Ian agreed. “Almost.” Her eyes flickered sideways to catch Ian’s handsome profile. A tiny grin inched up higher at the corner of his mouth. His shoulders slumped under the weight of expectations that he perceived clearly in her thoughts. “You want too much from me, Eena. Perfection is a tall order to fill.” “This moment is already perfect,” she assured him. “Until I disappoint you by burping during a wet, slobbery kiss.” She groaned his name with a hint of disgust. “You wouldn’t dare ruin this moment on purpose.” “No,” he admitted, “no I wouldn’t.” He smiled again, but there remained real concern in his eyes. “I’m afraid you’re anticipating a lot. It isn’t going to be like it was in our dream. All the mystical things that happen in dreams don’t happen in reality. That experience was…well… beyond duplicating.” “Then don’t kiss me at all,” she decided. “Just stay here with me and I’ll be content.

I’m possessive, and I get jealous. I know that. I accept it. I own up to it. I would be picturing thisimaginary person I love having s-e-x,” I whispered the word just in case, “with whoever he’s been in a relationship with, and I’d want to stab each one of those girls. But not everyone is like that. That’s part of the reason why I don’t have a boyfriend. I know I’m crazy. I already feel sorry for whatever poor bastard ends up with me some day, but he’ll know what he’s getting into. I don’t hide it.” Trip shook his head, grinning wide. “You said it. You’re fuckin’ nuts.” What was I going to do? Deny it? “Diana, I hate to tell you, I don’t know anybody like that.” I frowned. “That’s okay. I’m sure there’s some nice, divorced Catholic boy out there somewhere in the world, who waited to lose it until he got married and now he’s waiting again for the right girl.” “Doubt it.” I gave Trip a face before checking on the steaks again. “Quit killing my dreams.” “I’m just keepin’ it real for you, honey.” “Okay, maybe if he’s really nice to me and good to me, and I’m the love of his life, and he writes me sweet notes on a regular basis telling me that I’m the light of his life and he can’t live without me, I’ll give him ten women tops. Tops.” I let out a breath. “I’m getting mad just thinking about it.

I have imagined him in my mind for so long, my imagination creating a monster of grotesque features and proportions. But standing before me, his head tilted and eyes sharp, is just a man. Slightly balding, twenty pounds too heavy, whose mouth is turning into a sneer. Whose eyes are narrowing, stance strong, the combined effect sinister. This man, this balding thick man, has whispered in my ear, poured out the disgusting thoughts in his soul, showed me the dark evil in his heart. And now he is stepping closer, the excitement radiating from his body like a foul smell. He thinks I am weak. He thinks he can manipulate me and subdue me. Kill me. He has no idea that my small frame and delicate features contain an evil that rivals his own. I finger the knife in my pocket and fight to keep a grin off my face. This is it. This is my time.

We’d better get a move on,’ Shelby said, quickly doing up the fastenings on her own suit. ‘Francisco said that the Professor has some cool new toys for us.’ ‘I believe he actually said assault weapons,’ Wing said. ‘Right,’ Shelby said. ‘New toys!’ ‘You know, I do worry about you sometimes,’ Wing said, shaking his head. ‘What can I say? I’m a twenty-first-century girl. Who wants flowers and chocolates, when you can have body armour and bullets?’ Shelby said, giving Wing a quick peck on the cheek as she walked out of the room. ‘Is it right that I should occasionally be slightly frightened of my girlfriend?’ Wing asked as he watched her leave. ‘As I understand it, that’s perfectly normal,’ Otto replied with a grin.

There’s more than one way to sneak into a place, you know,’ Otto said, pulling his Blackbox out of his pocket and passing it to Laura. Laura glanced at the display, her eyes widening in shock. ‘That’s impossible,’ she whispered, not taking her eyes off the screen. ‘Apparently not,’ Otto said with a sly grin. ‘Want a copy?’ ‘That would be cheating,’ Laura replied, handing the Blackbox back to Otto. ‘Of course I want a copy.’ ‘A copy of what?’ Shelby said impatiently, trying and failing to grab the PDA from Otto. ‘Next week’s exam,’ Otto said quietly. ‘But I’m sure you’ll just be able to sneak in and steal one, what with you being so stealthy . . .’ Shelby looked half annoyed and half impressed. ‘How much?’ she said with a smile. ‘Well, there are a couple of things in the Science and Technology centre that I might like to borrow for a while,’ Otto replied. ‘I am surrounded by people of low moral character,’ Wing sighed.

You know that man’s story already. He’s just starting to believe what Day’s been saying to him for years, but he’s scared as fuck. If you hurt him in any way, Day will hurt you.” Johnson stopped grinning and looked back at God. “I thought Day hated him?” “Day is complex, Johnson. He’s crazy about Ronowski, that’s why he rides the man so hard.” “I get that,” Johnson responded. “All right. I don’t mind doing the slow thing. We’ll start with wings and a game tonight.” Johnson shrugged and started inching toward his car. “Next week, maybe dinner and a movie.” “Sounds good, bro.” God waved and climbed in his truck. Now that he was done playing Chuck Woolery and there were no more love connections to be made. He was going home to his sweetheart.    

Cruz nodded. “In case you’re wondering, I have a dick.” That earned a sudden, single bark of laughter from Shade, which in turn raised a disturbing red-and-white smile from Cruz. “Is that a permanent condition?” Shade asked. Cruz shrugged. “I don’t have a short answer.” “Give me the long one. I’ll tell you if I get bored.” She flopped onto her bed. “Okay. Well . . . you know it’s all on a spectrum, right? I mean, there are people—most people—who are born either M or F and are perfectly fine with that. And some people are born with one body but a completely different mind, you know? They know from, like, toddler age that they are in the wrong body. Me, I’m . . . more kind of neither. Or both. Or something.” “You’re e), all of the above. You’re multiple choice, but on a true-false test.” That earned another blood-smeared grin from Cruz. “Can I use that line?” “I understand spectra, and I even get that sexuality and gender are different things,” Shade said, sitting up.

Where is everybody?” “Hiding,” she said. “Except for Doolittle. He was excused from the chewing-out due to having been kidnapped. He’s napping now like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I got to hear all sorts of interesting stuff through the door.” “Give.” She shot me a sly smile. “First, I got to listen to Jim’s ‘it’s all my fault; I did it all by myself’ speech. Then I got to listen to Derek’s ‘it’s all my fault and I did it all by myself’ speech. Then Curran promised that the next person who wanted to be a martyr would get to be one. Then Raphael made a very growling speech about how he was here for a blood debt. It was his right to have restitution for the injury caused to the friend of the boudas; it was in the damn clan charter on such and such page. And if Curran wanted to have an issue with it, they could take it outside. It was terribly dramatic and ridiculous. I loved it.” I could actually picture Curran sitting there, his hand on his forehead above his closed eyes, growling quietly in his throat. “Then Dali told him that she was sick and tired of being treated like she was made out of glass and she wanted blood and to kick ass.” That would do him in. “So what did he say?” “He didn’t say anything for about a minute and then he chewed them out. He told Derek that he’d been irresponsible with Livie’s life, and that if he was going to rescue somebody, the least he could do is to have a workable plan, instead of a poorly thought-out mess that backfired and broke just about every Pack law and got his face smashed in. He told Dali that if she wanted to be taken seriously, she had to accept responsibility for her own actions instead of pretending to be weak and helpless every time she got in trouble and that this was definitely not the venue to prove one’s toughness. Apparently he didn’t think her behavior was cute when she was fifteen and he’s not inclined to tolerate it now that she’s twenty-eight.” I was cracking up. “He told Raphael that the blood debt overrode Pack law only in cases of murder or life-threatening injury and quoted the page of the clan charter and the section number where that could be found. He said that frivolous challenges to the alpha also violated Pack law and were punishable by isolation. It was an awesome smackdown. They had no asses left when he was done.” Andrea began snapping the gun parts together. “Then he sentenced the three of them and himself to eight weeks of hard labor, building the north wing addition to the Keep, and dismissed them. They ran out of there like their hair was on fire.” “He sentenced himself?” “He’s broken Pack law by participating in our silliness, apparently.” That’s Beast Lord for you. “And Jim?” “Oh, he got a special chewing-out after everybody else was dismissed. It was a very quiet and angry conversation, and I didn’t hear most of it. I heard the end, though—he got three months of Keep building. Also, when he opened the door to leave, Curran told him very casually that if Jim wanted to pick fights with his future mate, he was welcome to do so, but he should keep in mind that Curran wouldn’t come and rescue him when you beat his ass. You should’ve seen Jim’s face.” “His what?” “His mate. M-A-T-E.” I cursed. Andrea grinned. “I thought that would make your day. And now you’re stuck with him in here for three days and you get to fight together in the Arena. It’s so romantic. Like a honeymoon.” Once again my mental conditioning came in handy. I didn’t strangle her on the spot.

The car came opposite her, and she curtsied so low that recovery was impossible, and she sat down in the road. Her parasol flew out of her hand and out of her parasol flew the Union Jack. She saw a young man looking out of the window, dressed in khaki, grinning broadly, but not, so she thought, graciously, and it suddenly struck her that there was something, beside her own part in the affair, which was not as it should be. As he put his head in again there was loud laughter from the inside of the car. Mr. Wootten helped her up and the entire assembly of her friends crowded round her, hoping she was not hurt. "No, dear Major, dear Padre, not at all, thanks," she said. "So stupid: my ankle turned. Oh, yes, the Union Jack I bought for my nephew, it's his birthday to-morrow. Thank you. I just came to see about my coke: of course I thought the Prince had arrived when you all went down to meet the 4.15. Fancy my running straight into it all! How well he looked." This was all rather lame, and Miss Mapp hailed Mrs. Poppit's appearance from the station as a welcome diversion. . . . Mrs. Poppit was looking vexed.

Eena worried to Ian in her thoughts. (You’re not going to let him walk away thinking what I think he’s thinking, are you?) (You won't change his mind. The evidence is a little suggestive. You should have just stayed behind me.) (Oh, this is all my fault?) (Well, you were the one swimming in your underwear.) (And you’re the one who took your shirt off!) (You think the alternative would have been better?) She shuttered at the thought of the Braetic stumbling across her in her underclothes. “Cale,” Eena said in another attempt to convince the stranger. Somehow she managed to sidestep Ian’s effort to halt her, and she approached the man. “I am not messing around with my protector. I am, and always have been, true and faithful to Derian. It’s just……a lot of weird things have happened lately.” The Braetic looked willing to consider a good excuse. “Such as?” “Well,” she started, casting a furtive glance at Ian. He was shaking his head, conveying strong disapproval. She ignored him. “Okay, well…..I’ve been fighting these immortals who are bent on using me to break free from an imprisoning gem where they were sentenced to stayed locked up for eternity. They nearly annihilated a world of Viiduns—that’s how awful they are! But one of these immortals has control over my necklace, and her brother keeps transporting me and my protector all over Moccobatra in search of pieces to a star-shaped platform they intend to use to free their bodies which have been trapped for over three-thousand years now. We were sent here at an inopportune—and highly embarrassing—moment to find the final piece to the platform. It’s been a nightmare just trying to stay alive!” “Wow,” Cale breathed, not looking half as concerned as Eena thought he ought to. “So these immortals are using you and trying to kill you at the same time?” She shook her head. “No, no, only the dragons are trying to kill me…or they were trying to kill me until Naga put a stop to them.” Eena heard Ian’s hand smack against his forehead. She saw humor sweep over the Braetic’s face. It made her angry. “Dragons too, huh?” Cale snickered. “It’s the truth!” she insisted. (Eena, just forget it. You’re only making it worse.) She ignored her protector’s advice again. “Cale, I’m telling you the honest-to-goodness truth. Do you know the story of Wanyaka Cave? The red-gemmed prison and the two spirit sisters?” Completely out of patience, Ian broke into the conversation, rudely speaking over his queen. “We’ll be on our way now, sir. We apologize for trespassing.” With a big grin on his face, the Braetic offered a friendly alternative. “Why don’t the pair of you accompany me home. I’m sure my wife can round up some suitable clothing for you. Those immortals must have a ripe sense of humor, leaving you alone in the woods without any decent attire.” He caught a chuckle in his throat. “That is unless it was the dragons who took the shirt off your back.” “Dragons are immortals!” Eena snapped, as if any fool ought to know it. Ian flashed her a harsh look. “We would greatly appreciate the help, sir.” “Oh, it’ll cost you something,” Cale informed them, “but we can discuss that on our way.