Elemental Assassin Quotes

You're late." "Sorry. I was busy talking about my feelings and killing people.

The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.

You're just jealous." "Hardly. Been there, done you. Adequate, but unremarkable.

Luck hadn't smiled on me tonight. Capricious bitch.

My name is Gin, and I kill people.

I’m just wondering how exactly I went from being the Spider to the Robin fucking Hood of the greater Ashland area... Instead of stealing from the rich, I’m stabbing them to death for the poor.

Executive Vice President? That's a nice way of saying he's someone's corporate bitch.

Emotions were for those too weak to turn them off.

You can work with me—or you can wade through the blood and bodies after I'm done.

I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn't as gracious a hostess as the next gal.

This is the first time I've dated an assassin. I don't want to piss her off.

Finn raised his coffee öug to me. "That's my girl. A bitch to the bitter end." I saluted him with my sadwich. "Always

I'd come to terms with what I did long ago. The bodies, the blood, the tears of those left behind. Even the fact I was probably going to burn in hell didn't bother me. Much.

This is an Aston Martin, Gin.You don't run over dead bodies in an Aston Matin." "Tell that to James Bond

Killing people was far easier than making polite chitchat.

Oh, Finn isn’t an assassin,” I cut in. “He’s much, much worse. He’s a banker.

I’m the Spider, bitch—I’m the best there is.

Finn did what he always did when confronted by an angry woman—he checked out her boobs.

For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her. Then the bitch blasted me with her water magic, and I got over it.

You picked that out?” Caine asked. “That pink, plastic toy?” I turned to look at him. “I happen to have been a little girl, once upon a time, detective. I know what they like. Every little girl wants to be a princess.” A thoughtful frown overcame the angry tension on Caine’s rugged face. “And what happens when they grow up?” I thought of my mother and sisters and all the horrors that had happened the day they’d died. A bitter laugh escaped from my tight lips. “Then they just want to be little girls again.

They’d played “Sweet Home, Alabama” so many times I wanted to crash the party, kill the radio, and knife whoever was selecting the music.

But I'd much rather face a dozen assassins like LaFleur any night than deal with something as tricky, convoluted, and fragile as my feelings.

Still, I'd do anything for him. Even smear his clotting blood inside the vehicle of his choosing.

He gave me his word. That means something to a man like Donovan Caine. Yeah, it means you'll realize he's an exceptionally good liar when you're clutching your intestines and choking on your own blood on his living room floor.

The two men eyed each other. Assessing strengths. Looking for weaknesses. Measuring dicks once again

Have I ever told you how scary it is that you think of heels in terms of their possible shiv potential?

You could just run over him," I said. "He's already dead, and it's not like you haven't done it before." "Yeah, but I don't want bloody bits of dwarf stuck on my wheels for the next two weeks." Finn sniffed. "This is an Aston Martin, Gin. You don't run over dead bodies in an Aston Martin." "Tell that to James Bond." Finn shot me a dirty look as he pulled out onto the street.

Gin! Gin, are you here?” “Right behind you,” I said. Finn shrieked and whirled around. I winced at the high-pitched sound. “Dammit, woman.” He clutched the folder to his chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

Maybe I find him...interesting. Attractive in an uptight sort of way. But that won't keep me from killing him if he does something stupid—like try to double-cross us. That is something thats nonnegotiable, no matter how much fuck potential he might have.

Always take the most unexpected route

Fucking pro bono work. Going to get me killed one day.

This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me.

Quite a crowd tonight, Gin. Usually, it's just you and Finn." I shrugged. "What can I say? I seem to attract minions wherever I go these days. Kind of like the Pied Piper." Behind me, Finn huffed out his displeasure. "Minion? I am most certainly not a mere minion. Head minion, perhaps. At the very least.

That’s hard core, Gin,” Finn replied. “Very hard core. Kind of kinky too.” A grim smile tightened my lips. “That’s me. Gin Blanco. Hard core and kinky to the bitter end.

I don't judge you for what you've done, Gin. Why are you judging me for another man's mistakes?

Easy was for people too weak to suck it up and do what needed to be done. And I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.

I will destroy you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what it costs me. I won’t sleep, I won’t eat. I won’t do anything but plot your downfall. I will mow down your men like they’re weeds. I’ll kill so many of them so viciously, so brutally, so horribly that no one will dare to work for you. And sooner or later, I’ll get you too.

Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.” “Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows. There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked upside the head. Then another voice let out a low mutter. “Shut up, idiot.

I looked at Bria. “How do you put up with him?” Bria started to open her mouth, but Finn piped up instead. “She puts up with me because I happen to be rich, handsome, charming, a witty conversationalist, and exceptionally talented in bed,” he smirked. “Flexible too.” I groaned. “I did not need to hear those last two.

Moonlight slipped in through the lace curtains, slicing everything with its sliver cracks. That's how I felt right now - cold and cracked and hollow and empty.

Finn regarded pesky little things like wedding bands, engagement rings, and jealous, hulking menfolk more as amusing challenges than immovable obstacles that could be hazardous to his health.

You've got a thing for Donovan Caine. You have ever since you killed Ingles, his partner, and he went all dogged and determined on you.

Are you coming along peaceful-like, or am I going to have to hog-tie you and put you in the car?

All I'm saying is that I understand if the novelty's worn off and you want to get off the carousel ride now before it kills you.

Art should look like art, trees and flowers and people, not weird shapes and splotches of color all smeared together.

...he was muttering my name over and over. Gin, Gin, Gin. Like it was some sort of prayer—or a curse. Sexiest damn thing I’d ever heard.

There's nothing I can do that's going to drive you away, is there?" I murmured. Owen flashed me a sly grin. "Finally figuring that out, are you? I nodded. His grin deepened. "Well, it sure took you long enough.

You bruised my ego, you see, and there’s just not enough money in the world to soothe my ego when it gets bruised

Oh yes. You’ve caught me. I confess. My sole purpose in life is to gleefully, willfully, maniacally destroy all of your precious chrome babies.

The romantic reunion and thank-you-for-saving-my-life sex would have to wait until later.

I know, I know. But I can always kill him later. This way, at least we get to humiliate him first.” Finn eyed me. “Sometimes I think you’re even more devious, twisted, and vicious than I am.” I grinned. “You only wish you could be as ruthless as me.” “Absolutely.

Too bad the smile was on the face of the wrong man.

I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.

Actually, I love pissing people off. Important people, rich people, dangerous people. I’m an equal-opportunity pisser-offer.

Burn, baby, burn,” she muttered in a hard, satisfied voice. I cleared my throat. “As much as I hate to interrupt the supreme satisfaction you’re taking in watching the mansion blaze to the ground, I’d really like to get out of here before the whole house collapses on top of us.

What was wrong with giving Gin a key?" he rumbled. "It's not like I could keep her out of the house, even if I wanted to. I thought a key would make things easier, make her feel like she was really welcome here. This is the first time that I've dated an assassin. I don't want to piss her off

Oh, baby. You have no idea what I’d do to get through those layers and down to the good stuff.

Rage filled me at her words - cold, black, unending rage. Whatever happened to me, Mab would not hurt my sister again. She would not.

I sighed. Sometimes, killing people just wasn’t worth cleaning up the mess afterward.

Jonah McAllister regarded me with cold eyes. "Oh, yes. That's her. The lovely Ms.Gin Blanco. The bitch who was giving my boy a hard time. A hard time? I supposed so, if you thought turning him in to the cops for attempted robbery, breaking a plate full of food in his face, and ultimately stabbing Jake McAllister to death was a hard time.

Hello, sexy. I knew that you couldn't get through the night without me," Finn's smug, slightly sleepy voice filled my ear. "So why don't you tell me what you're wearing?" I rolled my eyes. Apparently, my foster brother hadn't bothered to check his caller ID before he picked up the phone. I wondered if this was how he answered all his late night calls, or if he was actually expecting to hear from Bria. I really hoped it was the second one. "What am I wearing? Well, right now it would be the blood of two giants, among other naughty unmentionables," I purred. "What does that do for you, sexy?" Silence. Then Finn cleared his throat. "Uh Gin? Did you dial my number by mistake? Shouldn't you be cooing these sweet, sweet nothings into Owen's ear instead of mine?

Why couldn't she pick a nice, dark, quiet, deserted spot to do her evil machinations in?" "Because she's an arrogant bitch and her main goal in life is to frustrate you before she kills you," Finn quipped.

I want to stay with you,” Owen said, his words almost a snarl. “I want to fight with you and be by your side to the end—no matter what that is.

I pulled the trigger twice, cutting off his protests, and Finn joined my lover on the floor.

I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.

Donovan Caine wanted me, but he wasn’t strong enough to accept me. Not my past, not my strength, not the woman I was. Bitter disappointment filled me, replacing my rage, but I forced myself to ask the final question I wanted an answer to...

That's what this little conversation is all about. The talk about my knives, the stroll on the terrace, the handholding and come-on about what my scar sounds like. Interesting technique. Tell me, what was your next move? Maneuvering me up against the wall here? Or me accidentally falling on your dick?

Now, back to my vacation idea.” Finn grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Just think about it. You, Owen, me, and Bria, all happily ensconced in a swanky hotel by a beautiful beach. Bria in a bikini. You and Owen doing your own thing, Bria in a bikini. Did I mention Bria in a bikini?

Keep the change, Gin," McCallister said in a smarmy, mocking voice. "Consider it an early Christmas present." "Aw," I drawled. "A whopping thirteen cents. You're too kind, Jonah. Why, you'd put Ebezener Scrooge to shame with your bighearted generosity.

Breaking into the building was easy. Too easy for an assassin like me.

In the end, the only thing, the only person, you could ever count on was yourself.

One by one, the others all nodded their heads again, as if we were talking about having a spring picnic instead of going up against the deadliest woman in Ashland and all of her men.

Instead, I cut him. Not deep, but there was enough of a sting in the wound to remind him of what I'd done to the dwarven mobsters in the parking lot - and that I wasn't just some chick with a knife who looked good in black.

Hope. An emotion that always kept suckering me in, time after time, despite my supposed retirement from the assassin business. Hope. The one thing that always seemed to get me into more trouble than just killing people for money ever had. Ah, hope. Sometimes, I really hated it.

There’s no need for thanks. Family takes care of family. Simple as that.

I’m going to untangle her deadly scheme, even if it leaves my love affair hanging by a thread.

Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said. “This was a Fiona Fine original.

Don’t make it a challenge. You know how much I like those.

I hate to say this, but not everyone seems happy that you’re still alive,” Finn said, picking up on the glares coming my way. “You can’t please everyone,” I drawled. “And you know how much I hate to disappoint our dear friends in the underworld.

What do you think?” I asked. “Is it too much?” Finn tilted his head and gave me a critical once-over. “You’re dressed up as an ice queen dominatrix. I don’t think there is such a thing as too much.

I smiled, but it was a cold, heartless expression. “Because you’re in my killing fields now, bitch.

Killing someone was easy - getting away with it was what was truly challenging.

Death was a release, in so many ways. An end to suffering. An escape to something else. What that something else was, I didn’t know. Maybe heaven. Maybe hell. Maybe nothing at all. But I doubted it could be any worse than some of the things I’d seen and done in my lifetime.

It had been a long night already, and now here I was, locked in another fight to the death. Sometimes it just didn't pay to leave the house.

Hard to think about chasing after someone when your own femur was sticking up out of your skin like a lollipop gushing blood

You do realize that the cost of that bracelet is within spitting distance of my going rate as an assassin, right?” “You mean your going rate back when you were actually killing people for money,” Finn said. “Or as I like to call them— the good ole days.

I did it,” the guy finally said. “I did it! I killed the Spider! Woo-hoo!” Okay, I thought the woo-hoo at the end was a little much, but I let the giant enjoy his moment of victory. It was going to be the last thing he ever enjoyed.

Actually,” Finn said, sniffing, “I was too good for you. I’ve ruined you for all other men.” “Hardly. I’ve had longer, deeper, more meaningful relationships with cheeseburgers than I did with you.” “Yes, but at least I didn’t go straight to your ass,” he said in a smug, superior tone.

Where the hell are you!?" Finn screamed in my ear. "We've been looking everywhere for you!" I winced at his voice blaring out at me. "I'm fine. I'm back at the train yard. LaFleur jumped me behind the Pork Pit and decided to take me for a little drive tonight." "Well, I hope that you had the good sense to kill her for interrupting your evening," Finn sniffed. "And for making us worry.

Donovan Caine naked, water droplets sliding down his lean body, his muscles clenching and relaxing as he washes himself. Mmm. Nice image. Despite our earlier confrontation, I still found the detective extremely sexy. He'd be even more attractive if he'd lose the righteous anger and the stick up his ass. But no man was perfect.

I embraced that hope for a moment, grabbed onto it with both hands, and held it close like the rare treasure it was. Then I let go of it, let it float away like a butterfly on a bright day, because the darkest part of the night was yet to come, and there was no place for it here.

I strolled into a downtown parking garage, wearing a black pantsuit and matching heels. I’d pulled my dark, chocolate-brown hair up into a high, sleek ponytail, while black glasses with clear lenses covered my cold gray eyes. I looked like just another corporate office drone, right down to the enormous black handbag I carried.

Instead of a thigh-high miniskirt or a leather bustier, I wore my usual ensemble—dark jeans, heavy boots, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a black fleece jacket. Since it was almost Christmas, I’d donned one of my more festive T-shirts to celebrate—thick crimson cotton with a giant candy cane in the middle of my chest. The fabric was dark enough that Vinnie Volga’s blood wouldn’t stand out on it—much. Happy holidays.

Finn had finished his coffee run and was strolling back down the hallway, a mug of his steaming chicory brew in his left hand. He saw Vinnie heading toward him, sighed, and reached around behind his back with his right hand. Finn came up with a gun, which he leveled at Vinnie’s head. The Ice elemental froze in the doorway. “Why don’t you be a good boy, Vinnie, and go sit down,” Finn said in a pleasant voice before taking a sip of his coffee. His eyes never left the other man, and his gun never wavered. Finn could be a bad-ass when he had to, just like me.

Better be careful talking about how good my cooking is. Roslyn might get jealous.” The vampire madam let out a soft laugh. “Oh, I’ll freely admit that your cooking is much better than mine, Gin. But I have certain skills you don’t, especially in the bedroom. I think that Xavier far prefers those, even over a plate of the Pork Pit’s best barbecue.” Roslyn gave Xavier a sly look, and the giant’s grin widened. “Well played, Roslyn,” I murmured. “Well played.

What happened?” Bria shrugged. “I waited until I was sure there was no one else around who could get hurt, then threw my coffee in the bastard’s face and took away his gun. While he was screaming from the pain and the second-degree burns, I cuffed his ass and hauled him down to the station. End of story.” Fin gave my sister a warm, admiring look. “Nice takedown, detective. Even if you should have found another way to do it. Don’t you know that you never, ever waste a cup of coffee like that?

Any chance of getting something sweet to go with my coffee?” [Finn] asked in a hopeful voice. I arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean all those pieces of strawberry pie that you ate for lunch weren't enough?” “I’m a growing boy,” Finn said in a sincere tone. “I need my vitamins.” Bria snorted. “The only thing that’s growing on you, Lane, is your ego.” Finn sidled up to my sister and gave her a dazzling smile. “Well, other things of mine also tend to swell up in your presence, detective.

sandwiches, and drink mint juleps with the best of them.” “If you want to dress in drag and do the job for me, you are more than welcome to,” I’d replied in a sweet, syrupy tone. “You’re just jealous that I would rock a garden dress way better than you ever could,” he’d countered. “I’m frightened that you even know what a garden dress is.” “Oh, baby,” Finn had crooned. “I know all about the finer things in life—and the ladies who enjoy them. I happen to be one of those finer things, you know.” “I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

That's why you look so tired, isn't it?" I murmured. "You used up all your magic to find me last night." Owen shrugged as though it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing to me. Besides Finn and the Deveraux sisters, I couldn't even remember the last time someone had cared enough to come looking for me when I was in trouble. I was so used to being on my own for so long, always being the tough, strong, capable one, that I'd forgotten how nice it felt to have someone else look out for me. To have someone else care about me. And just like that, the fragile strings of my feelings for Owen joined together, all the tangled threads wrapping around and weaving their way through my heart. Scary and painful in some ways, but necessary in others too.

I might not like what you do, but you’re not going to lose me, Gin.” “Why not?” I said, forcing the words out through the lump of emotion that clogged my throat. “What’s changed?” Bria looked at me. “Because we came down here, and I saw how Donovan treated you. How he thought he was so much better than you, so much more righteous, and I realize that it’s the same way I’ve been treating you for months now, when you’ve done nothing but save my life over and over again. With no question, no hesitation, and nothing asked in return. Not one damn thing.” Tears streaked down her cheeks, and her blue eyes were agonizingly bright in her face. “The truth is that I’m ashamed of myself for acting like him and most especially for taking you for granted. When we found out that Callie was in trouble, you were the first one to do anything about it. You immediately stepped up and offered to help her. If it wasn’t for you, Callie would be dead now and probably Donovan along with her. You saved her not because I asked you to and not even because she was my friend but because you saw someone who was in trouble and you realized you could help her. Maybe you are an assassin, maybe you are one of the bad guys, but you know what? I don’t give a damn anymore. You’re my sister first, and that’s all that matters to me.” I blinked and was surprised to find hot tears sliding down my own cheeks, one after another in a torrent that I couldn’t control. She . . . she . . . understood. She actually understood who and what I was and that I would probably never change or give up being the Spider. She knew it all, and she was still here with me. All sorts of emotions surged through my heart then, but there was one that drowned out all the others—relief. Pure, sweet relief that she wasn’t going to walk out of my life, that she was going to stick with me through the good and the bad and whatever else the world threw at us. I reached forward and wrapped my arms around Bria, and she did the same to me. We stood like that for several minutes, still and quiet, with silent sobs shaking both of our bodies. Just letting out all the fear and anger and guilt that had crept up on us both and had created this gulf between us. But we’d overcome those emotions, and I’d be damned if we’d ever grow apart like this again.