Bad days, good days, ‘I’ll cut you if you look at me the wrong way’ days. I’ll take them all.
Ilona AndrewsWe need a bigger gun.”
“We need a shower,” Raphael said.
“Gun first. Shower later.”
Ten minutes later I walked into the Order’s office. A group of knights standing in the hallway turned at my approach: Mauro, the huge Samoan knight; Tobias, as usual dapper; and Gene, the seasoned former Georgia Bureau of Investigations detective. They looked at me. The conversation died.
My clothes were torn and bloody. Soot stained my skin. My hair stuck out in clumps caked with dirt and blood. The reek of a dead cat emanated from me in a foul cloud.
I walked past them into the armory, opened the glass case, took Boom Baby out, grabbed a box of Silver Hawk cartridges, and walked out.
Nobody said a thing.
Look, he isn’t even concerned.”
I poured the tea. “He’s concerned, Mother. He just doesn’t panic, because he’s in charge and if he panics, everybody else will panic.”
“I can jog around the room pretending to scream if you would like,” Jim offered.
Tags: humor jim dali don-t-panic
A rolled-up newspaper landed on my head and then on Jim’s. “None of that in my house!”
Oh my gods. The alpha of Clan Cat just got smacked with a rolled-up newspaper. “Mom!”
She pointed at me with the newspaper. “Do not shame me.”
I clamped my mouth shut. When she pulled out the shame card, it was all over.
You want me to go back into that house protected by a magic sticky note?”
“Don’t even start,” I told him. “It’s working. If it weren’t working, you couldn’t drag me into that place.”
“What did you write on here? ‘Don’t die’?”
“No, I wrote, ‘Don’t be an a-hole!’” I headed for the house.
“On yours or mine?”
“On yours.”
“Well, in that case, your magic isn’t working. I’m still an asshole.
It’s never a good thing when the black volhv says “Uh-oh” and then runs for his life.
Ilona AndrewsTags: roman don-t-panic
Your favorite volhv showed up half an hour ago, complaining about his lack of sleep and stupid gods. He says he brought his Batman belt.
Ilona AndrewsTags: roman
I snapped the crossbow into the top of the mount, took a canvas bundle from the cart, and unrolled it. Crossbow bolts, tipped with the Galahad warheads.
“This is my baby.” I petted the stock.
“You have a strange relationship with your weapons,” Roman said.
“You have no idea,” Raphael told him.
“This from a man with a living staff and a man who once drove four hours both ways for a sword he then put on his wall,” I murmured.
“It was an Angus Trim,” Raphael said.
“It’s a sharpened strip of metal.”
“You have an Angus Trim sword?” Kate’s eyes lit up.
“Bought it at an estate auction,” Raphael said. “If we get out of this alive, you are invited to come to my house and play with it.”
It was good that Curran wasn’t here and I was secure in our relationship, because that totally could be taken the wrong way.
How is it that I could run into a gunfight against overwhelming odds and put myself between bullets and civilians, but I couldn't scrape together enough courage to speak to the one person who mattered the most to me?
Ilona AndrewsTags: raphael andrea gunmetal-magic
Wiggles hissed as I crossed the floor toward the throne. She fixed me with her empty hateful eyes and smelled the air, her long tongue shivering
through the slit of the lipless mouth. Nice to see you too, sweetheart. Remember my cattle prod?
Tags: humor ilona-andrews magic-bites
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