Dean flashed me a smile that promised rule-breaking and breathlessness.
Caitlin KittredgeHell, Cal. You're a monster that mothers threaten their children with and you're still as touchy as an ugly girl in a pretty dress.
Caitlin KittredgeThere are seventeen madhouses in the city of Lovecraft. I've visited all of them.
Caitlin KittredgeSo what, we get in a big ring and poke each other with sticks while alien lizard men look on?
Caitlin KittredgeSomething breaks under my boot, and I know before I look down what I’ll see. Bones. Human skulls, femurs, ribs. The bones of otherthings as well, things that starved once the humans rotted away. Twisted spines, elongated jaws. Teeth.
Caitlin KittredgeI am alone. Alone except for the sirens, alone except for the burning, empty city on the edge of a rotting, pollutedriver green with algae, host to rubber-skinned, gibbous-eyed things with mouths large enough to swallow me whole andprotruding stomachs ready to digest me.
Caitlin KittredgeRegardless of the shape he took, Cal had a nearly endless capacity for worrywarting.
Caitlin KittredgeBrothers didn't make life easier, not even the jinxed sort of life we'd found ourselves in, I decided. They were tailored by evolution to be annoying.
Caitlin KittredgeMy eye was caught by movement from behind the automaton. Just a flicker, but my heart clenched with surprise and fear, and I tapped Dean on the arm, pointing. “Something’s over there.”
He followed my finger, and we both saw the flicker of red on the unbroken gray brick of the foundry walls.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled, jamming his hand in his pocket and pulling out his switchblade. “Hey!” he bellowed at the moving shadow. “Hey, you!”
“Dean …,” I started, thinking that perhaps shouting at the figure wasn’t the best idea.
“I see you!” Dean shouted. “No point in hiding.”
“Dean, we don’t know what it is,” I whispered, worried that if he made a move, whoever or whatever lurked beyond the automaton would take it badly. Dean shook his head.
“Relax, princess. It’s a kid.” He advanced on the shadow. “Aren’t you?”
“Up yours, mister!” the shadow shouted back. I pressed a hand over my mouth, both to stifle a laugh and from relief. To find another person in this wasteland was ten times more unexpected than finding a creature like the nightjars and ghouls that populated Lovecraft’s underground.
“Say,” Dean drawled, brows drawing together. “I know you, kid.”
“I know your mother!” the kid retorted. “And she has some disappointing things to say about you.
When a court officer suggested quarantine for Nerissa, she grabbed the man's pen and jammed it into the back of his hand, screaming that he was a Crimson Guard witch come to remove her memories and replace them with bird-song.
They decided to skip quarantine after that.
Tag: funny-in-context lovely-way-with-words mental-image
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