Devon Monk Quotes

Zayvion and I had an agreement that we were going to give this relationship everything we could. And that included trust, faith, and honesty. Not a single one of which was among my strong points.

Instinct told me it was dangerous.
I could handle dangerous. Dangerous and me went back a long way. We did lunch when dangerous was in town.

Then you showed up on my doorstep, all good-looking and bleeding and..."

We were in front of my door now. He stepped up and draped his hand on the door above me. Leaned in just a fraction shy of intimate distance. Close enough I could feel the heat of him, smell the warm notes of the cologne he wore.

"Good-looking and what?" he asked with a burr in his voice that gave me shivers.
"And I couldn't leave you bleeding."
"For that, I should thank you." He moved just a half inch closer, his mouth opening slightly on a smile. "Thoroughly," he added. Then, "Unfortunately, I have other pressing matters to attend."

He reached behind me and was skillful enough that we didn't even touch as he opened the door. He leaned back so I wouldn't fall through it by accident and pointed at the room. "I do hope you will refrain from running out for another cup of coffee or starting an in-House war for the next few hours."

(...)"Sure," I said, trying not to sound hot or bothered. "For the next few hours anyway." I smiled innocently.

Don't I know? Not like I haven't done this." He picked up the plant and lugged it with him, muttering, "Stand there, Shamus. Don't bother the new girl, Shamus. Don't back-talk me when I'm teaching, Shamus." Maeve raised her eyebrows. "Don't back-talk me even when I'm not teaching, Shamus," she said.

Since I didn't have a spork handy, I leaned over the sink and scooped up a palmful of cold water and pressed it against my face. There had to be a better option than a violent sporking. There had to be a way to get rid of my dad.

What the hell?" I muttered. Then I realized it was Jack Quinn's car. Jack was a Hound and Bea's boyfriend. The left blinker flashed on for just a second, and then Jack drove at speed again.
"Zayvion, I'm sorry to tell you I think I have a crush on another man."
"Who is this unfortunate and soon-to-be-dead fool?" he asked.
"Jack. That's his car. He must have been waiting for us, or maybe he followed us."
"Jack Quinn has been following us?" Shame said.
"And now he's taking us to Collins, I think."
"Or a trap," Shame said.
"He's a Hound, Shame."
"My statement stands."
"You still don't get it, do you?" I turned left, following the car. "Hounds are loyal. Jack and Bea told me they'd help me if they could. They're not going to turn against me while I'm in trouble."
"What happens when you're not in trouble?" Shame asked.
"Don't know. It's never happened.

I came here on a matter of some urgency," the man said. "To take your father to safety."
"I'm pretty sure the grave is as safe as man can get.

I wouldn't want you to get in the shower and then pass out or some such. How about if I help you get out of your clothes? I'm an expert in platonic undressings." He gave me that wicked smile. "Give it a rest. I'm not going to strip naked in front of you, and I'd rather pee in private." "Half the injuries in a home happen in the bathroom. What kind of friend would I be to let you face that kind of danger alone? I mean, sure, you walked out of death, but this is a shower." "Shame. Get out of my bathroom.

Foolish heart, I thought. I don't have time for you.
But my heart, being foolish, did not listen.

Right. Conversation. I might want to try some of that.

Portland's good at wet. The best.

He shoved at me, tried to take control, but I was nothing if not made of stubborn.

I don't know what's happened to you. You used to be such a nice girl. Now you've gone all stabby and whatnot.

I was now officially Beckstrom the storm rod. And I hated it.

I was about to meditate like no one had ever meditated before.

Shamus shrugged. "It's all about energy exchange. It could always go the other way, me feeding a plant instead of drawing the life out of it."
"Do that often?"
Shamus looked at me over his shoulder. "No."
"Why not? Have something against plants?"
"No, but I haven't met a vegetable good enough to sacrifice a year of my life for.

It's not a damn death wish. I just know how much my pain is worth.

He shifted, rolled. I ended up kneeling with him beneath me. Boo-ya! I was on top.

I cupped my hands over my ears. No, no, no. Get out. Get dead.

Aspirin? I asked. It came out sounding a lot like ass spoon, but Zayvion seemed fluent in mumbleze.

I thought you people had a manual for this kind of thing."
He laughed. "We have a manual. Magic doesn't.

Hallelujah might be putting itself on the map, but that mark would be made in blood, as well as iron.

You coming in here?" I asked.
"Afraid I'll gnaw on your stepmother?

So if my ability to meditate was what was going to save the world, or at least save Portland, then I was pretty sure we should all think about moving to Seattle.

Last time you walked into death, Jones was miserable to be around."
"I was in a coma." Zay said.
"Like I said no fun at all. I have pictures to prove it." Shame smiled and leaned back in the seat.

Greyson is gone."
A high-pitched ringing started in my ears.
"Dead?" I asked, not at all ashamed at the tiny bit of hope that leaked into my voice.
"No. Escaped. He'll be hunting you."
With that as the option, I liked dead better.

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The three women laughing over there? Dark wavy hair, coffee skin, and beautiful matching sets of big, lovely - "
I slapped him on the arm.
"Hey. Eyes. I was going to say eyes. What were you thinking?

He trotted down the hallway on all fours and started in on his second favorite pastime, conversations with plumbing. Just what I needed: Stone, the Toilet Whisperer.

My dad told me he knew where to find Zay. Which meant I had to cooperate with him.
...
"Do you see what we have accomplished together? The healing of souls with the magic you carry. We have healed souls in death. With light and dark magic."
"We? No, you stuck your hands in my chest and stole my magic and threw it at them. If you try that again, you won't have hands. Where's Zayvion?"
Okay, maybe I was a little rusty on the whole cooperation thing.

Fucking fuck fuck of a fuck." Shame dug in his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. His hands shook as he lit up.
"Eloquence, thy name is Flynn," Terric said

For a brief, weird minute I felt like Dorothy in Oz, walking down the street with Terric the doubtful, Shame the brainless, and heartless Zay.

The pink rose Zayvion had given me looked a little worse for the wear, but it wasn't dead yet. Tough flowers, roses.

If this was what Mikhail called opening the gate close to Zayvion's body, I was going to kill a compass and a slide rule and send them through the gates of death to him.

You know what you are, Mr. Vail?"
"In a hurry?" he answered.
"A coward.

Magic was not a required course. He could have a degree in Wiffle ball for all I knew.

I doubt she likes the idea of seeing him put back in a cage." "Maybe not," he said. "But she knows that the Authority are the only people who might be able to help him." "Or kill him," I said. "That too. What is life without risk?" "Long?" Terric laughed, a sort of high whooping that made me - and Zayvion, much to my surprise - smile. Contagious. For all he had a serious exterior, Terric was the guy you'd want to sit next to at a funny movie, just to hear him laugh.

Shamus ordered half a cup of house brew. Then he proceeded to fill the cup up the rest of the way with milk and sugar. Lots of sugar.
"Sure you got enough milk in your sugar?" I asked as we strolled out of the shop and headed south.
He flipped me off. "You drink your coffee your way, and I'll drink my coffee the right way.

Zay shrugged one shoulder. "I wouldn't say it was entirely innocent. All that warm, wet water touching us everywhere. And the soap definitely had ulterior motives."
I wrapped the towel around me, tucking it tight at the top. "That career in comedy? Walk away now, Jones.

It isn't just training that makes a person good with magic." "True. Blind stupidity and a high pain tolerance helps. Still don't think I'm going to be all that useful.

Are you carrying gold?" I asked sweetly.
He frowned.
"No? Silver? Lead? Copper?" I made big, innocent eyes at him. "A girl out in the brush doesn't need credit chits, Mr. House Gray. What do you have in your pockets that's worth my hospitality?"
One of the Neds coughed, and I realised that could have been taken in a very different manner.
Abraham flashed me a wicked smile.
"Don't flatter yourself," I said before he opened his mouth.

Everything quiet?"
"You mean Shame"
"I mean your Pooh News. Any rumblies in the tumblies?" I gave him a grin.
He shook his head. "You just can't let that go, can you? ...

"You mean Shame"
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Okay, that was so far down Creepy Lane that it had intersected with Scaring the Hell Out of Me Avenue. I hated that avenue.

I think you're possessed."
"Old news."
"Huh. Anyone I know?"
"My dad. It's a family issue I'm working on.

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You owe me money."
"No, I'm pretty sure I won that square."
"You stole it."
"You were drinking maybe a little," Robert suggested.
"You were stealing maybe a little," Abraham said.
"Wasn't I just?" Robert grinned.

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Whether you approach your dreams on soft feet or in a breathless run, just so long as you acknowledge that your dreams are valuable and worthy of pursuing, then you've made it.

The Focal must hold magic, light and dark, together long enough for it to mend."
"How long does it take to mend?"
"No one's survived long enough for us to know."
I could see why people weren't rushing to volunteer.

I resisted the urge to pour mouthwash in my brain.

He was sunset against the mountains, strong, vibrant, dangerous, and yet somehow sheltering, protective. And married.
Picnic, meet rain.

And it's just a hunt?" Bea asked. "Just tracking the guy down, or are we going to have to do a little covering up of our own?"
Had she just told me she was willing to kill someone and cover it up? She gave me a happy smile, but that glint in her eyes told me that, yes, she'd just offered to off someone.

Don't know about my knives, but my gun's made of pain.

You threw Shackle," Terric said. "At his head. With a hell of a lot of magic."
"He was trying to kill you guys. He'd trapped Zay. What did you want me to do, challenge him to a game of dominos? I was supposed to ride to the rescue, right? I rode.

Let go of the past, of the things I wanted, of the people I loved, and move forward.

He rolled his tongue around in his mouth and made a sour face. "Got any gum? Mints?"
"No. You going to hark again?" He shook his head. "Mouth tastes like the bottom of my shoe." I didn't ask him how he knew that particular flavor.

If you are to survive, you need to put your stubbornness aside and listen to me."
"Oh, I just love that idea.

Should I take anything?" I asked, as Shamus slammed the trunk shut.
"A healthy sense of self-preservation would be good," he said.

Night Owls is a fast, fun read that kept me turning the pages. Lauren M. Roy delivers a plot that zips, dialogue that zings, and a cast of characters you'll cheer for to the very end. Thumbs up!

That's crazy-rare."

"And now it's extinct.

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I dressed in my bedroom, tugging on a pair of jeans, T-shirt, and heavy brown sweater that I'd picked up at a thrift store and loved down to holes.

I glanced up at the trees too.
Dead. Every one of them gray and white, needles rusted, leaves shriveled at the tips of branches. All the life sucked out of them. Not just the trees. All the plants, ferns, grasses and brush were shriveled, brown, barren.
As if a month of winter had set down right here in my driveway and gone on a killing spree.
...
"Love what you've done with the landscape," Cody said. "You could open your own business, you know."
...
"The hell you talking about, Miller?" I asked Cody.
"Yard care. You're poison and weed whacker all in one. You can call it Death to All Shrubbery.

Matilda?" he said softly as he lowered his head to mine, his eyes shifting to gaze at my lips, then back to my eyes.
He was going to kiss me.
( ... ) "Y-yes?" I breathed.
His lips were almost on mine. His body bent over me, closer, closer. I thought I'd burst for want.
I held my breath and closed my eyes.
His fingers squeezed the back of my neck, gentle and possessive.
"If you make me late," he murmured, his breath warm across my mouth, "I will throttle you."
Wait. What?
My eyes snapped open.
( ... ) By the time I pulled my thoughts together, he was already out the door. His voice floated back to me. "Move, Matilda. We're late."
That was it? No kiss? What was wrong with that man? He was sending off more mixed signals than a three-armed traffic cop.

I opened the door as quickly as I could - speedy as a snail in glue. My fine-motor coordination was set on suck mode.

Then Shame raised his voice, obviously talking to me. "Aren't you going to ask why I came by?" I shrugged the shoulder that didn't hurt. "You need a reason to harass Zay?" "Hell no. But I'm not here to talk to Zay. I'm here for you." He strolled across the room toward me.

Gotta say you Portland people take weird to a new level.

I felt like I should be wearing a sign that said "damaged" or "failure" or, at least, "injured." But some wounds only scar on the inside. Ryder

Did you refuse to be tested to see if you and he were Soul Complements because you were afraid you might want sex with him?
Yes, I am tactful that way.

You're a good kid. If you'd work on your pain-in-the-ass tendencies, you'd be real nice."
"Too bad that isn't going to happen anytime soon," he muttered. "Real nice doesn't get you very far."
"Real nice can keep you from getting beat up," I said.
He smiled. "Right. Maybe we should both work on it, then.

Oh, I was so not a wilting flower. I'd let a man pick me up and carry me because I couldn't handle the price of using magic when I was dead. Again.

You prefer the bed on the opposite wall?"
"I prefer the bookshelf in the lower left corner of the room, and the ceiling fan not to be hanging over my head while I sleep."
"OCD?"
"Feng shui."
"Is it contagious?"
"Hardly anyone gets it.

The last void stone I'd worn was a beautiful black stone caught in vines of copper and silver. It looked like a necklace, a piece of art, really. This thing was spud-ugly.

Dad hit lecture mode from word one.

Shame scowled. "How about I just make you angry again? That coat makes you look fat."
"Even more reason to take the stairs.

Meditate, he'd said. Jingo Jingo was such a joker.

I don't know how to explain it."
"Try words. If that doesn't work, we'll move on to interpretive dance.

Maybe in the morning, sunlight would to turn him back into a statue; then I could take Stone out to the forest where he could frolic among the ferns, gurgle at streams, and make friends with the other interesting rocks.

Violet, Kevin, the crowd, and my annoying father would all just have to wait while I ate half that torte and drank half that coffee.
Violet, however, was a multitasker.

Stone growled and stepped toward Dad, fangs bared. That's a good gargoyle. Take a bite out of Daddy for me.

But it was getting pretty hard to grieve someone who wouldn't just get on with the dying.

Don't tell me there are more things like that on the streets."
"Okay," he said.

She had that motherly no-bullshit way of using her hands as a second communication device and I always fell for it.

And wonders of wonders, they both shut up and did as I said.
If I'd had time I would have pulled out my journal and made a note: Shame and Terric actually listened to me for once. Warn Hell. There's a freeze coming.

Rough night?" Zay asked.
"Oh, no. Glorious, thanks. Mum had me cross-checking data on solid Veiled all damn night.Fuckin' A, there better be a shot of whiskey at the end of this damn morning."
"Nola said she'd have fresh coffee," I said.
"Whiskey. I'll say it slow: whiiiskey.

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If you need us, for anything, never forget we are here for you. All of us. You have done amazing things to make this world a better place."
That was really sweet. And sincere. And if I didn't look away from his kind expression, I was just going to cry like a little girl.
"Wait until you see my encore," I said.

I did win, you know," I said.
"No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did. I knocked you out."
"Stunned me. I wasn't unconscious."
"Oh, please, save it for the preacher. You were out cold.

You told Detective Stotts you think a wild storm is coming." "I thought you were puking." "Not with my ears," he said.

It's a strange world you live in, Abraham Seventh."
"You have a dragon in your backyard."
"It's a lizard."
"A lizard with wings."
"Okay, so that's a little odd.

More drinking, less flirting," he said. "Or so help me I'll throw ice at you.

The price for using dark magic is death, so that goes a long way toward deterring users.

What's the matter, suddenly develop a fashion sense?

We didn't like each other when you were alive," I muttered to my father. "You think living in my head is going to change that?

The pillow was heaven feathers in six-hundred-count cotton joy.

But it is clear to me that our survival - both yours and mine - will be dictated by how well you and I can work together."
"So we're screwed?

Is there an option C? Take a vacation somewhere sunny, and drink a lot of rum until the world unfucks itself?

You were saying?" I prompted. "Oh, right. Don't get pregnant. It ruins your short-term memory." I was the last person she needed to explain memory loss to. "Keep a journal," I suggested, with as little sarcasm as possible. She actually laughed at that. "I can't believe I said that to you." She pressed her fingertips against her lips. "Pregnant makes me a little stupid. I'm sorry." "At least you won't be pregnant forever." I gave her a crooked smile to take the sting out of my words.

He'd been working for my father and following me around for I didn't know how long. He probably knew a lot of things about me. Probably even knew what kind of underwear I wore.
Which begged the question. Was he a boxer or brief kind of guy?

Magic is a heartless bitch, and she's had me by the throat for years.

Horseshit," Shame said cheerfully. "He can dispossess you and die. Pretty easy, really. Most people die the right way the first time. You'd think a genius like him wouldn't screw it up so badly.