Ilona Andrews Quotes

The man approached. He stood tall, at least six three, maybe six four. Broad shoulders. Long legs in black pants. His black hair fell in a tangled mess on his shoulders. It looked like he might have cut it himself with a knife and then tied a leather cord around his forehead to keep it somewhat pinned. I looked at his face. Handsome bastard. Defined jaw, chiseled cheekbones, full lips. Eyes like black fire. The kind of eyes that jumped from a woman's dreams right into her morning and made trouble in the marriage bed.
He gave me a feral grin. "Like what you see, dove?"
"Nope." I hadn't had sex in eighteen months. Pardon me while I struggle with my hormone overload.
Shave that jaw, brush the hair, tone down the crazy in the eyes, and he would have to fight off women with that crossbow.

Rene, you want us to find you-don't-know-who and to retrieve his you-don't-know-what for you-won't-tell-me-whom?

Kate makes good sausage," Jim said.

Six pairs of eyes stared at me. Thank you, Mr. Wonderful. Just what I needed.

"Oh yeah," Andrea snapped her fingers. "The links? The ones we had the beginning of the month? I didn't know you made those. I thought they were bought. They were so good." Her smile was positively cherubic. Of all the times not to be able to shoot laser beams out of my eyes...

"What do you put into your sausage, Kate?" Raphael wanted to know, giving me a perfectly innocent look.

Werejaguars with big mouths with a pinch of werehyena thrown in. "Venison and rabbit."

"That sounds like some fine sausage," Doolittle said. "Will you share the recipe?"

"Sure."

"I had no idea you were a sausage expert," Curran said with a completely straight face.

Die, die, die, die...

Even Derek cracked a smile. Raphael put his head down on the table and jerked a little.

"Is he choking?" Dali asked, wrinkling her forehead.

"No, he just needs a moment," Curran said. "Young bouda males. Easily excitable.

Curran looked at me. What the hell was I supposed to do, catch the werebison as he was falling?

Never show a weakness; never show pain. The vulnerable get eaten. She would break down later when she was alone, but neither he nor anyone else would ever see it.

Are we going to school today?"
"No.
"Great. Then I'm going to go outside and see if I can get a gun. Since my own family won't let me have one, I'll have to beg strangers."

- Leon & Penelope

Do you have a girlfriend?" Grandma Frida asked. I put my hand over my face. "No," Mad Rogan said. "A boyfriend?" Grandma Frida asked. "No." "What about ... " "No," Mom and I said in unison. "But you don't even know what I wanted to ask!" "No," we said again together. "Party poopers." Grandma shrugged.

Andrea, in less than twelve hours, Atlanta will be full of demons. They will kill, feed, and release more demons. What emergency is more important than this one?
She hesitated. "I'm not supposed to disclose this. There's a man. His name is Roland ... "
I almost punched the wall. "What is he doing that's so damn crucial? What, is he building another tower? It will fall like all his other ones. Or did his eye finally grow back and he decided to have a battle to celebrate?

To Mother "no" was simply a "yes" that hadn't had a chance to hear her out.

Curran and Kate stood by the door.
"I can't believe you decided to come down here and check on me," she said.
"The guy once handed you a fan and told you to fan yourself if the sight of his naked torso was too much."
"That was like a year ago. Will you let it go already?"
"No." Curran grabbed her and pulled her to him, kissing her. "Never."
She kissed him back and smiled.
Awww. Kate and the Beast Lord sitting in a tree…

Answer me this, did you hesitate at all or did you see the giant, go 'Wheee!' and run toward it?"
"She ran toward it," Juke quipped.
"He was biting people in half."
"I rest my case," Curran said. "A note wouldn't have made any difference.

At the door, Audrey called, "Are you coming?"
"No, just breathing hard, love." He glanced at her and was rewarded by an outraged glare, followed by, "Oh, my God!

He pulled me like a magnet. Every female instinct I had went into overdrive.

Father, you are sending mixed signals. You dispatched a woman to murder me today and now you're upset about my wedding reception?

But whatever regrets she had, she would have to live with them. Regrets never did anyone any good.

I leaned into Barabas's office. "Do you want to come help pick out a suit for Christopher?" "No," Barabas said firmly, tapping a stack of papers against his desk to even it out. "Why?" "Because I don't need to see him in a suit." Curran

You have to live a little." Grandma fitted the track bar into the cog on the track. "Go out with a bad boy. Run headfirst into a fight. Get roaring drunk. Something!

You destroyed five million dollars' worth of luxury cars."
"Yes, but none of them are wearing human heads as hood ornaments.

Doode," George said.
He'd practiced all morning but still didn't get it quite right. "Nope, more u, less oo. Duuude."
"Dude."
"Dude."
"Okay, dude." George nodded.
"How's it hanging?" Jack asked.
"How am I supposed to answer that?" George looked at him.
"I don't think Kaldar said anything about that. I guess 'good'? I don't get it. What's hanging anyway?"
George shook his head. "Your stuff, you nimwit."
His stuff ... Oh. Ha! "In that case, it's hanging long!" Jack dissolved in giggles. "Long, get it?

He'd practiced all" title="Ilona Andrews Quotes: Doode," George said.
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That had to be the craziest thing he'd heard. At some point they must've looked around and said, "Hey, what do we have a shitload of?"
"Mud! It's cold and wet. I know, let's burn it!"
"Well, it ain't good for nothing else."
What the hell? He supposed if fish could have legs, then mud could burn. Spider or nor spider, if their cats started flying, he would be out of here like a rocket.

You're the most experienced investigator I've got who's not tied up in something, and I can't ask the Consort to look look into it, because A) she and Curran are working on something else and B) when the Consort gets involved, half of the world blows up.

You are not a gentle flower who spends its whole life in a greenhouse. You are a wildfire, Lark. A wildfire.

I sat at a table in my shadowy kitchen, staring down a bottle of Boone's Farm
Hard Lemonade, when a magic fluctuation hit. My wards shivered and died, leaving my home stripped of its defenses. The TV flared into life, unnaturally loud in the empty house.
I raised my eyebrow at the bottle and bet it that another urgent bulletin was on.
The bottle lost.
"Urgent bulletin!" Margaret Chang announced. "The Attorney General advises all citizens that any attempt at summoning or other activities resulting in the appearance of a supernaturally powerful being can be hazardous to yourself and to other citizens."
"No shit," I told the bottle.

Let's play who can be a better killer. My sword and I love this game.

Obviously I was missing the whole picture. Any minute now he would leap up, wrench the two-inch silver alloy bars apart despite the fact that silver was toxic to shapeshifters, and heroically kick Saiman's ass. Any minute now. Any minute.

The way she sat now, leaning forward frowning, biting her pink bottom lip, her shirt dipping to reveal a hint of her cleavage ... He wondered idly if he could get her to bend over a little farther ...
"Just what are you staring at, exactly?"
Kadar snapped back to reality. "You. You've been thinking hard for the last five minutes. It's not good for you to strain your pretty little head like that. I'm waiting for the steam to shoot out of your ears to relieve the pressure on your brain."
"Aha." Audrey glanced at Jack and George. "What you have here is a man who was caught gaping at my breasts, and now he's trying to cover it up with rudeness.

Definitely an undead, but not as undead as a vampire. Perhaps she was just mostly undead.

Fate, that bloody, vicious, fickle bitch. Sometimes she loved him, and he could do nothing wrong. And sometimes she stuck a knife in his back.

Now Julie could stay here, in the Keep full of homicidal maniacs who grew teeth the size of switchblades and erupted into a violent frenzy when threatened.

To the left Derek raised his bloody muzzle from the ruined back of the fifth reeve.
"Don't bite!" Dumbass. Perfect wolf for you - isn't happy until he's got poisonous shit smeared all over his teeth.

He said, 'Yeah, but will I get chicks? In truckloads?

The newcomer struck him as an enterprising sort of man. The kind that would slit your throat for a box of tissues in your bag while you slept.

If a man takes you to a restaurant of his choosing, don't compliment him. Rave about the quality of the food and he'll be thrilled, because he took you there.

I would kill Kurt. I would strangle him with my bare hands.

I stomped up the stairs to the second floor of Rogan's HQ, where Heart and Bug waited for me. Napoleon saw my face and ran behind Bug's chair to hide.

"Where is Kurt?" I growled.

Bug blinked. "I'm not sure I should tell you this information."

"Bug!"

"Kurt is a valuable member of the team, and you have murder on your face.

Curran stood in the middle of the street, his hands still locked on the insect's front pair of legs. The spider-scorpion was lunging at him again and again, trying to grip him with its pincers. If those mandibles closed on Curran, they'd slice his arms off.
Oh no, you don't.
I charged the spider.

They never fought about anything important. They never stole from each other, they never tried to sabotage each other's relationships, and if anyone dared to look at one of them the wrong way, the other one would be the first to charge to her sister's defense.But if one of them took the other's hairbrush and didn't clean it, it was World War III.

He came for me. I couldn't believe it.
He came for me. Into a flying palace full of thousands of armed rakshasas in the middle of a magic jungle. Oh, you stupid, stupid idiot man. What was the God damn point of saving him only to watch him throw his life away?
Kate for Curran

I realized that I'm a child."
William looked point-blank at her chest. "No.

Kate sat at her desk. Grendel sprawled by her feet, an enormous black monstrosity that had more in common with the hound of the Baskervilles than with any poodle I had ever seen.

I dreamt of Curran snarling "Fix her!" And Doolittle saying that he wasn't a god and there was only so much he could do. I dreamt of Julie crying by my bed, of Jim sitting near, of Andrea telling me some frustratingly complicated story . . . The noises blended in my head until finally I could stand it no longer. "Would all of you just be quiet? Please."
I blinked and saw Curran's face.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey." I smiled. There he was, alive. I was alive. "I was telling the people in my head to shut up."
"They have medication for that."
"I probably can't afford it."
He caressed my cheek.
"You came for me," I whispered.
"Always," he told me.
"You're a damn idiot. Trying to throw your life away?"
"Just staying sharp. Keeping you safe keeps me in shape."
He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. I reached for him and he hugged me to him and held on for a long moment. I closed my eyes, smiling at the simple pleasure of his skin on mine.

Maybe I should roll down the window to let some of the sexual tension out.

How does this even happen? How can someone you love be there one second and then gone the next?

You said your cousin was a necromancer. You know how the natural necromancers operate?
They twisted the head off your favorite doll, stuffed a dead bird into it, and made it walk around. And then they were puzzled why you got upset.

Andrea turned her back to Desandra and rolled her eyes. Raphael grimaced. They both looked scandalized. Dear God, what could she have said to scandalize a bouda ...
"No, really!" Desandra nodded. "Okay, so most guys don't have a nice ball sack, right? It looks all hairy and wrinkled like some small animal died between their legs, but Gerardo's is like two plums in a velvet bag ... "
Derek, who'd been lingering in the doorway, took a careful step to the left behind the wall and disappeared from my view.
Kill me, somebody. I raised my hand. "Hold that thought. I need to borrow Andrea for a minute."
I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hallway. Behind us Raphael growled, "Don't leave me!"
Andrea leaned towards me. "Plums."
"Listen ... "
Andrea raised her hands, imitating holding plums the size of small coconuts, and moved them up and down.

Let's hope your lion has some brains, otherwise your child will be a dimwit.

He cut right through the layers of civilization, politeness, and social snobbery to some preternatural female sense that said, "Dominant male. Danger. Power. Sex." Why

Landon paced back and forth, his eyes a little wild.
'Well, he took it worse than I did,' Curran said.
'I don't see what the big deal is.'
'It's a sword made out of your grandmothers bones, Kate.'
I shrugged
Landon stared at me through the windshield, turned around, paced back and forth, and stared at me again

...The Civil Majority takes its root from the quote by Johanna Hemlock, a nineteenth-century philosopher and Prime. The Civil Majority seeks to limit House involvement in politics."

"What's the quote," I asked.

"In a country ruled by a civil majority even the smallest minority enjoys greater protection than a majority living in a country where power is hoarded by select few," Cornelius said.

This man was a rogue, not because circumstances forced him to be a criminal but because he was born that way. He was probably conning his mother out of her milk the moment he could grin. He'd charm the clothes off a virgin in twenty minutes. And if the poor fool took him home, he'd drink her dad under the table, beguile her mother, charm her grandparents, and treat the girl to a night she'd never forget. In the morning, her dad would be sick with alcohol poisoning, the good silver would be missing together with the family car, and in a month, both the former virgin and her mother would be expecting.

Every woman should be told she's attractive. Men are seduced by their eyes, women by their ears. Saiman

What's the deal with the hair?"
Curran tore his gaze from the book and grimaced. "Grows every flare. Can't help it." We stared at each other. "Waiting for the Fabio joke," he said.

I had to give it him, to flatter and insult a woman in one propostition took talent.

The good doctor put a spoon of tea into my honey." "You're drinking tea a honey badger made," Jim said. "What did you expect?

Three years ago, on a night like this I would have been driving my old car home alone, praying it didn't die a noble death in some snow drift. When I rolled up to the house, it would be dark. My heat would be off to save money, my bed would be cold, and if I wanted to tell someone about my day, I'd have to talk to my sword and pretend it listened. Slayer was an excellent weapon, but it never laughed at my jokes.

I learned that sometimes what you go looking for isn't as important as what you leave behind." My

Roland had sworn off children - they kept trying to kill him.

What are you going to wear?" "My badass face." "Good choice," he said.

Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don't look awful this time.
Me (Ilona): ...

~A little later~

Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen*
Kid 1: Hey, you've got to see these pies. *opening the stove*
Kid 2: Wow. They are not ugly this time.
Kid 1: I know, right?

Consort," I said. "You honor us."
"Fuck you," Dali said. "Fuck your shit. I quit.

Raphael was a bouda and they viewed sex as a fun recreational activity that should be practiced vigorously and often.

I just had to stay cool. Zen. No punching in the face. Punching would not be Zen.

Look under the passenger seat in a black plastic bin. There should be a book."
Raphael hopped out, dug under the seat, and pulled out a dog-eared copy of The Almanac of Mystical Creatures.
"Got it," I said into the phone.
"Page seventy-six."
Raphael flipped the book open and held it up. On the left page a lithograph showed a three-headed dog with a serpent for a tail. The caption under the picture said CERBERUS.
"Is that your dog?" Kate asked.
"Could be. How the heck did you know the exact page?"
"I have perfect memory!"
I snorted.
She sighed into the phone.
"I spilled coffee on that page and had to leave the book open to dry it out. It always opens to that entry now.

Hey, dickhead!" one of the other drivers yelled. "Get off the road!"
"This here is a Falcon Seven," the rider told him. "I can put a bolt through your windshield and pin you to your seat like a bug."
A direct threat, huh? Okay.

I pulled down my sunglasses a bit so the rider would see my eyes. "That's a nice crossbow."
He glanced in my direction. He saw a friendly blond girl with a big smile and a light Texas accent and didn't get alarmed.

"You've got what, a seventy-five-pound draw on it? Takes you about four seconds to reload?"
"Three," he said.

I gave him my Order smile: sweet grin, hard eyes, reached over to my passenger seat, and pulled out my submachine gun. About twenty-seven inches long, the HK was my favorite toy for close-quarters combat. The rider's eyes went wide.
"This is an HK UMP submachine gun. Renowned for its stopping power and reliability. Cyclic rate of fire: eight hundred rounds per minute. That means I can empty this thirty-round clip into you in less than three seconds. At this range, I'll cut you in half." It wasn't strictly true but it sounded good. "You see what it says on the barrel?"

On the barrel, pretty white letters spelled out PARTY STARTER.

"You open your mouth again, and I'll get the party started."
The rider clamped his jaws shut.

One day, she'd find a way to live her life to the fullest. She was sure of it. She just had no idea how she would manage it.

I like that you're jealous."
"Rogan, put the car back."
"Come to dinner with me tonight and I'll consider it."
Yes! "No. I don't negotiate with terrorists."
"If you don't go to dinner with me, I'll have to do something drastic like stand by your window with a boom box blasting some idiotically sappy song.

She can tell you the height of the attacker from the trigonometry of the blood spatter, while I'm fuzzy on what trigonometry is.

What did you write on here? 'Don't die'?"
"No, I wrote, 'Don't be an asshole!'"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.

Did he just rip out the engine?" I asked.
"Yes", Saiman said. "And now he is demolishing the Maserati with it."
Ten seconds later Curran hurled the twisted wreck of black and orange that used to be the Maserati into the wall.
The first melodic notes of an old song came from the computer. I glanced at Saiman.
He shrugged. "It begged for a soundtrack.

We took a right at the fork, heading farther north. The charred houses continued. To the right, a large sign nailed to an old telephone post shouted DANGER in huge red letters. Underneath in crisp black letters was written:
IM-1: Infectious Magic Area
Do Not Enter
Authorized Personnel Only
A second smaller sign under the first one, written on a piece of plastic with permanent marker, read:
Keep out, stupid.
"We aren't going to keep out, are we?" Ascanio asked.
"No."
"Awesome.

He hung up and glanced at me. "I'm sorry, I have to take care of business. It can't wait, but I'll keep it short."
"Not a problem. I'll busy myself with being seen and tossing my hair. Would you like me to twirl it on my finger while biting my lip?"
"Could you?"
"No, sorry." I grinned at him

One school of thought says that the best way to handle an issue like this is exposure therapy," Mad Rogan said. "For example, if you're terrified of snakes, repeated handling of them will cure it."
Aha. "I'm not handling your snake.

Ready to put your claws where your mouth is, or are you going to cringe behind the big boys and yip all day?"
His eyes flared yellow "Is that a challenge?"
"Yes it is.

You don't have the touching rights." "How do I get those?" Stop being a self-absorbed spoiled baby. "You get those if I fall in love with you." He stopped. "In love. You're serious?" "Yes." That would shut him up. "What is this, the sixteenth century? Should I write you a sonnet next?" "Is it going to be a good sonnet?

This is ridiculous. You're bleeding. Don't lie to me, I can smell it. You're hurt. You need a medmage."
"I'm not hurt that badly."
His lips wrinkled, showing his teeth. "How badly do you have to be hurt?"
"There is a right-to-life exemption, which permits us to leave the scene if our injuries are life threatening. We'd have to provide paperwork from a hospital, or a qualified medmage, showing that we had to get treatment or we would've died. My injuries are not life threatening."
"Paperwork is not a problem."
"Yes, but I won't lie."
"How do you know your injuries aren't life threatening? You're covered in the fluid from its guts. How do you know it's not poisonous?"
"If it's poisonous, we'll deal with it when I feel sick."
"Fine. I'll stay here with this thing, and you will drive yourself to the hospital."
"No."
He hit me with an alpha stare.
I opened my eyes as wide as I could. "Why, of course, Your Majesty. What was I thinking? I will go and do this right away, just please don't look at me."
"Kate, get in the car."
"Maybe you should growl dramatically. I don't think I'm intimidated enough."
"I will put you in the car."
"No, you won't. First, it took both of us to kill that thing, and if it reinvents itself again, it will take both of us again. I'm not leaving you alone with it. Second, if you try to physically carry me to the car, I will resist and bleed more. Third, you can possibly stuff me in

This was heaven. "Hey, baby," Hugh said. Heaven just got canceled.

From a blueblood noble house. Only the blueblood man was allowed to enter. He sat in their kitchen, an older grizzled warrior with a sword on his waist, and laid it all out. Only bluebloods

A pissy werelion was rather difficult to live with.

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?

You will not pass! Roman thundered.
Great. Now he had decided he was Gandalf.

Kate's Speciality: Killing things, with much bloodshed. Talking trash, infuriating authority. Driving Beast Lord crazy.

Had he expected me to hump her leg?

He nodded. "Okay. We got it out in the open. Here it is. This is your moment to be angry at your own laziness and wallow in self-pity. A moment is all you get, because any minute Adam Pierce might set Houston on fire. Take a few minutes for your pity party. Would five be enough?"
"You're an asshole."
"Yes, but I'm a very well-trained asshole. I'm offering you the use of my expertise. So suck it up, get over this bump, and let's go. Are you with me?"
You know what? No: if he ever fell in love, it wouldn't be great romantic devotion. It would be an exercise in frustration and lust, and at the end of it his significant other would strangle him.

Why? Is the sight of my legs disturbing you, Derek?

He didn't do it because his religion told him to murder people. He didn't do it because he couldn't control himself. He did it out of pure selfish greed, and he didn't feel the least bit upset by it. I'd rather take on a demonic horde any day. The

But I would be damned if I'd let Curran intimidate me into caving in.
"I see. I retrieve the surveys the Pack let slip through its fingers, and in return you bring me here against my will, interrogate me, and threaten me with bodily harm. I'm sure the Order will be amused to learn the Pack kidnapped its representative."
Curran nodded thoughtfully. "Aha. Who's going to tell them?"
Um . . . Good question. He could kill me and nobody would ever find my body. The Order wouldn't even investigate that hard; they might just chalk it up to the flare-related craziness.
"I guess I'll just have to kick your ass and break out of here." I bravely drank the rest of the soup from the bowl, abandoning all propriety. Probably shouldn't have said that.
"In your dreams."
"We've never had our rematch. I might win." Probably shouldn't have said that, either.

I think I've been rather reasonable about this whole situation."
"How do you figure?"
"They are still breathing, aren't they?

How much are you lifting?"
"Seven hundred."
Alrighty then. I will just stand over here, out of your way, and hope you don't remember to kick my ass.
He grinned. "Wanna spot me?"
"No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?" I took a deep breath and barked, "No pain, no gain! That pain is just weakness leaving your body! Come on! Push! Push! Make that weight your bitch!

"Seven" title="Ilona Andrews Quotes: How much are you lifting?"
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So, regarding that tidbit about your having a fertile imagination when it comes to private activities," she said, fighting off anxiety. "Was it another lie?"
"Depends on how you look at it. It's not exactly a lie, and if you come with me to the Weird, you'll find that rumors of my 'creativity' when it comes to bed games with the opposite sex do exist. I started them myself and managed them very carefully. The trick with rumors is to feed them once in a while, so they don't die.

The monster licked his lips, long lines of whiskers twitching, and spoke in a deep growl. "Pretty, aren't I?" Curran. In midform. I broke from his gaze. "Adorable.

The lack of money is the root of all evil, Mr. Meadows.

Know what they say about abominations," Caldenia said. "We make the worst enemies." "Was that a threat?"" Dagorkun's eyes narrowed. "A warning." Caldenia folded her hands on her lap. "There is only one time to make threats: when you intend to negotiate. I do not.

William's eyes glowed like two amber coals. She met his gaze and flinched. No emotion reflected in the amber, only intelligence, cruel in a way the eyes of a hunting Mire cat were cruel. She saw no worry, no softness, no thoughts at all, only waiting. He seemed barely human now, not a man but some feral thing, knitted of darkness and biding his time for an opportunity to pounce.

I believe I've met your grandfather, the Bloody Butcher of Odar." "That's correct." "I remember now. A delightful man, wonderfully dry sense of humor." Arland blinked. "My grandfather has been called many names in his lifetime. Delightful was not one of them. He remembers you also. You tried to poison him." Caldenia waved her fingers. "I've tried to poison everyone at one time or another. Don't take it personally.

Just saying, you have to pull your own weight. A hot body and flirting will only get you so far.

If you prefer, I can acquire a windowless creeper van, and we can huddle in it and eat greasy take out.

Those who remain have forgotten they are alive. They think they have more in common with their fallen than with their enemy. Nothing could be further from the truth. I know the difference between life and death. Two live beings from the opposite boundaries of the galaxy have infinitely more in common with each other than the living and the dead from the same family.

Hugh got up. "Would love to stay and play doctor, love, but duty calls." He headed for the door.
Play doctor? "Jackass."
"Harpy."
"Thank you for saving me in the woods," she said to his back. "And for healing Alex."
"You're welcome. I'll see you downstairs in ten minutes."
A moment later Rook slipped into her room and held out his writing pad. Hugh needed help?
"No," Elara said. "He was terrifying.

I'm your father. That's the great privilege of parenthood; we can comment on whatever we want.

The universe shrank to Curran and his pain. I had to break him free. Nothing else mattered.

If they try, I'll eat them first.