Rachel Vincent Quotes

Alec licked his spoon, then set it on the table and popped his drink open. "Okay, I may be breaking some kind of girl bonding rule or something, but can I offer you a guy's perspective on this?"
I frowned, my spoon halfway to my mouth. "Is this gonna make me want to hit you?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. But it's the truth. Here goes: kissing back is an instinct. Unless the girl smells like a sewer or has tentacles feeling you up independently, a guy's first instinct is to kiss back. That's how it works. What's important is how long that kissing back lasted. So ... how long?

Wow," Liv said, when I dropped the mallet back into the drawer. "That looked like fun. I call dibs on the next over-the-top destruction of evidence.

Did he show himself?" Nash asked, and I glanced to my right to see him staring at my father, as fascinated as I was.
My dad nodded. "He was an arrogant little demon."
"So what happened?" I asked.
"I punched him."
For a moment, we stared at him in silence. "You punched the reaper?" I asked, and my hand fell from the strainer onto the edge of the sink.
"Yeah." He chuckled at the memory, and his grin brought out one of my own. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen my father smile. "Broke his nose.

I think we should all earn our place in the world. [ ... ] We owe the world something. We owe the world everything.

They'd had to empty their pockets and turn over Aunt Val's purse to the security guard. That way, I wouldn't be tempted to try to kill anyone with her lip gloss and her travel-size pack of tissues.

I hate to question
your dedication to the recruiting process, but it sounds
more like you ran up against a deadline and grabbed
the first sucker with the balls to call you out.

I'm sick of white walls and endings. The only thing that doesn't end in this place is me. I don't end. I just go on, and on, swinging that scythe glued to my hand. There's no rhythm to the strokes. Few see death coming, and even those who do see death don't see me. Because there is no me. Not anymore. Always the reaper, never the reaped. Soon that won't bother me. Soon I won't care. Emotional death follows physical death at a different pace for each reaper. I've put it off for more than two years, but it's inevitable.

Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination."
"No, this is an execution."
"The difference would be ... ?"
"Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.

I still loved Marc desperately and couldn't imagine life without him. Jace was ... something else. Something I could feel but couldn't articulate. Something I wanted, and hadn't been able to resist in my grief-weakened state. He was something that would have to wait.

Nervous sweat gathered on my palms, and for once I was glad I couldn't talk. I swallowed, my throat clenching around the scream scalding me from the inside. The gray haze was darker now, though no thicker. I could see through it easily, yet it tainted everything my terrified gaze landed on , as if the entire gym had been draped in a translucent cloud of smog. And things still moved on the edge of my vision, drawing my eye first in one direction, then another .

I would have given anything to be able to speak in that moment, not just to warn Emma -
because that was evidently a moot point -
but to ask Nash what the hell was going on. Could he see what I saw? More important, could they see us?

I'm saying that I can wait. For now. But when things get back to normal - assuming that ever happens - I want my shot. We can make each other happy, Faythe. I know it. And I'm done walking away from things I want just because they don't come easily. You're worth the work.

So instead of ignoring the pain, I called out to it, reaching for more. Pain is part of who I am. It's the defining characteristic of a Shifter's transformation. Pain is what I suffer from my enemies. It is what I deal out to those who break our laws. It is what I protect my charges from. Pain is what I inherited from fate, that fickle bitch who gave me a mouth and fists, then put me in a world that wanted only my womb and my cradled arms.

You thought you could figure that out online? Somehow I don't think hellions are much into social networking.

Give me a minute to get dressed."
"You're not dressed?"
I smiled in spite of myself at the lighthearted quility of his jest. Until my broken door began to move. "Jace!" I shouted, trying to keep from laughing as I vaulted off the bed and scrambled to stop him. He wasn't seriously trying to sneak a peek; if he had been, he wouldn't have made any noise. But if I let him get away with a joke today, he'd try it for real tomorrow.
Jace yelped as I ripped the door from his grasp and leaned it against the frame. Then he sulked, his eyes roaming just far enough south to see my tank top and shorts. "Liar!" he accused, the smile in his eyes ruining his pout. "You're not naked."
"I meant I wanted to change."
He grinned. "So, go ahead."
"Nice try.

Until then, I would pretend my ankle was made of steel, like some kind of bionic joint, and that I could feel no pain. I was superhuman. I could do anything.
But I'd take some Tylenol, just in case. Lots of Tylenol.

Pain is what I feed from when nothing else will nourish the noxious fury in my heart. It's what I cling to when everything else - everyone else - slips right between my grasping fingers.

Thanks' is the typical response when someone goes out of his way to supply you with new underwear so you can comfortably go into hiding because you're wanted on two counts of murder."
I found it hard to believe that particular scenario was common enough to have a typical response, but ...
"Thanks. And wow.

Did we ever find out for sure about the possible forked penis?

This isn't about you ... "
"Well, it should be!" he shouted, and I flinched. "Everything I do is about you, and I want the reverse to be true, too." I wiped more tears, my throat aching with words that would only make this worse.
"What, you need a reminder? That's what he was doing, right? And now you smell like him. You probably taste like him. You should taste like me ... "
He was on me before I could even catch my breath ...

When I was a child, all problems had ended with a single word from my father. A smile from him was sunshine, his scowl a bolt of thunder. He was smart, and generous, and honorable without fail. He could exile a trespasser, check my math homework, and fix the leaky bathroom sink, all before dinner. For the longest time, I thought he was invincible. Above the petty problems that plagued normal people.
And now he was gone.

Anger is great. It's powerful, when you need something to hold you up. Something to steel your spine. But in the dark, when you're alone with the truth, anger can't survive. The only thing that can live in the dark with you is fear.

Drea, why don't you turn a circle and give us a good look?" the talker said, his chest all puffed out, as if he'd had something to do with making me perform.
"Fuck you," I said, nice and clear, in spite of my fuller voice, so everyone could hear.
A couple of teens near the back of the crowd laughed, but the mothers scowled and covered their children's ears.
"Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen," the talker called with an amiable chuckle. "Most of our exhibits were born and raised in the carnival, and they hear a lot of rough language."
"Most of our handlers are full of shit," I added, drawing more laughter from the back of the crowd. "I learned to cuss the same place all of your kids did. In middle school.

I was fine with that. The very idea of Death knowing my name made my skin crawl. Even if this particular Death was only one of many, and almost too pretty to look at.

I wasn't going to toss off words like love and forever until I was sure. Until he was sure. Forever can be a very long time for a n=Bean sidhes, ans so far his track record looked more like the fifty-yard dash than the Boston marathon.

I sobbed again, and this time my father chuckled. "What's so funny?" I demanded, tilting my head when my cheek got his coat wet.
"You didn't cry when Kevin Mitchell broke your arm, or when you got stabbed in the hip the last time we were here. But boy troubles are still enough to reduce you to tears.

You're afraid the other tabbies will start thinking like me. You're afraid they'll start thinking, period! You wouldn't know what to do with a woman who has ideas of her own, and your vacant, slack-jawed stare right now proves it.

That's because your new tracker couldn't find his own dick in the dark.

Most aspects of my training didn't agree with me. There wasn't as much bossing around as I'd hoped for, and there was way too much following orders.

Wow. What would you do if I said I was angry?'
'I would make fire rain from the heavens to smite your enemies with the flames of our shared rage.

Crap. He was actually crying. I didn't know how to deal with a crying father. I barely knew how to deal with a normal one.

Why do they call it losing your virginity, anyway? It's Not Like I don't know where I left it."
"You'd be surprised how many people don't.

I'm not seeing a strong father-son relationship here, Alex. You two make Anakin and Luke look like Andy and Opie.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took several deep breaths, trying not to smell Jace in front of me, not to taste him on my lips. But it was useless. In that moment, Jace was everywhere. He was in my mind, he was in my heart, and he was in my memory. He smelled good. He tasted good. And the blissful aftershock still throbbing in my most sensitive places felt wonderful, when everything else in my life was an obstacle to be overcome.

It's your turn to talk," Tod said when several seconds had elapsed in pensive, angry silence from the hellion. "Negotiation is like playing tennis with words instead of balls. I thought you'd be better at this, considering your apparent lack of balls.

It was an addiction. A pointless, self-destructive addiction. But really, is there any other kind?

I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to catch him as a sort of late birthday present. Because your party...well, it kinda sucked, and you deserve to get something you really want for your birthday. Something other than death, horror, and mayhem.

How long until you have to go ... reap?" I whispered as my arms slid around his neck. Like we were dancing. Only we weren't moving, and there was no music.
"Don't know. Don't care."
"Won't you get in trouble if you miss something?"
"See my previous answer.

Regret couldn't fix what he's broken. Apologies couldn't bring back what he's lost. What we'd lost.

You'll have to give me a minute here. Gravity's a real bitch this morning.
Ian to Kori

Or has your dad changed his mind about that?"
Alex sneered. "My father never changes his mind."
"Oh, that's right. Your dad's the sort who'll bang his head into a brick wall over and over, convinced the wall will eventually collapse. But it isn't the bricks that are going to cave in, Alex. Fortunately you seem to have avoided that particular character flaw - you're messed up in an entirely different way.

She was destruction given form and purpose. Hers was an elegant savagery.

I went up on my toes to kiss him, and he groaned. "Do you really think this is appropriate on school grounds?"
"Nope." I wrapped my arms around his neck. "And I happen to know there isn't an appropriate thought running through your head right now."
"Or any other time." Tod pulled me close and held me so tight my ribs almost hut, but I didn't want him to let go. Ever.

I wanted more firsts with Tod. But all I had left was a handful of lasts.

Tod's eyes widened and his irises swirled in tight twists of blue. "Well, I don't see that I have much of a choice, considering that's part of Reaper Law."
"There's a Reaper Law?"
"Of course. 'A reaper is Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous ... '" He shrugged. "It gets boring after that. But this situation is clearly covered under the 'helpful' category."
I rolled my eyes. "I think that's the Boy Scout law."
"They took it from us. But they left out all the good stuff.

At least you don't need a prescription for tequila.

Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Jace said softly from my right.
"Call me that again, and I'll tell the whole Pride you sleep in Scooby-Doo underwear."
"I don't sleep in Scooby-Doo underwear. Hell, I don't sleep in any underwear.

I could have kissed you months ago, but it wouldn't have meant anything. I wished for you to see me. And want me. So ... did you mean it?"
"Yes," I said, and some unnamed tension inside me eased. "I see you, Tod.

It's not like I'm actually wishing for more dead cheerleaders. I'm just saying, if someone has to go ... "
Tod snorted. "I like her."
-Emma

I kind of felt like a new kind of princess. A warrior princess, ready to swing her battle-ax through hordes of the fashion-challenged and the socially unfortunate.

I don't have you, and without you, it feels like what I do have doesn't matter.

I frowned, gaping at the blond in disbelief. "You're the grim reaper?"
Tod glanced at me for the first time, his frown practically etched into place. "You were
expecting someone older? Taller? Maybe kind of gaunt and skeletal?"Contempt dripped from his words like acid.

I think I was born 'in to deep,' and bad things happen every day. Sometimes I have to stab hellions. Sometimes I have to frame friends for murder, and stab evil math teachers, and watch my best friend die. Again. We deal with it, then we move on.

Dad, I can count the number of normal school days I've had this year on one hand.

I was no suffragette, but I was pretty sure the he-can't-control-himself defense was a big, stinky load of horseshit.

Was I wearing my 'I'm done with my virginity, please get rid of it for me' T-shirt?

Yeah. She wants him back and has decided I'm in her way. But I have news for that little sleep-terrorist
it's going to take more than a couple of bad dreams to scare me off, so I hope she has something bigger up her sleeve.

I think some men are born with big egos, to make up for the lack of certain neessary equipment. Like a brain.

So, we wait until tomorrow night, and when you say the word, I cross over and haul you both out. Right? That's it?" "With any luck, yes." Luck? We were depending on luck? Nash is so screwed ...

Over the past six years, living and working in this city had turned the funny, charismatic girl I´d loved with every cell of my body into a jaded, hard-edged loner I still couldn´t look at without catching my breath.
I´d never felt more alive, watching Liv to prepare to charm-or maybe force- her way into some stranger´s apartment.
Olivia was a wire wound too tight, always about to snap, but she lived on excitement and thrived under pressure. Being with her was like holding a bomb in both hands, watching the numbers tick back toward zero. I knew she´d eventually explode, and this time it might kill me.
But it was hard to care about the potential for collateral damage when just being near her again felt so good.

It isn't healthy, how wrapped up they are in each other. Relationships like that burn bright, but when they burn out, they leave everyone blistered.

Tod's pale brows arched halfway up his forehead, and he looked suddenly, achingly wistful. "She knows not what she says ... "
Maybe not. But I was starting to get a pretty good idea ...

You're not lost, Kaylee. You can't ever be lost, because I'll always know where you are. And if I'm not there with you, I'm on my way, and nothing standing between us will be standing for very long.

Want me to come?" Tod ran his hand up my back, over my shirt. "If you keep her busy, I could convert the filing system from 'alphabetical' to 'most deserving of psychiatric help.'" He leaned closer, and I knew no one else would hear whatever came out of his mouth next. "I've been meaning to make some special notations in Nash's file anyway. Imagine the level of help he could receive if they knew the root of his recent academic decline was a deep-seated fear of the letter Q." I laughed. I couldn't help it. And though everyone else at the table looked curious, no one asked what Tod had said. They were finally starting to learn. "Thanks, but it's hard enough to take grief counseling seriously without you singing 'Living Dead Girl' at the top of your lungs behind the counselor's back.

What if I was the sexual equivalent of popcorn? Suitable for light snacking only?

Whoever said it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved was full of crap.

I wondered if Tod and I looked as cute together as she and my uncle looked. My opinion was no doubt biased, but I was pretty sure we were damn near lethally adorable.

I'm not going to lose you, Kaylee. No matter what I have to do, or whom I have to fight. Even if that means quashing your vexing tendencies toward self-sacrifice." Tod said.
"Did you just say 'vexing'?" Nash asked.
Tod scowled. "Nothing else seemed to fit. I stand by my word choice.

Levi will kill me the minute he sees me, and I don't trust Madeline. There's something in her eyes ... "
"I believe that's integrity and dedication in her job."
"Yeah. It's disturbing.

I had no desire to hear another woman tell my boyfriend how hot he was. If I wanted him to know, I'd damn well tell him myself.

But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.

I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.

Did you think you could dump me, and I'd bounce back to her and miraculously be happy? I'm not a Ping-Pong ball. You can't just swat me back and forth and expect me to be content wherever I land. If Tod dumped you tomorrow, would you come back to me?

Okay, go ahead and fill these out," Jeff said, standing as he glanced over the growing crowd in the club. "When you're done, we'll go back to my brother's office and you can show us what you've got." He grinned. "Normally we'd do that first, but something tells me you know exactly how to keep a man's attention."
Indeed I did. Get a tight grip on his balls. A man's attention never wandered far from his crotch, especially when it was in mortal jeopardy.

I don't even like regular plants. Except for corsages and long-stemmed roses ... and those only hurt when they don't show up.

Okay, time to get serious. I let my smile fade slowly and lowered my pitch, as no human woman could have. "I'm not joking this time. If I see it, it's mine, and you won't get it back at the end of the school year." I growled, deep and long, savoring the feel of the vibrations in my throat, as if the sound alone could save me. It wasn't quite a cat's growl but it was damn close. And it was his last warning.
Miguel dismissed my threat with an easy smile, and my stomach clenched. Oh, yeah, Faythe. You have Puss shaking in his boots, all right.

You already said that," Sabine said, folding the wrapper back from her burger. "You said it a lot, actually. Which supports my theory that apologies are basically pointless. They don't fix anything, right? That's why I rarely bother.

Don't judge your future based on others' mistakes.

Even before the withdrawal sets in, you'll do anything to get that feeling back, because as long as it lasts, nothing's wrong. It doesn't matter if you forget something, or lose something. Or if you fail someone. Nothing's wrong and everything feels good, and you never want it to end.

So, 'reaper' is really just a nice word for 'covert pervert?' Is that what you're saying?

I feel like my life is a book, and someone turned the page before I was ready, and now I can't follow the story.

Have you and Nash both lost your minds? This is really a very simple concept
one that you taught me! Hellion equals evil. Period!
-Kaylee to Tod

He went down like a cheerleader after prom.

Why do I always have to be the one who says 'stop'?" I demanded, my voice little more than a moan.
"You don't. In fact, at this point I'm considering a petition to that word stricken from the English language." His grin was almost lazy, the gleam in his eyes an effortless challenge. "If I did, would you sign?

Should I assume the lure is a certain attractive young dead man?

I have choices," I insisted, refusing to break eye contact. "We both do. I may have to make mine carefully, and make a few compromises along the way, but I have a choice. I choose you.

But all I said, as I dug a five from my pocket to pay for my soda, was, "You have a friend?" Tod scowled. "Well, I wouldn't call him a friend according to the traditional definition, but in the sense that he imposes on me constantly and isn't afraid to point out my flaws, I'd say he qualifies." "Sounds more like a cousin.

It's not the amount of time that matters, Nina. It's what you do with it.

She wasn't feeling nothing. She was feeling too much. She was blocking it all out. That was a survival skill, and her still-beating heart was proof that it worked.

Your mortal attachments are like a puppet's strings," Avari said, both hands clasped casually at his back. "One need only pluck the right cord to make the puppet dance." His smile was almost creepier than his threats. "Dance, reaper!

Ethan was loyal and funny and protective. When we were little, he was the brother most likely to make me cry - and mostly likely to wipe away my tears.

His rage fed my reckless euphoria. He couldn't stand having his authority challenged, and that made him easy to manipulate.

I was in chains, but he was losing control.

The moment the door opened I knew an ass-kicking was inevitable. Whether I'd be giving it or receiving it was still a bit of a mystery.

History is written by the victor, and if the elderly don't pass down their memories, eventually there won't be anyone else left alive who knows how the war was really fought.

She won't serve her dish cold," the oracle mumbled, almost with giddy joy as chill bumps rose all over her skin. "And two graves won't be near enough...

Can't clean up after you anymore, baby brother, so don't punk out. Make it count.

So what did you do?" I repeated.
"I hit Sophie on the back of the head with a universal remote. This thing was huge. It's like a cell phone from the '90s."
"You were supposed to get rid of Avari without hurting the host!"
"Yeah, I didn't get that memo. Maybe next time you should be a little more specific when you boss me around while I'm saving your ass. Though, frankly, this whiny little shrew is lucky she only has one bump, 'cause she's had this coming for a while."
-Kaylee and Tod

So, you reap souls and crush hopes? Is that part of the job, or just a service you offer for free?

Because the alternative sucks!

He took both of my hands, twisting to face me more fully on the flattened box beneath us, and again the colors in his irises seemed to pulse with my heartbeat.

So ... will you stay with me until it's over? Please?"
"Kaylee, I would do anything for the girl who granted my dying wish.