Emma Says To Galen Quotes

I nod"Maybe.But I'm pretty sure mom won't consent to a field trip across the country with my hot boyfriend.Especially not back to Florida."I clamp my mouth shut so fast my teeth should be chipped. He grins."You think I'm hot?"
"my mom thinks you are." Except, mom's not the one blushing right now. ~ Anna Banks

Nekhbet shrieked in alarm. I turned to see what was going on. Immediately, I wished I could burn my eyes out of my head.

Liz made a gagging sound. "Lord, no! That's wrong!"

"Agh!" Emma shouted, in perfect baboon-speak. "Make him stop!"

Bes had indeed put on his ugly outfit.He climbed onto the roof of the limo and stood there, legs planted, arms akimbo, like Superman- except with only the underwear. For those faint of heart I wont go into detail, but Bes, all of a meter tall, was showing off his disgusting physique- his potbelly, hairy limbs, awful feet, gross flabby bits- and wearing only a blue Speedo. Imagine the worst looking person you've ever seen on a public beach- the person for whom swimwear should be illegal. Bes looked worse than that.

I wasn't sure what to say except: "Put some clothes on!"

Bes laughed= the sort of guffaw that says Ha-ha! I'm amazing!
"Not until they leave," he said. "Or I'll be forced to scare them back to the Duat."

"This is not your affair, dwarf god!" Nekhbet snarled, averting her eyes from his horribleness. "Go away!"

"These children are under my protection," Bes insisted

"I don't know you," I said. "I never met you before today."

"Nonsense. You expressly asked for my protection."

"I didn't ask for the Speedo Patrol!"

Bes leaped off the limo and landed in front of my circle placing himself between Babi and me. The dwa ~ Rick Riordan

Look at those legs," Noah says. "Look at that bone structure. Look at those eyes, you could get fucking lost in them." "You need Google Maps to find your way out of my eyes," Gideon says, executing an elaborate turn before catwalking back. ~ Emma Mills

Are you ready to put the 'fun' in Fall Fun Fest?" he says as I slap his palm.
"I can at least put the 'trip' in 'Triple F.'" A pause. "By being clumsy, I mean. Not by, like, sharing drugs with the group." Three sets of eyes are on me, and I can't stop myself from talking. "I don't have any drugs. In case you were worried. Or, in case you were … expecting me to have drugs.…"
Gideon grins. ~ Emma Mills

Your mom probably wouldn't be too happy if you're dating someone who quit school."
I laugh. "Nope, don't think so. But I do think she likes you."
"Why do you say that?" he says, cocking his head at me.
"When I called her, she told me to tell you good morning. And then she told me you were 'a keeper.'" She also said he was hot, which is a ten and a half on the creep-o-meter.
"She won't think that when I start failing out of all my classes. I've missed too much school to give a convincing performance in that aspect."
"Maybe you and I could do an exchange," I say, cringing at how many different ways that could sound.
"You mean besides swapping spit?"
I'm hyperaware of the tickle in my stomach, but I say, "Gross! Did Rachel teach you that?"
He nods, still grinning. "I laughed for days."
"Anyway, since you're helping me try to change, I could help you with your schoolwork. You know, tutor you. We're in all the same classes together, and I could really use the volunteer hours for my college application."
His smile disappears as if I had slapped him. "Galen, is something wrong?"
He unclenches his jaw. "No."
"It was just a suggestion. I don't have to tutor you. I mean, we'll already be spending all day together in school and then practicing at night. You'll probably get sick of me." I toss in a soft laugh to keep it chit-chatty, but my innards feel as though they're cartwheeling.
"Not likely."
Our eyes lock. Search ~ Anna Banks

I hope you were going to come pry your sister off my back," Paca clips as Rayna swims up. "She's quite rude."
Galen throws Rayna a look, to which she lifts her chin. "Paca and her pudgy father over there are full of whale dung," Rayna informs her brothers.
"Rayna," Grom barks. "Mind your manners."
Rayna lifts her chin even higher. Here we go. "Paca is a fraud, Grom," she says. "You can't mate with her. Sorry to ruin your ceremony. Let's go, Galen."
Paca gasps as Jagen swims up to the party, almost stuttering in his fury. "You little ... little stonefish! How dare you insult my daughter?"
Galen grabs Rayna's arm. "What did you do?" he hisses.
She jerks her arm away and gives him a superior look. "If Paca has the Gift of Poseidon, I have the Gift of Triton. Don't ask me what it is though, because I don't have a clue."
"Rayna, enough!" Grom says, grabbing her other arm. "Apologize. Right now."
"Apologize for what? Telling the truth? Sorry, not feeling it. ~ Anna Banks

Were you in love with Emma?" I ask.
"I was hard-core obsessed," he says without thinking about it. "Not in love."
"What's the difference?"
He's about to throw a stone at ta yard light but stops. "Prison," he says, and puts the stone in his pocket. ~ Cath Crowley

You mean you to tell me you don't eat fish?" Rayna barks. "I told you, Galen! How many times did I tell you?"
"Rayna, be quiet," he says without looking at her.
"We're wasting our time here!" She slams her fork down.
"Rayna, I said-"
"Oh, I heard what you said. And it's about time you listened to someone else for a change."
Now would be a good time to blackout. Or ten minutes ago, before they unveiled the seafood surprise. But I don't even feel remotely dizzy. Or tired. In fact, Rayna's ranting seems to be igniting a weird charge in the room, sparking some sort of hidden energy all around us. So when Galen stands so fast his chair falls over, I'm not surprised. I stand, too.
"Leave, Rayna. Right now," he grinds out.
When Rayna stands, Toraf does, too. He keeps his expression neutral. I get the feeling he's used to outbursts like these. "You're just using her as a distraction from your real responsibilities, Galen," she spits. "And now you've risked us all. For her."
"You were aware of the risks before you came, Rayna. If you feel exposed, leave," Galen says coolly.
Responsibilities? Exposed? I'm waiting for someone to admit they're part of some violet-eye cult, and I didn't make initiation. "I guess I don't understand," I say.
"Oh, well, that's a real shocker, isn't it?" Rayna says. ~ Anna Banks

Toraf nudges him from his thoughts. "You know whose advice I need?" He nods toward the gigantic house behind them. "Rachel's."
"Actually, you don't," Galen says, standing. He reaches a hand down to help his friend.
"Why's that?"
"Rachel's expertise lies more along the lines of communication. You won't need to worry about communication when Rayna finds out you're already mated."
"We're what?" They both turn to Rayna who has stopped mid-stride in the sand. The emotions on her face change from surprise to full-blown murderous rage.
"You're gonna pay a special price for that, minnow!" Toraf calls before he hits the water.
Galen grins as Rayna slices through the waves in blood-thirsty pursuit. Then he heads for the house to talk to Rachel. ~ Anna Banks

I've got the flask I stole from Elliot down in my locker," Annie says.

Time: three minutes, forty-two seconds. And the record of nine minutes, seven seconds continues to hold strong.

"You want a nip before you head over?" Annie offers sweetly.

She's a good friend - like Helen to Jane in Jane Eyre. As kind as she is pretty.

I shake my head. Then I pull my big-girl knickers up all the way to my neck. "I'll let you know how it goes ~ Emma Chase

I need to tell you a story.'

What about?

Zachariah, Zachariah, my foundling boy. 'A boy. A boxer, a fighting man. A brother. No. About brothers, sisters. Foundlings, laid-in-the-streets. Fights, fighting. A boy, it all begins with the boy. My love. A wolf. Peter and the Wolf! Oh dear! I am very crazy! Let me - I must tell you this story.'

Why?

'I'm frightened.'

Of?

'Fractals. Patterns.'

Ah, says the fish, looking at Rachel with his wise eyes. Chaos!

'Yes,' thinks Rachel. 'Chaos. Fearful symmetry.'

Go home, says the fish, flipping over, flashing in light, and diving down into the great blue sea. ~ Emma Richler

Logan?"
I'm so distracted by my musings, I miss her speaking my name, and for a bit, I don't say anything at all.
"Oh well, it'll grow back," she says, embarrassment flushing beneath her cheeks. "Wearing a hat for the next six months won't be so bad."
I force the gravel from my throat. "Beautiful."
Ellie's eyes flick back to mine. "What?"
I hold her gaze, my tone deliberate and sure. "You look beautiful, Ellie."
Her smile is small and seeking. "Really?"
I don't take my eyes off her. I wouldn't - even if I could. "Prettiest lass I've ever seen. ~ Emma Chase

Did you hear what I said, Princess Cheater-Cheater-Whale-Dung-Eater? Show my brother your pathetic Gift."
Paca's eyes are full of murder. She looks at Grom. "Do something about your sister. You're going to let her insult me right in front of you? Is this how I can expect to be treated when I'm mated to you?"
Rayna laughs. "You bet your sweet-"
"Rayna!" Galen says. "Enough!"
She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything else. Galen turns to Paca. Trying to sound apologetic, he says, "Please excuse my sister's lack of ... "
"Sanity?" Paca offers icily.
Galen smiles. Sort of. ~ Anna Banks

I've downed two shots and a tumbler of whiskey by the time Racer and Tucker show up. The House of Reardon, our go-to bar, isn't very far from where we all live, kind of in the middle, but given my race to get some alcohol into my system, I'm a few drinks in already.

"I brought reinforcements," Racer says as he tosses a box of Swiss Rolls in front of me. I can always count on Racer to bring Little Debbie snacks, our sacred lover. "Your text made it seem like you needed to suckle at Debbie's teet tonight."

"I do." I rip open the box, tear open a wrapper, and pop an entire roll in my mouth in seconds.

"I guess so," Racer says, a little astonished.

"Tucker close?"

"Right here," Tucker says, pulling up a chair next to me at the bar. He pats my shoulder and tosses a box of Zebra Cakes in front of me. My boys know me well.

"Zebra Cakes? Dude, I brought Swiss Rolls. Zebra Cakes are piss when it comes to times like this."

"It's all I had left. Emma's been eating all my Nutty Bars."

"Why even buy Zebra Cakes? You know that frosting turns into a paste."

From the corner of my eye, I see Tucker run his hand over his face. "Emma got them. When she shops, she literally doesn't consider which ones she buys; it's just a sweep of her arm over the shelf. Can't complain about that."

"I guess you can't. ~ Meghan Quinn

One is a child when one has a child. No one says, 'You will never be the same again.' Which is the truth! And we're all supposed to be happy all the time. What is that about? ~ Emma Thompson

Soon, droves of children start to show up, keeping us rather busy. We start tallying up the number of Trolls, Batmans, Lego men, and princesses we see. The most popular costume? Batman and Superwoman with the fabrics and accessories varying from child to child. But my favorite so far is the girl who dressed as Little Debbie, but then again, I may be biased.

"I think she might be my new favorite," Emma says as a little girl dressed as a nurse walks away.

"That's because you're a nurse, but you can't play favorites," I say, reminding Emma of the rules.

She levels with me. "This coming from the guy whose favorite child was dressed as Little Debbie."

"Come on." I lean back in my chair and motion to my head. "She had the rim of blue on her hat. That's attention to detail."

"And good fucking parenting," Tucker chimes in, and we clink our beer bottles together.

Amelia chuckles next to me as Emma shakes her head. "Ridiculous. What about you, Amelia? What costume has been your favorite so far?"

"Hmm, it's been a tough competition. There has been some real winning costumes and some absolute piss-poor ones." She shakes her head. "Just because you put a scarf around your neck and call yourself Jack Frost doesn't mean you dressed up."

"Ugh, that costume was dumb."

"It shouldn't be referred to as a costume, but that's beside the point." I like how much Amelia is getting into this little prete ~ Meghan Quinn

The typical Anarchist, then, may be defined as follows: A man perceptible by the spirit of revolt under one or more of its forms, - opposition, investigation, criticism, innovation, - endowed with a strong love of liberty, egoistic or individualistic, and possessed of great curiosity, a keen desire to know. These traits are supplemented by an ardent love of others, a highly developed moral sensitiveness, a profound sentiment of justice, and imbued with missionary zeal." To the above characteristics, says Alvin F. Sanborn, must be added these sterling qualities: a rare love of animals, surpassing sweetness in all the ordinary relations of life, exceptional sobriety of demeanor, frugality and regularity, austerity, even, of living, and courage beyond compare.[2] ~ Emma Goldman

This was possibly the first time anyone had used the phrase "too cerebral" when describing Pinky's advertising. Because someone somewhere in the Pinky's marketing scheme had made the brilliant connection that sub sandwiches are vaguely phallic. And from that, all the penis-related Pinky sub campaigns were born.

Like the commercial where you see the guy standing from the back, and then a woman in front of him, and she says, "Nine inches????" in this insane lusty voice, and then they pan to the side and show he's holding a Pinky sub right at groin height? It's the worst. It is literally the worst. I'm a cog in the world's dumbest corporate sandwich machine. ~ Emma Mills

You're sure you want to do this," Galen says, eyeing me like I've grown a tiara of snakes on my head.
"Absolutely." I unstrap the four-hundred-dollar silver heels and spike them into the sand. When he starts unraveling his tie, I throw out my hand. "No! Leave it. Leave everything on."
Galen frowns. "Rachel would kill us both. In our sleep. She would torture us first."
"This is our prom night. Rachel would want us to enjoy ourselves." I pull the thousand-or-so bobby pins from my hair and toss them in the sand. Really, both of us are right. She would want us to be happy. But she would also want us to stay in our designer clothes.
Leaning over, I shake my head like a wet dog, dispelling the magic of hairspray. Tossing my hair back, I look at Galen.
His crooked smile almost melts me where I stand. I'm just glad to see a smile on his face at all. The last six months have been rough. "Your mother will want pictures," he tells me.
"And what will she do with pictures? There aren't exactly picture frames in the Royal Caverns." Mom's decision to mate with Grom and live as his queen didn't surprise me. After all, I am eighteen years old, an adult, and can take care of myself. Besides, she's just a swim away.
"She keeps picture frames at her house though. She could still enjoy them while she and Grom come to shore to-"
"Okay, ew. Don't say it. That's where I draw the line."
Galen laughs and takes off his shoes. I forget all about Mom and Grom ~ Anna Banks

You'll feel better after you do a mile or two.'
'Why?' From her prone position, Emma threw up her hands. 'Who says? Who decided that people all of a sudden have to do miles every damn day, or that twisting themselves into unnatural shapes is good for them? I think it's the people who sell this hideous equipment, and the ones who design all the cute little outfits like the one you're wearing. ~ Nora Roberts

Emma says her illness was a kind of self-hypnosis which obliterated the outside world, a way of escaping life and reducing its proportions to what she could manage. ~ Carol Lee

Satisfied with my plan, I wrap a towel around my head genie-style, then wrap another one around my body. I open the bathroom door. And almost jump out of my skin. Galen is sitting on my bed. I've really got to start locking my balcony doors.
He looks mad and happy at the same time. It's only been twenty-four hours since I've seen him, but even sleep deprived and grouchy, I'm excited that he's back.
"I think your dad was a Half-Breed," he says. He frowns. "And I never told Rayna I would teach her how to drive. ~ Anna Banks

Marry me, Rachel.'

'Not yet.'

'Tomorrow, Rachel. Marry me.'

'Maybe tomorrow.'

'There is no common blood between us. Say it,' pleads Zachariah.

'There is no common blood between us,' murmurs Rachel.

'I am not your brother.'

'I know.'

He traces her face with his swollen fingers, across the brow bones and down the zygomatics, and along the jaw from earlobe to chin, sweeping away the brine as he goes.

'I am your Wolff,' he says.

'And I am your Wolff,' she replies.

Let the day begin. ~ Emma Richler

After that, we don't talk, instead we get hammered. Shot after shot we down, chasing each one with a Little Debbie snack. Before we know it, we're hanging on to the bar counter floating around in a sugar and alcohol coma, just the way I like it.

"There's my girl," Racer shouts as he topples off his stool and onto the floor, laughing hysterically. Georgie stops in her tracks and looks over at Emma, who's standing next to her, both holding two boxes of Little Debbie snacks each.

"Emmmmmmmma," Tucker drags out, waving his glass in the air. "You brought the snacks."

"Oh, Jesus," Emma mutters as she approaches us.

I point to my mouth and say, "Feed me. Daddy needs sugar."

Racer is beside me, tangled in the pegs of his bar stool, still laughing. "Did you bring Oatmeal Pies, George? Please tell me you have the pies."

"Uh, I think you've had enough for tonight," she says, looking down at her boyfriend.

"Never!" Racer struggles to get up and finally knocks the chair over to free himself. "Fucking bitch chair, digging into me with its claws." Talking to the stool directly he says, "I'm taken, warm someone else's ass."

"He's going to propose, chair, leave him alone," Tucker announces, causing me to cringe.

"Dude, don't say it out loud." I punch Tucker in the shoulder. "Georgie is right there." All three of us turn to Georgie, who's shaking her head in humor. Hopefully.

"I'll tak ~ Meghan Quinn

Maybe there are people who love someone so much that when they lose them, they never want to be with anyone else again. But maybe there are people who love someone so much that it makes them want to find that kind of love again. Maybe they loved them so much, they can't live without that kind of love in their life. And maybe … it's a kind of love where you don't have to say it. Where they're such a part of you and you're such a part of them that it doesn't need to be said. Because you already know."

When I glance up at Gabe again, he has his eyes on me.

"Yeah," he says. "Maybe."

"I like that," Vera says with a small smile. "I think it must be like that."

I think about that kind of love as we increase in altitude. How maybe it doesn't just stand for romance - maybe it works for friendship, too. Maybe there's a kind of friend love that opens you up … Maybe you didn't have a place for it within you before, but once it finds you out, crawls inside, and makes space for itself, you can't live without it ever again.

I look over at Vera, and I think about what she said to me the first day we had lunch together: They never really say that they love each other, but it's so freaking obvious. Like, Sherlock would straight-up kill for Watson.

"Just so you know," I say, "I would straight-up kill for you. ~ Emma Mills

I think it's time to go ahead and start, don't you? We don't want them to have enough time to make a trip back to shore with her."
Galen swims to within an inch of my face. His lazy grin sends a thousand butterflies whipping up a tornado in my stomach. "Start what? The rescue, or the rest of our lives together?"
Just the words make my heart jump, let alone the look he gives me when he says it. We haven't had much time to talk about what all this means for us, but at least I know we can be together. On our own terms, in our own time. Finally. "Both," I breathe.
"This is not the time to be all mushy," Rayna calls from below us. "I swear you two are expert time wasters. So inconsiderate."
Galen winks at me and dives to his sister.
"Wait," I call to him. He stops. "I just wanted to say, I like your big fin. I think it's sexy." Which is the truth. Now t's more than double the size of any other Syrena. I know he's self-conscious about it; he thinks it makes him stand out more. What Galen doesn't realize is that he already stood out. He was already special. This new fin doesn't change anything. Well, except for making me hotter for him than I already was.
"Really?" Galen says.
I nod and blow him a kiss. By his confused expression, he has no idea what I'm doing. My Syrena human ambassador still has a lot to learn about the intimate details of the human world. And I'll be happy to assist him with that. ~ Anna Banks

Nice shack," I tell him.
"Trade you."
"Any day."
"Really? You like it?" He seems genuinely pleased.
"What's not to like?"
He stands back and studies it as if for the first time. He nods. "Huh. Good to know."
We climb the three steps on the porch, but I grab his arm as he reaches for the door handle. The contact sends heat through my body, roasting me to the core. "Wait."
He pauses mid-motion and stares at my hand. "What? Is something wrong? You're not changing your mind are you?"
"No. I just...have to tell you something."
"What?"
I forced a nervous laugh. "Well, the good news is, you don't have to worry about me rejecting you anymore."
He shakes his head. "That is good news. But you say it like it's not."
I take a deep breath. Where is a good lightning bolt when you need one? Because even if I take a hundred deep breaths, this will still be humiliating...
"Emma?"
"I told my mom we were dating," I blurt. There. Doesn't that feel better? Nope. Nope, it doesn't.
While his smile surprises me, it mostly mesmerizes me beyond rational thought. "Are you kidding?" he says.
I shake my head. "It's the only thing she would believe. So now...now you have to pretend that we're dating if you come to my house. But don't worry, you don't ever have to go over there again. And in a few days, I'll pretend that we broke up."
He laughs. "No, you won't. I told her the same thing."
"Shut. Up."
"Why? What'd ~ Anna Banks

While Olivia takes care of business, I approach my brother, leaning against the wall beside him, arms crossed.

"Congratulations," he says, sulking. "Bastard."

"Thank you."

"Olive looks gorgeous. Prick."

"She does. I'll tell her you said so."

"I'm really happy for you. Wanker."

I laugh. "It's going to be all right, Henry."

He drinks from his flask, flinching as he swallows. "Easy for you to say. Prat."

I squeeze his shoulder. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

He shrugs. "Probably. Eventually. Of course I will. When I'm sober."

"Any idea when that may be?"

"Henry, there you are!" our grandmother clucks from across the room. "We must speak about the memo I sent you…"

Henry lifts his flask and shakes his head. "Not today. ~ Emma Chase

Everyone is wondering where the Royal twins are, since they happened to miss Grom's kingship ceremony. At least I had the good sense to hold a private mating ceremony-in view of Rayna's absence and all."
Galen scowls. "He's right. We need to go home for a few days. Our father isn't as protective as your mother, but he likes to see us once in a while. Especially Rayna. She's spoiled."
Rayna nods. "It's true. I am. Besides, I need to get our mating-seal overturned."
"Aw, princess, I thought we had a good time today. You know I'll make sure you're still spoiled. Why would you want to unseal us?" Toraf says. She lets him take some of her load but turns up her nose at his attempt to kiss her cheek.
Galen ignores their marriage meltdown. ~ Anna Banks

Anarchism rouses man to rebellion against this black monster. Break your mental fetters, says Anarchism to man, for not until you think and judge for yourself will you get rid of the dominion of darkness, the greatest obstacle to all progress. ~ Emma Goldman

I'm not possessive over you, Maddie," he says into my ear. "I'm protective, and there's a difference. I'd never try to control you or tell you what you can and can't do, but I know every guy in this frat house wants to be me right now-especially Kyle. And you know why? It's because you're so fucking beautiful." My breath catches in my throat. "They'll all want you, but I have you, and there's not a chance I'm gonna risk one of them taking you from me, all right? So yes, Angel, yes, you are fucking mine! ~ Emma Hart

Emma, I came out here to tell you that you don't have to mate with Grom."
I raise a brow. "Uh, I was never going to mate with Grom."
"What I mean is, Grom is mating with someone else who has the gift of Poseidon. Which means that-"
"I don't have to mate with Grom," I finish for him.
"That's what I just said."
"I mean, I don't have to feel like I've let the entire species of Syrena go extinct because I won't mate with Grom."
He grins. "Exactly."
"But that doesn't change what I am-a Half-Breed. You still can't be with me, can you?"
He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, thoughtful. "The law forbids it right now. But I think if we give it time, we could get it overturned somehow. And I'm not going anywhere until I do."
He turns us toward the SUV, stopping to retrieve my heels from the side of the road. He helps me in the passenger seat of the Escalade, then hands me my shoes.
"Thank you," I tell him as he walks around to the driver's side.
"It's a little late to blush," he says, strapping in.
"I don't think I'll ever stop blushing."
"I really hope not," he says, shutting his door. Taking my face into both hands, he pulls me to him again. His lips brush mine, but I want more. Sensing my intention, he puts his hand over mine and the seat belt I'm trying to unsnap. "Emma," he says against my lips. "I've missed you so much. But we can't. Not yet."
I'm not trying to do that, I just want to get in a better position t ~ Anna Banks

Although it's just as likely to be a son," Carla says. I've missed some earlier part of her speech, and I don't know what she's talking about. "You're lucky you have a daughter. They say sons steal from their old mothers. It was in a report I saw on the news." "But I do have a son," I say. "Millions of pounds, stolen every year." "I don't have millions of pounds," I say. "And all kinds of antiques. Georgian, Victorian." "I don't have any antiques, either." Oh, this is no good. What sort of a conversation ~ Emma Healey

Do you realize what a beacon you've become?"

"A - I beg your pardon?"

"A beacon of hope," says the woman, smiling. "As soon as we announced we'd be doing this interview, our viewers started calling in, e-mails, text messages, telling us you're an angel, a talisman of goodness . . ."

Ma makes a face. "All I did was I survived, and I did a pretty good job of raising Jack. A good enough job."

"You're very modest."

"No, what I am is irritated, actually."

The puffy-hair woman blinks twice.

"All this reverential - I'm not a saint." Ma's voice is getting loud again. "I wish people would stop treating us like we're the only ones who ever lived through something terrible. I've been finding stuff on the Internet you wouldn't believe."

"Other cases like yours?"

"Yeah, but not just - I mean, of course when I woke up in that shed, I thought nobody'd ever had it as bad as me. But the thing is, slavery's not a new invention. And solitary confinement - did you know, in America we've got more than twenty-five thousand prisoners in isolation cells? Some of them for more than twenty years." Her hand is pointing at the puffy-hair woman. "As for kids - there's places where babies lie in orphanages five to a cot with pacifiers taped into their mouths, kids getting raped by Daddy every night, kids in prisons, whatever, making carpets till they go blind - ~ Emma Donoghue

You've been shot," she tells Rachel.
"You shot me, you crazy bit - "
"We don't have time for the ER protocol crap, Mom," I cut in. "She knows she's been shot. She's alert. Help. Her."
Mom nods. She looks at Rachel's clenched fist where it's balled against her lower stomach. "I'm sorry I shot you. I need to look at that. Please."
Rachel gives her The Stank Eye. Rachel is very good at The Stank Eye.
"I'm a nurse, remember?" Mom says, her voice dripping with impatience. "I can help you."
Rachel inhales and eases her hand away from her stomach, but I can't bring myself to look at it so I just watch Mom's face to maybe gauge how bad the wound is. I imagine dark blood and entrails and…
"What the…?" Mom gasps. As an ER nurse, Mom's seen a lot of things. But by her expression, she's never seen this. I'm thinking it must be way serious. Also, I'm thinking I might throw up.
Until Rachel slaps a handcuff around Mom's wrist. "I'm sorry, Nalia. I hope you understand." Then she clinks the other end of the cuff around her own wrist. I steal a glance at Rachel's very clean, very intact, very non-bloody-entrails T-shirt.
Rachel is a smart woman.
Mom lunges for her, hands aiming for her throat. Rachel pulls some karate-chop-move thing and slams Mom against the door behind her. "Knock it off, hon. I don't want to really hurt you."
"You…you told Galen you'd been shot," I stammer. "I heard you tell him that. Why would you lie to him?"
Ra ~ Anna Banks

They know we're here." He turns to Galen. "What do you think?"
Galen scratches the back of his neck. "It's a trap."
Toraf rolls his eyes. "Oh, you think so?" He shakes his head. "I'm asking if you think Musa is in on it."
Galen is not very familiar with Musa. He's only talked to her a handful of times, and that was when he was very young. Still, out of all the Archives who seemed to support Jagen and his monumental act of treason, Musa's face does not come to mind. "Would she be?"
Toraf shrugs. Woden scowls. "With much respect, Highness, Musa is an Archive. She will not forsake her vows to remain neutral."
It takes all of Galen's willpower to bite his tongue. Woden is still naïve enough to believe that all the Archives are of a pure and unbiased mind. That they do not get tangled up in emotions such as greed, ambition, and envy. Did Woden attend the same tribunal I did?
Toraf slaps Woden on the back. "Then you don't mind going first?"
The Poseidon Tracker visibly swallows. "Oh. Of course not. I'm happy to-"
"Oh, let's get on with this," Galen says, snatching the spear from Woden's unsuspecting grasp. This seems to embarrass the young Tracker. Galen doesn't have time for embarrassment.
"Yes, let's," Toraf says. "Before the humans get those disgusting wrinkles on their skin." He nudges Woden. "It's probably the most horrific thing I've ever seen. And I've seen lots of things."
It's the first time Galen realizes that Woden's nerv ~ Anna Banks

Getting tired already, minnow?" Toraf taunts as he wraps strong arms around Galen's neck in a choke hold.
Galen promptly flips him forward and onto his back. Toraf bounces once with the force. "You must have been drinking salt water," Galen returns, "to have delusions like that."
Toraf kicks Galen's legs out from under him, and the scuffle is taken to the floor. Just when I wonder how long this can really go on, the older Syrena steps into the dining room and confirms his identity with the authority in his voice. "That's enough. Get up."
Toraf scrambles to his feet and steps away from Galen, who reluctantly complies. "Yes, Highness. Sorry, Highness," Toraf says, breathless. There is not a small amount of shame on Toraf's face.
In fact, even Galen looks conscience stricken. "Apologies, King Antonis," he says quickly. "I didn't see you there."
King Antonis. Mom's dad. My grandfather. Holy!
Antonis lifts his chin, satisfied. "I didn't think so."
Mom steps over the dish debris and embraces her dad. "Thank you for interrupting. It was getting a tad boring. It was obvious no one would win."
Mom is such a dude sometimes. Grom winks at Galen, who shrugs. ~ Anna Banks