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J.R. Ward

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“You so need to lighten up about that potato-launcher incident," Butch said. Phury rolled his eyes and eased back in the banquette. "You broke my window." "Of course we did. V and I were aiming for it." "Twice." "Thus proving that he and I are outstanding marksmen.”

“The front door flew open, and Mary shot out of the house, jumping off the porch, not even bothering with the steps to the ground. She ran over the frost-laden grass in her bare feet and threw herself at him, grabbing on to his neck with both arms. She held him so tightly his spine cracked. She was sobbing. Bawling. Crying so hard her whole body was shaking. He didn't ask any questions, just wrapped himself around her. I'm not okay," she said hoarsely between breaths. "Rhage...I'm not okay.”

“You know,” he said, “this is why I love you so much.” Her tone was heartbreakingly warm. “What do you mean?” You don’t ask me to go inside because it’s cold. You just want to make it easier for me to be where I want to stand.”

“All of us are taking the night off," Wrath said abruptly. "We need some regroup time." Rhage snorted from across the table. "You're not going to make us play Monopoly again, are you?" Yup." A collective groan rose up from the Brotherhood, one that Wrath ignored. "Right after dinner.”

“You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.”

“In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was...although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe even Joan Collins.”

“Use me. You've done so much for us-" Marissa said. "Not.....for you." V said. "He's alive because of you. So that's everything." V shook his head and turned away from the wrist. "Can't." "I need you. I'm sick from what I do. I need you." Butch whispered. Vishous fixated on Butch. "Only for...you... not me." "For both of us" "All of us," Marissa interjtected. V took a deep breth and bit into the wrist.”

“No, thanks.” Rhage laughed. “I’m a good little sewer, as you know firsthand. Now who’s your friend?” “Beth Randall, this is Rhage. An associate of mine. Rhage, this is Beth, and she doesn’t do movie stars, got it?” “Loud and clear.” Rhage leaned to one side, trying to see around Wrath. “Nice to meet you, Beth.” “Are you sure you don’t want to go to a hospital?” she said weakly. “Nah. This one’s just messy. When you can use your large intestine as a belt loop, that’s when you hit the pros.”

“You have cable?” He nodded toward her TV. She tossed him the clicker. “Sure do. And if I remember, there’s a Godzilla marathon on TBS tonight.” “Sweet,” the vampire said, kicking his legs out. “I always root for the monster.” She smiled at him. “Me, too.”

“A hand landed on his shoulder like an anvil. “How’d you like to stay for dinner?” Butch looked up. The guy was wearing a baseball cap and had some kind of marking—was that a tattoo, on his face? “How’d you like to be dinner?” said another one, who looked like some kind of model.”

“He didn't say anything. Didn't try any of the hugging bullshit, either, which was just as well. Instead, he placed a wooden case next to Tohr on the bed, exhaled some Turkish smoke, and went back for the exit like he couldn't wait to get out of the room. Except he stopped before he left, "I gotchu, my brother," he said to the door. "I know, V. You always have. ~Vishous and Tohrment Lover Reborn”

“His thumb went back and forth over the satin, as if he were rubbing her hip as he had when they'd been together, and he moved his leg over so that it was on top of the skirting. It wasn't the same, though. There was no body underneath, and the fabric smelled like lemons, not her skin. And he was, after all, alone in this room that was not theirs. "God, I miss you," he said in a voice that cracked. "Every night. Every day.”

“That's where you come in. I want into that guy's mind, and you need to tell me how to do it." Ad shrugged. "Personally, I'd just use a hacksaw, but—" "There are potential consequences and side effects," Eddie said carefully. "Like what?" "Well, worst case... he could end up like Adrian.”

“With the supplies gathered, he went over to the stainless-steel sink and pressed the foot pedal to get the water running. While he washed his hands, he said quietly, "If I could, I would." "Excuse me?" Qhuinn pumped some suds into his palms and scrubbed all the way up his forearms. Which was overkill, but if Blay wanted him superclean, then that was what he was going to be. "If I could love a guy like that, it would be you.”

“Rehv swooped down with his long arms and gathered her up against him, tucking her with vital care to his chest. Ducking his head to hers, his voice was deep and grave. "I never thought I would see you again." As he shuddered, she lifted her hands up to his torso. After holding herself back for a moment...she embraced him as fully as he did her. "You smell the same," she said rought, putting her nose right into the collar of his fine silk shirt. "Oh...God, you smell the same.”