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Quote by Makoto Yukimura

“Carve it. Carve it into your flesh. Carve it into the land. Carve it into the sea. Carve it into your spoils. Carve it into your enemies. Carve it. Carve it. Carve what you feel into me. Carve that encounter into me.”

Quote by Makoto Yukimura

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Makoto Yukimura

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“So,” I said. “Exactly how long have the two of you been together? I assume that you’ve been going hot and heavy ever since that night at Fletcher’s house when the bounty hunters interrupted you. Am I right?” Finn and Bria didn’t look at me or each other. “Right,” Bria mumbled. “Although if it makes you uncomfortable—” “Then Gin’s just going to have to deal with it,” Finn cut her off. Bria stared at him in surprise. “What?” Finn said. “I worked too hard and too long to get you into my bed to just cut you loose now, cupcake.” Bria’s eyes narrowed. “Cupcake?” “Cupcake.” Finn grinned at her. “Or would you prefer snuggle bunny?” Bria’s hand drifted down to the gun on her leather belt, as though she wanted to pull it out and shoot Finn with it. Well, it was good to know I wasn’t the only one who occasionally had that reaction to him. ... Then I fixed them both with a hard stare. “Just don’t ask me to take sides when the two of you go at each other. Okay?” They nodded, then looked at each other. Finn waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, and Bria snorted. But she couldn’t stop a grin from curving her lips.”

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“Bria was silent for a moment. “What—what were you dreaming about?” I shrugged. “The usual. The night that our mother and Annabella died. I always see different parts of it, different bits and pieces.” “What did you see tonight?” I grimaced, even though she couldn’t see it in the darkness. “Oh, tonight was a real doozy. I dreamed about watching them die, about seeing them both disappear into balls of flames as Mab’s elemental Fire washed over them.” “Oh.”

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“More exotic still was Wulfstan's account of travels in the eastern Baltic and along the River Vistula; of a land of honey and plentiful fishing, of the habits of foreign kings and their burial rites and inheritance practices. In a time of war the Angelcynn were, at heart, still curious about the world beyond their shores.”

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“Indignation caused Mercedes to puff out her cheeks temporarily, causing her narrow face to resemble a set of inflated fireplace bellows. “You don’t like Mr. Swift any more than I do,” she retorted. “No,” Lillian said frankly. “But much as I hate to admit it, that puts us in a minority. Swift is liked by everyone in the northern hemisphere, including Westcliff and his friends, my friends, the servants, the neighbors—” “You are exaggerating—” “—children, animals and the higher order of plants,” Lillian finished sardonically. “If root vegetables could talk, I’ve no doubt they would say they like him, too.” Daisy, who was sitting by the window with a book, looked up with a sudden grin. “His charm doesn’t extend to poultry,” she said.”

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