Quotes from Richelle Mead

Wild and disrespectful? Who the hell are you anyway? Outsourced help?

Plus, I was about to spend six weeks with Christian Ozera. He was sarcastic, difficult, and made jokes about everything. Actually, he was a lot like me. It was going to be a long six weeks.

I hadn't gotten far when I ran into Mason. Good God. Men everywhere.

Any life worth living is going to have risks

Didn't understand love? Was she crazy? If she only knew what I'd sacrificed for Dimitri, what I'd done to be where I was now . . . all for love. She was the one who couldn't understand. Love wasn't a fling in a back room at a party. It was something you lived and died for.

Dimitri: "Were you really going to attack all of us? Doing that...protecting her like that—it was very brave. Stupid, but still brave. Why did you even try it?" Rose: "Because I'm her guardian.

I left her there crying as I walked toward the gate. A piece of my soul had died when Dimitri had fallen. Turning my back on her now, I felt another piece die as well. Soon there wouldn't be anything left inside me.

This," Adrian said grandly, "is Blake Lazar." "It's nice to meet you," she said. Blake smile radiantly. "May I call you Vasilisa?" "You can call me Lissa." "You can also," added Christian, "let go of her hand now.

About time," Christian said. "Lissa and Adrian get the market share on worrying about you, but they're not the only ones. And someone needs to put Adrian in his place, you know. I can't do it all the time." "Thanks. It kills me to say this, but I missed you too. No one's sarcasm compares to yours in Russia.

It wasn't the kind of touch that said, Hey, I've got a plan, so hang in there because we're going to get out of this. It was more like the kind of touch that simply said, You aren't alone. It was really the only thing he could offer. And in that moment, it was enough.

But the humans weren't what made my steps falter as I walked through grass that had turned bright green with summer's touch. It was Dimitri. Always Dimitri. Dimitri, the man I loved. Dimitri, the Strigoi I wanted to save. Dimitri, the monster I'd most likely have to kill. The love we'd shared always burned within me, no matter how often I told myself to move on, no matter how much the world did think I'd move on. He was always with me, always on my mind, always making me question myself.

How do you know if a demon is lying? His lips are moving.

Adrian gave the picture a nod of approval before handing me the phone. "Okay, even I can admit that's pretty cute." I found myself overanalyzing the comment. What had he meant in saying 'even he' could admit it? That I was cute for a human? Or that I had just met some kind of Adrian hot-girl criteria?

Whoa, Dimitri," I said, tossing my bag on the floor. "I realize this is actually a current hit in Eastern Europe right now, but do you think we could maybe listen to something that wasn't recorded before I was born?" Only his eyes flicked toward me; the rest of his posture remained the same. "What does it matter to you? I'm the one who's going to be listening to it. You'll be outside running.

Anyone who takes a hit for Adrian Ivashkov deserves some credit.

Maybe under all that guilt and certainty that he couldn't love again, he still wanted me. I would have liked to have found out. But I didn't have the time. Instead, I punched him.

Rose!" I looked to my right and saw Adrian cutting across the lawn toward me, oblivious to the slush's effects on his designer shoes. "Did you just call me 'Rose'?" I asked. "And not 'little dhampir'? I don't think that's ever happened." "It happens all the time," he countered, catching up to me.

Really, it's my fault. It was there. A hundred times there. How often did I see it? I knew. It kept happening. Over and over, you'd say you were through with him...and over and over, I'd believe it...no matter what my eyes showed me. No matter what my heart told me. My. Fault.

Historically inaccurate.' Adrian gestured at me with his other hand, the one not on my shoulder. "Who the hell looks at you and says 'historically inaccurate'?

Isaiah rolled his eyes. "Good God. What a noble lot. You're all Spartacus, aren't you?

He shook his head in mock sympathy. "I tell you, Sage. Sometimes I think I am the one who needs to take out the restraining order on you.

I tentatively attempted to make contact with the muscles in my body. They told me to leave them the fuck alone.

But what are loyalty and caring really worth?" "To me? Everything.

So many details came into focus. The shape of his lips, the line of his neck. "I'm not dangerous," I breathed. He brought his face toward mine. "You are to me." And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing. I closed my eyes, and the world around me faded.