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Well, Sebastien thought, they might all be furious with him, but at least his court was convivial.

Jane cupped her coffee in both hands and blew across the steam so it curled from her lips like a musing dragon's breath.

Oh, that was fang indeed, and the flicker of a long forked tongue in silent laughter.

She wondered when she had moved from mere conspiracy to treason.

Her chains rattled. Man, if I turned off my ethics I'd probably murder her just to not have to hear the rattling for a while.

It was the most stunning protest I could think of, dying to oppose the Synarche, doing a little damage along the way.

Elizabeth had been eternal. Elizabeth was England. Elizabeth was deathly tired.

Maybe she was winning the argument-a prospect that both scared and excited me.

Call it the universe of the Prometheans' goal-if they wish to shape the stories, I wish not to be shaped by them.

By the way, should you have the opportunity to be kidnapped by radicals, you'd rather fall in with the Right Hand Path than with Maenads, if you get the choice.

I'faith, Kit, is there any man in Elizabeth's court you haven't let bugger you?" "There's a few I've buggered instead." Kit waited for the chuckle. Will did not fail him.

The bruises under her eyes are dark enough for Min-xue to dip his brush in and write poetry.

Sneaky manipulative bundle of code.

I had a moment's respect for this wily silce of code.

I am many things: not a single one of them makes me qualified to troubleshoot or debug or antivirus an AI.

His voice, softly cultured as ever, showed little of the emotional strain until he dropped his hands to his side and swore.

She let Carel guide her to a chair, the warm smell of vanilla following the swing of Carel's braids.

I found myself looking at her profile: straight, proud nose and an arch expression. Her lips curved.

Richard is made in the image of a physicist dead since the previous century.

She shook out her skirts in the hall, and retrieved her silver-tipped ebony wand.

Lucifer caught him by the wrist, pulled him close, cradled him in the warm snowfall of wings.

The cold wind tugged Kit's hair, a sensation like the caress of Lucifer's feathers.

The Republican pirate was charismatic in a way that reached right past all the rightminding safe-guards on my emotions and hormones and made me want to know her better and bond and be best friends with her forever.

The tilt of the Technomancer's head was an old woman's mockery of a young woman's simpering. It charmed him.