My mother was a pathetic patchwork witch who had used magic so much to meddle in her own life that she had no integrity left and was nothing but a coil of hatreds consuming themselves in futility. We had already hedged her power, with the help of the fairies.
When the power falls on me, it buzzes in the warm, dark spaces of my skull. It stings like nettles at the tips of my fingers. The power is a fever I have felt since early childhood, a heat in the blood that leaves me flushed and unsteady, dreaming in daylight.
No sign of Marissa yet though I heard her clunking around in the bathroom so she was probably doing whatever girls do to make themselves presentable. Poor things. It didn't take any time at all for us guys to rejoin the world and still be our handsome selves.
Tell me what you felt when you first looked at me, Branwyn," he persisted, apparently oblivious to their audience. "What you feel now."The memory shook her with its intensity. "I saw light. I felt fire. I knew joy. Now I' am bursting with love. Take me home, Eirik.
I’ll never turn her away, Clyde. She’s my mate. I’ll protect her till my dying breath. I’ll even swallow my pride and ask a favor as momentous as the one I just asked of a man who has done nothing but try to drive a wedge between her and myself.
I believe in witches, Sophia,” his deep voice hypnotized her.“I hope you don’t burn me at the stake,” she murmured to him.“I don’t burn witches. I set them on fire,” Alistair whispered so low Sophia thought she had heard wrong.
What do you think we should do about Sampson?" I asked."I would have to say...stop him," Sam said."How?" I asked her."Someone who is as powerful and as smart and crazy as he is should do it.""Okay, but who?""Well...you should.""So you think I'm crazy?" I asked her.
Yeah, well, what are you going to teach me next...how to take over the world?” I asked sarcastically.“Good idea!” Sampson exclaimed a little too enthusiastically.“No, bad idea!” I stressed.“See? You are learning,” Sampson said.
The book did not say anything about a statue, valuable or otherwise, and so I stopped reading about the Bombinating Beast and got interested in the chapter about the Stain'd witches, who had ink instead of blood in their veins. I wondered what they kept in their pens.
Witches were a bit like cats. They didn’t much like one another’s company but they did like to know where all the other witches were, just in case they needed them. And what you might need them for was to tell you, as a friend, that you were beginning to cackle.
My father also told me that he felt free in that little hole in the ground, much freer than he felt outside, where he was always being chased by the criminals of the regime. That freedom came from inside, from his thoughts, from his soul; and nobody could take that from him.
A dragon for a familiar!" Trom exclaimed."That's what I said to her or close to it anyway," the dragon said."You're supposed to be helping me make you my familiar," I said to the dragon."Yeah, I know; I meant for that to sound better than it did," the dragon replied.
Do I at least get to keep the toothbrush?”“Sure. Unless you can get it back in that wrapper and seal it up all nice and new. Well, that’s what the last girl did. See,you can hardly tell it’s been opened!”--Reggie Sinclair from Angela's Coven
Nope, not Debby Demint!" His lips curved up while his eyes sparkled with amusement. "You haven't even seen her. All the guys make fools of themselves over her." "There's only one who I desire to make a fool of myself over." Were all vampires as charming as Dominic?
The Girauds' child was looking more and more like a problem.Luke pressed his lips into a thin line. When she'd leaned in the stagecoach blazing with fervor over what was in the arcane books, it had taken all his willpower not to throw a bolt of magic to stop her heart.
