urban-fantasy

Fine. Okay. I killed her. But I didn__ mean to. And I didn__ kill her, kill her.___h, I see. As long as you didn__ kill her, kill her, then that__ okay.

MacMillian groaned again, and sat up. "Clients?""Yeah. You know, people who'll give us money in exchange for work.

She rubbed the skin off your headstone of a sternum and painted a sad picture of herself in your eyes. We fell in love with that little peep-show projection on the inside of an iris, pictures that amount to nothing more than the thirsty moon over a spot of bloody ground. Those weren__ the nothings we restless sleepwalkers knew, no place no home no song. So we heard her and we followed until she went where we couldn't follow.She went down beyond the mountains and disappeared between the crease of sky and land, like a great eyelid folding shut. No one knows what happened out in the Black Hills, but I imagine she lies buried in a rusty coffin under the stars. And on nights when the desert crickets sing her tune, they say one day she will rise again. On that day, there is no telling the kind of vengeance she'll demand of us. Fair is fair.They say when she fell from Heaven she wore a crown of jagged stars that slit the skies throat. They say she loved them all, in the secret corners of their shallow sleep. Strangers, at the last. They say a lot of things. They__e all lies. Everything is already written.

In the distance, steel-blue mountains loomed heavy on the horizon, their shoulders burdened with the same accursed snow the gods were currently depositing upon the lowlands. Between us and the mountains, the vast expanse of one of the innumerable caravan sites littering the Welsh shores was dimly visible, and at the far edges of the sands, grey waves tipped a mulch of brown foam up on to the beach, a sudden deposition of wishy-washy creatures that seemed to spider-leg over each other in their haste to reach the shore and see what all the fuss was about.But even these creatures comprised of sea-foam were freaked out by the death-stare, for the little critters swiftly dissipated under the force of a skeletal glower.A skull lay in the sand, its empty sockets staring down the beach at the retreating surge. Their fear wouldn__ last long. Soon they__ realise the skeleton had not engaged in pursuit, their confidence would grow, and they__ encroach, further and further up the bank. Eventually, they__ be close enough to see it was completely inert, and would overrun our position, victoriously sweeping up their fallen foe and dragging it back out with them into the dreary waves.

I imagined her poised, a humerus in one hand, a toothbrush in the other, as she gently brushed away the last remnants of the person who had once used that arm to shake hands, open doors, lift a mug of tea. I wondered if it was so very different from how I myself looked when I sat on the floor of my finds room, perhaps sitting cross-legged, at the centre of a circle of newly cleaned bones, a tibia in one hand, a toothbrush in the other _

Even Tom Cruise made a better-looking vampire on-screen, which up until this day had been one of my biggest disappointments.

Raymond continued circling me, and I looked back at him. __nyway, I know Lilith hates your guts, and she would have killed you yesterday if you hadn__ managed to escape.__e stopped and stepped closer, I didn__ back away. His gaze traveled the length of my body and fixed on my face, he seemed to like what he saw. I barely kept myself from flinching. __f I were king, things would be different. I could make you my queen._ Eew. I left my face blank, and raised an eyebrow. __hanks for the offer, but no thanks. I__ not really into necrophilia.

Some things aren__ meant for sunlight. The only place for them is in the shadows.

We have souls, little slices of infinity inside us, and anyone with a soul couldn__ be forgotten by God. He__ never leave behind a part of Himself.

Love is the line that draws the shape of God. --Bleeding Hearts (Demimonde #1)

Even a deep chick like me needed to have a shallow spot somewhere inside.

Better undead than dead.

I'm most dangerous when bored." ~Drahomira, vampire

But I'll admit that he's kind of offensively delicious" "Like salt and vinegar potato chips" "Exactly

Not my species, not my problem.

I mean, electric shock? Isn__ that a bit... electric shock-y?

Edward smiled, I smiled, even Bernardo smiled. Olaf just looked sinister.

One hand was behind his back, and he held it out, presenting a bouquet of white and smoky purple lilies. __hey__e straight from the underworld, by the way. They are everlasting. They won__ die.