Nightfall (Devil's Night #4)

“But you’re going to be fucking mine someday,” he growled. “Come hell or high water, Emory Scott. You’re my woman, and you’re going to come home to me every day and sit at my table and warm my fucking bed.” He kissed me. “And you’re going to give me a Will Grayson IV. Mark my words.”

gasping as Aydin grabbed the gun, propped it up on the floor for leverage, and shot the bayonet down, slicing off Taylor’s pinky finger.

I loved that feeling too, Winter Ashby.
It wasn’t the ride, though, honey. It wasn’t the ride.

“Well, I prefer the classics,” I told her. “Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone…”

“Jean-Claude Van Damme,” we both said at the same time.

She turned to me, and I laughed.

“Yes,” she said, smiling.

“Fuck yes.” I nodded. “I mean, the Muscles from Brussels? Hell yeah.”

“Bloodsport,” she added.

“Kickboxer,” I chimed in.

Great movies. The eighties were the golden age. Ordinary people going to war—battling for honor. I mean, you just don’t get movies like Lethal Weapon, Beverly Hills Cop, and Cobra anymore.

You’re the disease, and I’m the cure. Booyah.

Nothing will be as perfect as this. I don’t like change.

Nothing will be as perfect as this. I don’t like change.

“You either have my back,” Michael said.

“You’re at my side,” Kai continued.

“Or you’re in my way,” the rest of us finished.

“Be Lilith,” the girls said.

Athos pulled the Red Death over her eyes, all of us setting off as she whispered. “Never Eve.”

Only Micah and Eslem were from the same Serbian girl.

“You’re whoever you want to be, Mads,” I told them. “Don’t ever forget that. Don’t look at the world through anyone else’s eyes but your own.

“Live for your love,” the judge said, “love your life, and raise hell.”