“ But worries are for people who can’t pull grown men apart with their bare hands. ”
Death is my art form--when I fight, I'm a ballerina. Graceful. Chi lacks my grace, but makes up for it in energy and enthusiasm. His fighting style is like breakdancing--strong and frenetic with some really sweet moves. Jo's is . . .the Macarena. Ugly but gets the job done.
~ Eliza Crewe
Your death, strange human. I mean, your injury. No murder, just a little maiming. So I can leave. Maiming’s not so bad.
I eye the three of them, considering. They’ll need a lesson in discretion before I go. Not a lethal lesson. Mom wouldn’t like that.
My teeth rip skin; my jaws snap bones. I am fast, lightning-fast, snuff— oh-was-that-your-life?—oh-was-that-your-life?— fast.
