Beth Cook

“Will tossed the bloody cloth aside. “And you wonder why we aren’t friends.”
“I just wondered,” Gabriel said, in more subdued voice, “if perhaps you have ever had enough.”
“Enough of what?”
“Enough of behaving as you do.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes glistening dangerously. “Oh, I can never get enough,” he said. “Which, incidentally, is what your sister said to me when─”
The carriage door flew open. A hand shot out, grabbed Will by the back of his shirt, and hauled him inside.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel