Eleni

“Andrea raised her hand. “This is the hand that slapped Aunt B.”
“Maybe you should have it gold-plated.”
“Here, you can touch it, since you’re my best friend.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Slays

“I know it's late, but could you find a book for me? It's called The Slavs: Study of Pagan Tradition by Osvintsev."
Barabas sighed dramatically. "Kate, you make me despair. Let's try that again from the top, except this time pretend you are an alpha."
"I don't need a lecture. I just need the book."
"Much better. Little more growl in the voice?"
"Barabas!"
"And we're there. Congratulations!”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Slays

“Kate makes good sausage," Jim said.

Six pairs of eyes stared at me. Thank you, Mr. Wonderful. Just what I needed.

"Oh yeah," Andrea snapped her fingers. "The links? The ones we had the beginning of the month? I didn't know you made those. I thought they were bought. They were so good." Her smile was positively cherubic. Of all the times not to be able to shoot laser beams out of my eyes...

"What do you put into your sausage, Kate?" Raphael wanted to know, giving me a perfectly innocent look.

Werejaguars with big mouths with a pinch of werehyena thrown in. "Venison and rabbit."

"That sounds like some fine sausage," Doolittle said. "Will you share the recipe?"

"Sure."

"I had no idea you were a sausage expert," Curran said with a completely straight face.

Die, die, die, die...

Even Derek cracked a smile. Raphael put his head down on the table and jerked a little.

"Is he choking?" Dali asked, wrinkling her forehead.

"No, he just needs a moment," Curran said. "Young bouda males. Easily excitable.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Strikes

“His Majesty needs a can-I girl anyway. And I'm not it."
"A can-I girl?" Andrea frowned.

I leaned back. "'Can I fetch your food, Your Majesty? Can I tell you how strong and mighty you are, Your Majesty? Can I pick your fleas, Your Majesty? Can I kiss your ass, Your Majesty? Can I..."

It dawned on me that Raphael was sitting very still. Frozen, like a statue, his gaze fixed on the point above my head. "He's standing behind me, isn't he?"

Andrea nodded slowly.

"Technically it should be 'may I'," Curran said, his voice deeper than I remembered. "Since you're asking for permission."

Why me?

"To answer your question, yes, you may kiss my ass. Normally I prefer maintain my personal space, but you're a Friend of the Pack and your services have proven useful once or twice. I strive to accommodate the wishes of persons friendly to my people. My only question is, would kissing my ass be obeisance, grooming, or foreplay?”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Strikes