10,882 books
—
29,208 voters
“hung up and grinned. The Scourge of Mexico just told me he loved me. I never got tired of hearing it.”
― Wildfire
― Wildfire
“I let the mercenary go. He collapsed on the ground and rolled into a ball, covering his face. His body shook and an unsettling low sound came from him. He was sobbing.
I had opened his mind with my magic can opener, scooped out the contents, and displayed them for all to see. It was a deep violation of his person. People were staring at me, their eyes brimming with fear. A couple of them gripped their weapons in alarm. I had horrified the professional soldiers. I looked at my mother. Sadness softened her face, her mouth slack.
It hit me. I was the monster on the street. Without me, they would’ve questioned and even tortured this veteran mercenary. They would’ve done it with the understanding that he would resist and he wouldn’t have faulted them for it, because in their place he would’ve done the same. There was a twisted kind of professional courtesy about it all. But me, I didn’t torture. I broke his will without even breathing hard. Each one of them could see themselves in the mercenary’s place. I could make them tell me all their secrets and that was more frightening than Rogan stopping a massive tanker truck at full speed.
I’d never felt so alone in my whole life.
Rogan stepped between me and them, his eyes full of something. Whatever it was—pride? Admiration? Love?—I held on to it like it was a lifeline. He understood. At some point in his life he had stood just like that, while people stared at him in horror, and he must’ve felt alone, because now he was here, and he was shielding me from their judgment.
“You’re amazing,” Connor Rogan said and smiled.”
― White Hot
I had opened his mind with my magic can opener, scooped out the contents, and displayed them for all to see. It was a deep violation of his person. People were staring at me, their eyes brimming with fear. A couple of them gripped their weapons in alarm. I had horrified the professional soldiers. I looked at my mother. Sadness softened her face, her mouth slack.
It hit me. I was the monster on the street. Without me, they would’ve questioned and even tortured this veteran mercenary. They would’ve done it with the understanding that he would resist and he wouldn’t have faulted them for it, because in their place he would’ve done the same. There was a twisted kind of professional courtesy about it all. But me, I didn’t torture. I broke his will without even breathing hard. Each one of them could see themselves in the mercenary’s place. I could make them tell me all their secrets and that was more frightening than Rogan stopping a massive tanker truck at full speed.
I’d never felt so alone in my whole life.
Rogan stepped between me and them, his eyes full of something. Whatever it was—pride? Admiration? Love?—I held on to it like it was a lifeline. He understood. At some point in his life he had stood just like that, while people stared at him in horror, and he must’ve felt alone, because now he was here, and he was shielding me from their judgment.
“You’re amazing,” Connor Rogan said and smiled.”
― White Hot
“And everywhere, everywhere there were books. Not the tidy stacks of an intellectual trying to impress, but the slumping piles of a scholar obsessed.”
― The Raven Boys
― The Raven Boys
“Apparently my function was to keep a human expression on Rogan’s face. Good to know. And here I thought I was spearheading an investigation. How silly of me.”
― White Hot
― White Hot
“This is what it would be like, I realized. We could come home to each other every night.
It didn't have to be all blood and gore and fancy dinners. It could also be this, and this felt so good.”
― Wildfire
It didn't have to be all blood and gore and fancy dinners. It could also be this, and this felt so good.”
― Wildfire
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