Louisa Wilkinson

“Then he kissed her as though he had never thought to do so again, hands cradling the back of her head, fingers in her hair. For a moment, there was only the sensation of lips and teeth and tongue. Of skin, and the scent of him that wasn’t masked by bleach or soap, like a charge of electricity in the air.
And when he pressed her back against the wall like he had outside the bar that first night, she grinned up at him.
“Charlie Hall,” he whispered into her hair. “There will never be anyone like you.”
“For which we can all be grateful,” she whispered back, regretting wearing the stretchy pants, which were hell to get off.”
― Holly Black, Book of Night

“Salt reached into his pocket and took out his matte black gun, pointing it directly at Charlie. “You have made a very bad mistake crossing me, Charlatan—”
Charlie froze. Vicereine’s shadow cat roared as three shadows spread from Malik, their mouths full of teeth. Bellamy drew a sword of shadow.
“Lionel,” Malik said. “There’s no need for this.”
Behind Salt, Vince lifted his wrists and the cuffs came away, falling to the ground. He stepped forward with inhuman swiftness, pressing the point of a letter opener to Salt’s throat.
Adeline made a sharp sound that was almost a scream.
The sounds of the party seemed very far away.
“You said I was a creature of hate.” Vince spoke into Salt’s ear. “And I do hate you. For Remy, whose blood is my blood, whose flesh is my flesh, and whose hate is my hate. For Char, who will survive tonight. Aim that gun somewhere else, or I will hurt you and go on hurting you until there is nothing but pain.”
“You can’t—” Salt began, voice trembling.
“I’m sorry, Char.” Vince wore a small, sad smile. “It was always going to happen like this. I knew he’d let me get close to him, and it’d give me a chance.”
― Holly Black, Book of Night

“He turned his hollow gray eyes on her. "I'm angry," he said. "I am still so angry."
Surprised, charlie started to open her mouth and then closed it again.
"Last night, after you fell asleep, I couldn't stop looking at the swell of your cheek. The snarl of your dark hair. The shipped black nail polish on your toes, curled up against whatever dream you were having. The way you pulled loose the bottom sheet with the violence of sleeping. I looked at you and had a feeling so intense that it made me dizzy and a little sick." His gaze was on the silvery grass of the lawn. "It's no good to feel this way."
Charlie's heart hammered. He had never spoken to her like that. She didn't think anyone had spoken to her like that. "Vince?"
"When I saw you tonight - what he'd done, what he was doing, I wanted to kill him. I was furious and I haven't stopped being furious. I don't feel guilty. I wish he was alive so I could kill him again."
Astonishment robbed her of breath. Vince didn't get angry. He didn't talk about his feelings. He didn't sit alone in the dark, talking about shadows and stars.
He turned to her. "Pretend I didn't say any of that. If you can, pretend tonight never happened, Charlie.”
― Holly Black, Book of Night

“There'd always been something wrong with Charlie Hall. Crooked, from the day she was born. Never met a bad decision she wasn't willing to double down on. Had fingers made for picking pockets, a tongue for lying, and a shriveled cherry pit for a heart. If her shadow had been one of those magic ones, she was pretty sure even that thing would have run away.”
― Holly Black, Book of Night