The guy was like part pro wrestler, part Toys "R" Us.

If you’ve bullshitted me, angel, I’m going to kill you.”
The other male rolled his eyes. “I’m already dead, idiot.

We’re vampires,” he said. “Not fairies.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that. You see that study your king hangs out in?”
“He’s nearly blind.”
“Which explains why he hasn’t hanged himself in that pastel train wreck.”
“I thought you were bitching about the gloom-and-doom decorating?”
“I free-associate.

Without time,” the angel said, “you have only the bottomless, shapeless mire of eternity.”
“FYI, philosophy bores me.”
“Not philosophy. Reality. Time is what gives life significance.

I brought us all Big Macs,” he said happily. “I know you dig ’em, remember?” “What the…” Tohr tightened his grip on his shellan, just in case . . . well, shit, with the way things were going lately, anything could happen. “What are you doing here?” “It’s your lucky day, motherfucker.

The righteous do not always do right, but their souls remain pure.