Mychael stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Raine, when we get inside, let me answer all of the questions.”
“What, you don’t trust my diplomatic skills?”
“You don’t have any.

Tam knew what I was saying. He stared at me, his expression unreadable. “I need you to support the ceiling above the tear I’m going to make.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it. You pull; I push. Let’s go!”
“I need control and delicacy, Raine.”
I snorted. “Too bad you’re stuck with me.

Do you trust me?” Tam said it almost too softly to be heard.
I hesitated, sighed, then reached down and took his hand. Tam’s fingers wrapped warm and strong around mine. The magic sparked between us, though this time it was warm and tingling, not violent and lustful.
“Though you’re the last thing I need,” I muttered.
I heard the smile in his voice. “But I’m the first thing you want.

Most girls get flowers or candy. I get a declaration of martial law.

Michael was still an enigma, wrapped in a riddle, coated in yum. Only now the enigma was a little less mysterious; I was a few clues closer to solving the riddle - but damn, that man would always be coated in yum.

Vegard and Riston's job today was to guard and protect me. And considering that I was in a tower room in the Guardians' citadel, it looked like a pretty plum assignment. I mean, how much trouble could a girl get into under heavy guard in a tower room? Notice I didn't ask that question out loud. No need to rub Fate's nose in something when I'd been tempting her enough lately.

Phaelan had generously his guard services as well, just in case something happened to me that my Guardian bodyguards couldn't handle. Phaelan's guard-on-duty stance resembled his pirate-on-shore-leave stane of leaning back in a chair with his feet up, but instead of a tavern table, his boots were doing a fine job of holding down the windowsill. I don't know how I'd ever felt safe without him.