'Iron Kissed' Patricia Briggs

Iron Kissed - Patricia Briggs

I knew better than to try to get something out of the old gremlin until he was ready to talk, so I let him alone until he decided to speak - at least after the first ten of fifteen questions he hadn't answered.


(...) felt the girl's gaze on the back of my neck all the way. She looked too innocent and helpless to be anything but a serious nasty.


I have no trouble dropping my eyes, acknowledging anyone’s superiority and then doing whatever I please. Among the werewolves, once dominance was acknowledged, the dominant werewolf could, by custom, do no more than cuff me out of his way... while I then ignored him or plotted how to get back at him as I chose.


“I was not flirting with her,” he ground out.
He wasn't usually so easy. I settled in for some real fun.
“She was certainly flirting with you, Dr. Cornick,” I said, even though she hadn't been. Still...
“She was not flirting with me either.”


Both Zee and Uncle Mike had left me to my own devices in this investigation. Okay, they'd told me not to investigate, which amounted to the same thing.


Someone shouted, “Get the troll out of here.”
Followed by someone with a very deep voice muttering, “I’d like to see you try to get this troll out of here. I’ll eat your face and spit out your teeth.”


The warmth of his body shouldn't have felt good. He was angry and every muscle was tense. It was like being leaned on by a very heavy, warm brick. A sexy brick.


I’d never attended the meeting of any hate group—being half-Indian and not quite human, I’d have been pretty out of place. But I hadn’t been expecting a meeting conducted with all the passion and violence of a chess club. Okay, less passion and violence than a chess club.


It is generally a bad thing when someone hunting you is polite. It means they are sure they can take you anytime they want to.

(...) he sighed and heaved me up with more effort than I knew he felt. He was a werewolf; he could probably pick up a piano. My weight wasn't enough to make him sweat.


Maybe he’d change his mind, but I’d known him for a long time and he was as changeable as a boulder. You might move him with a bulldozer, but that was about it.


Data pierwszego wydania: 2008
Seria: Mercy Thompson
Tom 3