Magic Binds (Kate Daniels, #9)

by Ilona Andrews

Only two kinds of people drink their coffee black: cops and serial killers.

What am I, a heathen?” Technically, he was a heathen.

Asking her would only lead to more trouble. Oracles never explained things. You asked them a question and they gave you an oddly shaped piece of a puzzle that didn’t fit anywhere and explained nothing until it was too late.

“It’s not that I’m that evil, really. I’m just beloved by evil things.”

Oh wow, now that was a clever comeback. He’d surely drop to his knees and bow before my intellectual brilliance.

“Love is a complicated thing,” Roman said. “For some it’s fleeting and fickle. People fall in love fast and then they fall out of it faster than they can blink. For others, it’s a lifelong commitment. It can render you helpless or give you power. It can bring you bliss or misery. But true love, the one that endures through time, love that is pure joy, love that nothing in this world can shatter, that kind of love is rare. The two people standing before me today have it. They fought for it, they endured for it, and they earned it. Tonight we are privileged to celebrate their love with them.”