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Only two kinds of people drink their coffee black: cops and serial killers.
“Have fun with your A-team. Sharpen some knives. Clean some guns. Don’t kill anybody while I’m gone.”
“And if you ever turn into your father and feed on this city like a leech, I will kill you.” Really? Not even in your wildest dreams. “If I ever turn into my father, you will kneel and pledge yourself to me, Jim. And you will be happy doing it.”
“It’s a family thing. Sometimes your father puts your semidead grandmother into a really bad place and is ashamed of it.” “Yeah,” Barabas said. “We’ve all been there.”
“Marry for safety. Marry for power. But only fools marry for love.”
So far I had the god of evil and the god of terror on my side. My good-guy image was taking a serious beating. Maybe I should recruit some unicorns or kittens with rainbow powers to even us out.
You’re like a dedicated cat lady, but you collect killers instead of fluffy cats.” “I don’t collect killers.” “Yes, you do, and those who aren’t killers turn into killers by the time you’re done.
