Silence Fallen (Mercy Thompson, #10)

by Patricia Briggs

The mastiff, bless her, welcomed me into her yard like a golden retriever welcoming a burglar into his home—that is to say, with a wagging tail and licks of affection.

“I only get weirder the longer you know me,” I told him, quoting one of the T-shirts I’d gotten for my last birthday.

Adam nodded. “People who stand in the way of my mate’s ability to get herself out of trouble often feel like they were hit by buses. I think this might be the first time it is literally true, though.”

We drove past a castle—because it was the Czech Republic, and apparently castles were required by all the best villages.

Galina tried to help, but her abilities to interact with the real world were limited to rolling heads around.