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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Leo slid across the seat: dry, elegant, relaxed, and satisfied. The devil in an eight-thousand-dollar Brioni suit.
“One does not use a thirty-year-old Macallan for dismembered Mithran limbs. One uses vodka.”
“Have I told you recently that you do a great job?” I asked the Kid. “Words are nice, but I’d rather have a car.”
I looked like the love child of a wet cat and the creature from Swamp Thing,
“Long as they don’t call the cops,” I said. “We don’t have time for the cops.” “Call the cops? In New Orleans? How long have you been living in this city?”
strategical
strategic
