Blood Debts (The Nate Temple Series, #2)

by Shayne Silvers

Knight of Hell? What did that even mean? Was he, like, a recruit for Sir Lucifer’s Knights of the Crooked Table or something? A sword-bearer for the Prince of Darkness? I mentally upgraded him from Thundercat to Hell’s version of Lancelot. Sir Dreadsalot. Then he shattered the phone on the ground, stomped on it several times for good measure, and hooted in triumph.

You see, women spoke on many different levels. Men were snipers, focusing only on the one thing directly in front of us, where women were raging cyclones of a dozen assassins hidden inside a single person.