Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles, #4)

by Ilona Andrews

She wouldn’t become involved with another vampire again. She wouldn’t even entertain that idea, no matter how hard he fought or how much admiration reflected in his eyes when he looked at her. She was done with all things vampire.

Words are cheap, she reminded herself. Reading too much into them was a dangerous habit and one she couldn’t afford.

Vampire worldview, condensed into three sentences: If it’s not food or a pet, kill it, because it might be poisonous.

“Societal change is hard, because a society is made up of individuals. These individuals learn how to be successful in that particular social construct, and they resist change because it threatens their survival. To really implement a change, one must convince the population that their survival as a whole is in doubt unless they alter their course. Because interstellar flight removes a lot of these survival factors, the society in question generally stays as it is once the ability to traverse the stars is achieved. If they were hunter-gatherers, they remain so. If they were a republic, they remain a republic, and so on.”

This was ridiculous. The simple act of relaxing was so alien to her that her mind went into convulsions, thinking she was in danger. Maud opened her mouth to lie. No. She promised herself she wouldn’t.

“What I’m trying to say is, I see you. I would love you if you were a vampire or a human, because of who you are. You don’t need an inn or a broom to fascinate me. You only have to look my way and you’ll have all of my attention.”

“I realize now why I have never fallen in love. I’m entirely too sane for that nonsense.”

Sometimes even the strongest love wasn’t enough.

“Matilda Rose, daughter of Gerard, daughter of Helen, Lady and Heir of Demille, Maven of House Krahr.” The hallway ended, and they strode into the banquet hall. The entirety of the room was watching them. “Maud the Red, the Sariv, the Learned One.” They were approaching the table where Onda and Seveline sat. Both women were staring daggers at her. “Kill count of sixty and eight.”

This was ducking badass!