Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles, #4)

by Ilona Andrews

“I’ve survived countless attempts at manipulation before. I appear to be too dense for it. However, I am open to being seduced.”

But the stronghold itself breathed an overwhelming sense of ancientness. It spoke to the visitors without uttering a word. We’ve built this. It’s endured for centuries. Countless generations of us have walked across its threshold and still we own it, for no one is strong enough to take it away from us.

“My mother is never insulted. She is far too dignified and refined for that. She has the patience of a saint.” “Lady Ilemina,” Maud quoted from memory, “Slaughterer of Ruhamin, Supreme Predator of the Holy Anocracy, Bleeder of Ert, Fierce Subjugator of…” “Like I said, too dignified to take offense. If someone dares to insult her, she simply kills them, and she isn’t going to kill me. I’m her only son. At most, she’s annoyed, perhaps slightly irritated.”

She wouldn’t lose her future to her memories.

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

Karat paused. “Did you just say my cousin was sweet? Arland Krahr? The Bloodmace? The Bone Crusher? The Ravager of Nexus? That Arland?”

“We had some words.” “What kind of words?” “He said, ‘You’re upsetting your mother.’ I asked him if he was planning on doing something about it, and here we are.” “Is Otubar alive?” Ilemina asked, her voice flat. “Yes. Although I did dislocate his shoulder. I expect he’ll make a full recovery by evening.”

Ilemina threw her hands in the air. “This is blackmail, Arland.” “No, it’s a boundary.

That’s what marriage was, at the core—the exclusive right to spend as much time with someone you loved as they were willing to give.

Tellis, the groom, was walking toward the table. “A bit of swagger in his step,” Ilemina observed. “Do something about it, won’t you, dear?” “Yes,” Otubar and Arland said in unison. Maud braced herself.

She’d just watched him reach into a Pandora’s box like he was grabbing a sandwich out of a picnic basket.

“Let me see if I understand correctly. You didn’t like the way a pirate and slave trader spoke to me, so you sent a frigate to track him down and murder him and his crew at my convenience?” “You seemed to really dislike him.”

My lords and ladies, please take these few precious seconds remaining of your lives to contemplate where it all went wrong and prepare to cross death’s threshold. You will not be granted another chance to reflect.”