Whispers Under Ground (Rivers of London #3)

by Ben Aaronovitch

I don’t know why Nightingale was so surprised—I barely knew four and a half spells and you couldn’t have got me to give it up, and that’s despite close brushes with death by vampire, hanging, malignant spirit, riot, tigerman, and the ever-present risk of overdoing the magic and getting a brain aneurysm.

James, he told us, had been persistent in the way only Americans and double-glazing salesmen seem to be capable of.

It was a good plan, and like all plans since the dawn of time, this would fail to survive contact with real life.

My failure made his success taste all the sweeter—it’s an American thing.