Psycop Quotes

“He was nuts. He'd scammed the quarterly mental health exam and was certifiably insane.

Not that that's ever stopped me from sleeping with anyone.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Secrets

“Jacob cut his gaze to me. I wasn't quiet sure how to convey, /I know we hate him, but based on the circumstances, it was the most logical thing to do/, with a nonverbal signal. I widened my eyes a little.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, GhosTV

“Crash took a long drag off his cigarette and gave me a smug little smile. He always looked smug. His hair was dyed Kool-Aid green. Maybe that's what he was looking smug about today, despite the fact that it clashed with his olive drab army duster. Or maybe he knew my ass stung with every step I took- either because he was an empath who hot "feelings" about what everyone was experiencing, or because he'd taken it up the ass from Jacob himself. Crash's smirk widened and I looked away. One day I'd probably slap him. And then I'd regret it, because he was probably into stuff like that.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Secrets

“I hit Crash's button and we heard the phone inside start to ring.

After four, he answered. "Hey, PsyPig." His voice was husky. "I'd normally tell you not to call me at this ungodly hour, but evidently someone's running a cockfghting ring in the hall, so I wasn't actually asleep...."

"It's me. Open up."

He was actually silent for a second. "Aren't /you/ butch?"

"Don't fuck around. I need to see Miss Mattie."

"Okay, okay, don't get your handcuffs in a twist. I can't find my pants."

I wondered if he could say the word "pants" without making something dirty out of it.

"Unless, of course, this visit is clothing-optional."

And there it was. I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me since the door was still shut.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Secrets

“And then I saw it.

The mirror fogged over as I squinted at my reflection, and I scrubbed it with the heel of my palm. My skin squeaked against the glass, I turned my head to the side. I peered at my reflection from the corner of my eye.

Toothmarks.

Jesus.

"You left a bite mark on my neck!"

Jacob opened the shower curtain just far enough to look out at me. He knuckled water out of his eyes and grinned at me. "Good thing you don't have to woke tomorrow."

"You shit."

He grinned wider and whisked the curtain shut.

Way to go. I'd look real slick reporting for duty at the Fifth Precinct covered in hickeys like a slutty teenaged girl. Damn it. I rubbed at the toothmarks, which raised a pinkish blotch around them. "It better be gone by Thursday," I said. I'm sure Jacob felt very chastised. Not.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Secrets

“I put them near the cellar door in case you want to store them down there."

"Yeah. I, uh... I'm not big on going down into this basement."

"But you said this place only had one ghost in it, and she left."

I had. But I never claimed that ,y loathing of basements was entirely rational. "I had a bizarre fabric softener incident once," I told her. "It scarred me for life.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Secrets

“I stared at the spot where [the ghost of] Warwick's nephew had warned me never to tell anyone what I could do, and then I slid my hand into Jacob's and pulled him close. He slipped his other arm around me and held me. I kissed him, and tried to clear my mind of everything but him and me. I looked deep into his eyes, and tried to determine if I was ready to let him in on the one thing I'd been carrying with me since my first round of psychic testing.

He started back at me like a man who'd fallen for me, hard. And that part inside, the one that usually tells me to run, or to shut up, or to play along and myself invisible and hopefully whatever I'm dealing with will just go away? That part of me said, /Yes. Tell him./

"I've got more talent than everyone on their payroll put together," I said. Jacob squeezed me tighter. His eyes never moved from mine. "I'm so far beyond level five it's not even funny”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Camp Hell

“You married, Zig?“ I asked him.

"Yeah, twenty-one years.” He actually glanced at his wedding ring as he said it. “You?”

I looked down at my bare left hand. I’d never had the compulsion to do that before. How lame. “I’m, uh… .” Great, I couldn’t say it.

But I had to. The longer I waited, the worse my anxiety would be. And I couldn’t imagine it feeling any worse than it did already. “I’m moving in with someone. Just as soon as we find a place that’s not haunted.” Say it, Vic. Damn it. Tell him.

“That a common problem, spirit activity in a …?”

“Jacob Marks. From the Twelfth. You know him? I’m moving in with him.”

Zig almost did a spit-take. The color drained from his ruddy cheeks, leaving him a strange shade of gray. His already-bulging eyes bulged even more. And then a barrier slammed down somewhere behind them and he pressed his lips together hard.

Shit. I’d thought I was up for the conversation, but evidently I was a much bigger pussy than I realized. My stomach clenched up and I fought the urge to tell Zig I was just kidding, and laugh, and give him a hearty, heterosexual clap on the back.

God, I hate confrontation.

I steeled myself for the tirade that was sure to come. The one where I was a drug addict, a shitty cop, and a miserable excuse for a human being.

Zig blinked. He cleared his throat. “Marks,” he said. “Sure. We’ve met.” And then he looked back at his notepad with every ounce of attention he had.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Body and Soul

“Do you sell anything that can answer a yes or no question?“ I asked him.

"For entertainment purposes,” he asked me not bothering to look up, “or for real?”

I squelched the impulse to scream, “What do you think, you jackass?” Maybe he was asking a serious question- though I had my doubts. “You’re the one with the metaphysical shop. If I wanted a magic Eight Ball, I’d go to SaverPlus.”

He looked up at me and grinned. “Did you notice the new guy who works at the return counter in the SaverPlus basement?He’s kind of a creep- which I think I like about him- and he’s got this monster bulge in his pants.”

I could totally see him getting into someone who was a creep. “Um. No.”

“They’re still open. Why don’t you go buy a Magic Eight Ball so I can return it?”

“No.”

“Then what the fuck good are you?”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Body and Soul

“Jackie, can you tell me if someone’s dead or not?’

“Who it be? Maybe I heard something.”

“Miranda Lopez.” I pulled out the charm and balanced it on my fingertips, and then I realized the photo was probably a better likeness. I pocketed the milagro ad held up the Polaroid.

“I find out for you if you get me a dime.”

I sighed and put the photo away. “You can’t smoke crack. You’re dead. And even if you weren’t, I’m not gonna score for you. I’m a cop. “

“You so full of shit. You ain’t no cop neither.”

“Would I be wearing this fucking suit if I wasn’t a cop?”

“I don’t know. I always thought you sold cars or something.”

I tucked my chin toward my chest and stomped toward my gate. Jackie couldn’t help me. And how dare she call me a used car salesman? I wasn’t always a dork in a blazer. Once upon a time I was actually cool. Until the Cook County Mental Health Centre, anyway. After that, I guess I kinda stopped caring.”
― Jordan Castillo Price, Body and Soul