Riders Quotes

“My team - an actor, a drunk, and a sociopath - didn't exactly inspire confidence.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Everything seemed awesome, now that I wasn't in the mental clutches of a demon.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“I don't think that incident necessarily defines you as bad. I think it makes you human. And I believe you would have stopped yourself. I think that's what makes a person good. Not that you make mistakes, but that you recognize them. You feel remorse for them. You want to correct them and do better.”
― veronica rossi, Riders

“Nobody ever drowned in their own sweat.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“As a soldier in the US Army, I was prepared to do whatever was asked of me because I believed, down to my soul, that the uniform I’d wear as a Ranger represented the defense of liberty and freedom, and the country I love. I’d chosen to serve because I could fight and because until wars stopped happening, people like me were needed. I had zero problem doing whatever it took to keep harm from coming to innocent people. Zero problem. Period, exclamation point, and freakin’ hooah.”
― Veronica rossi , Riders

“We moved in bursts, with me on point and Marcus at the rear, everyone moving quietly except Sebastian, who was about as stealthy as a giraffe.

“Get quiet and low,” I whispered to him.

He ducked his head, taking him to an almost invisible six-foot-two.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“How’s it going today, Riot?” I said. “I’m Gideon.”

Nice. Two sentences and I’d already managed to embarrass myself. In front of Daryn and a horse. I hadn’t even realized the last part was possible. I continued speaking as I stepped closer. “I’m sure we have a lot in common. You’re clearly a stallion in top physical condition. Extremely dangerous. Badass. Impressive looking.”

“Wow,” Daryn said behind me.

That made me smile, which I needed. I was nervous as all get-out. The muscles in Riot’s legs were twitching. His breath lifted in puffs of steam. He had gold eyes—and they hadn’t unlocked from mine. He looked like he wanted to eat my head.

“Keep going,” Daryn said. “And maybe try to be positive and nice? I think he can sense what you’re saying.”

Positive, check. Nice, check. Wait—nice?

Shit. Okay.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Where the hell are we going, Jode?” I’d already asked for the location and marked it on my GPS. But I was feeling the seventy pounds of food and supplies on my back. The cadre in RASP would’ve given this hike their stamp of approval.

“You told me remote,” Jode replied. “Remote requires a good bit of trekking.”

“You mean hiking.”

“No, Gideon. I mean trekking.”

We’d been doing that a lot, Jode and I. I’d become a human autocorrect for all his weird British phrases. He usedfancy as a verb. Nosh meant food.Bum was ass. Loo was bathroom. And everything was either bloody, brilliant, or both, bloody brilliant,which to me only described one thing. Actually three: the color of my cuff, my sword, and my armor. They really were bloody brilliant.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Since it was my car, and since I felt confident it would make Marcus miserable, I pushed the Pearl Jam cassette into the tape deck as I got back on the freeway and turned it up. After a couple of tracks, Bas got hung up on trying to figure out the lyrics to “Yellow Ledbetter”—an unattainable goal since they were basically undecipherable sounds with a few words sprinkled in. The song was all feeling, but he was determined. We listened to it over and over, and caught a little more each time. Metaphorically, the song felt perfect for the mission we were on.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“I couldn’t believe he was hitting me as we were falling. But that could’ve been because I was hitting him, too.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Wow.” She reached for a black pillow decorated with a big sparkly skull and hugged it. “So romantic.”

I made a face, because who the hell wanted to be a romantic? Then I couldn’t look past the skull pillow. “Tell me something, sis. Why do we have to make skulls cute? Some things shouldn’t be messed with. Guns, for example. Toilets … toilet paper … guns … They should just stay functional. Sparkle-free.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. If I had a bedazzled toilet, I’d love it and so would you. Don’t even try to deny it. You’d love a fancy can.”

I did deny it, which led to a healthy debate.”
― Veronica rossi , Riders

“Keep trying. You only fail if you quit.”

“That’s right,” Bas said. “When you fall off the horse, you need to just saddle it back up.”

I looked at him. “What if the saddle didn’t fall off? What if only you fell?”

“Speaking of horses,” Jode said.

“No horses. Go again.”

Another hour went by. Bas and I started to get punchy.

“Go to the light, Jode,” Bas said. “Your most precious inside light.”

“Just feeeeeeel it. Feel it like you mean it.”

Jode smirked. “I’m English. I don’t do anything by feeeel.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“But I know I’m fine. Still here in this chair, talking my head off, thanks to these drugs. Then I remember the things I just said and wince.

What the hell, Blake? Talk about the Kindred, fine. Talk about Marcus, Bas, and Jode. Talk about anything but her.

I want the gag back. Someone needs to unshackle me so I can punch myself.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“No mistaking his accent. He was English. And rich, judging by his threads. Double-breasted coat. Fisherman-style, but the kind you saw on runways, not gangways. He was weaving in place and reeked of alcohol.

That sealed it for me. I hauled off and punched him.

He fell gracefully. Knee, hip, shoulder. Like some part of him had decided,What the heck. I’m passing out tonight anyway. Might as well get started now.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

He grinned. “I’m not. It’s the truth.”

“Shit.”

“Hey, you got any money?”

I shook my head. How did the guy on a soldier’s paycheck become the one with the money? I dug around in my pocket, finding three dollars for him, then watched him fight with the vending machine over how flat the bills needed to be.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“A cautious man would’ve backed off. Not me. Yielding would basically have told him he’d won. I was tougher and I’d prove it. If it cost me a limb, screw it.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“In my training in the Army, I’d been exposed to a variety of weapons. Rifles. Handguns of all makes and models. RPG launchers. I’d shot a fifty-cal a few times—now, that’s a weapon. The fifty’s legit. So I think you can understand, Cordero, when I say that a sword was a little disappointing.

Sword fighting was fine in the movies, for gladiators or fighting trolls or whatever. But actually using a sword in combat? Nope. It felt tardy by a couple of centuries. Of course I’d just been in an epic fistfight, but everyone knows fisticuffs is a timeless art. Point is I wasn’t thrilled about the sword, but it was better than no sword, so I rolled with it.”
― Veronica rossi , Riders

“After a while, I couldn’t look at those stars without thinking God. And then thinking, Oh my God. You’re really real. I had the answer to the greatest mystery of all time, and I hadn’t even stopped to think about it.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“With my Jeep running on fumes, we stopped for gas. I filled the tank, then pulled a twenty out of my wallet and handed it to Bastian.

“Get us a couple bottles of water and some food, would you? I’m famished.”

Bastian cracked a grin. “That’s my line.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Gideon has OCPD tendencies,” Daryn said. She pulled my Giants sweatshirt on. It felt like her sweatshirt now.

“Say again?”

She smiled. “Obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. It’s an extreme preoccupation with perfectionism, orderliness, and neatness.”

Was that how she saw me? Like a human graphing calculator? Great. “You missed a few, Martin. I also like specifics. Thoroughness. And winning. At everything. But I gotta say as a soldier I fully support your use of acronyms.”

“Ten-four, buddy,” she said.

“In the Army we say ‘Roger that.’”

Her smile grew wider. “Ten-four, buddy.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“The chemical taste of the drugs is still in my mouth, but not as strong as when I last noticed it. Cordero’s perfume hasn’t let up, though. It is legit breaking me down. Nose hair by nose hair.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“I really need some answers.”

“I know you do.” Her hands came down. “I just can’t believe you don’t know anything.”

“Believe it.”

“How am I supposed to explain this to you?”

“With words. That’d work for me. Faster than drawing pictures in the sand with a stick.”
― Veronica rossi , Riders

“Texas tips his chin, already smiling at what he’s going to say. “There’s gonna be horses soon, right? I can’t wait. My family trains cuttin’ horses. Best in North Texas. I’m guessin’ they wouldn’t stack up to War’s horse.” “Probably not.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Got it. So we’re going with the oldwe FedExed a horse plan. Classic. That one always works.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Sitting up in the saddle, with Daryn and the guys watching me, I was feeling pretty big-time, but my first instinct was to play everything down. Just a regular morning, tearing around a fjord on my gigantic fiery steed.

It didn’t work. I felt a grin coming on and I couldn’t hold it back for anything. I knew I looked amazing up there, with my armor and horse. All burning. I mean, how often did you see that?

“What’s up, guys?” I said, and reached down to pat Riot’s neck.

I heard someone snicker, and I peered at them. “What?”

Marcus scratched his jaw. I could tell he was trying not to smile. “Your horse, man. It’s the way he moves.”

“It’s called knee action,” Daryn said.

“Riot’s is quite high,” Jode added. He frowned and pressed his lips together, but I could hear him sputtering.

“It’s cool, G,” Bas said. “He sort of … prances. Reminds me of those Irish river dancers. You know, the ones that—”

He couldn’t even finish. He started howling. Suddenly they were falling all over themselves.

“It’s ’cause he’s so big, you idiots,” I said. “He’s like a tank. And look at all this mud. He has to have permanent four-wheel drive.”

I shut myself up, because I was only making it worse. Riot and I had to just wait it out. But I didn’t really care. I knew we were the best.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Anna asked.

Mom looked like she’d been crying, but she said, “Nothing, sweetie.”

“Who is Dad talking to?” I asked. I knew she’d protect us from whatever was happening, so I went straight for facts. If I gathered enough facts I could figure it out on my own.

“Some friends of his from work.”

“Uncle Jack?” I asked. Jack wasn’t an uncle but we called him that. He was my dad’s foreman in the roofing business.

“No, honey. From the Army. His old work.”

It was September 11, 2001, and the call he’d made was to his commanding officer in the Reserve. I’d figure that out later.

And I’d learn that he’d done ROTC through college, then served with the Fifth Special Forces Group in Desert Storm. I’d learn that his shoulder injury had come from shrapnel embedded in his rotator cuff. I’d learn, just from watching him, from listening to him talk to his buddies, about Ranger School. Jump school. The Ranger Battalions. The Scroll. The Creed. That Rangers lead the way.

But I didn’t know any of that then. I knew my dad as a roofer. A fisherman. A lover of Pearl Jam and Giants baseball. He was the guy who launched me over the waves on the beach, and who bench-pressed Anna because it made her giggle in a way that nothing else did. He was my mom’s best friend, with some additional elements like kissing that seemed pretty gross because, you know, I was six. But I learned something new about him that morning.

I learned that when bad things happened, my dad stepped forward first.

I learned he was a hero. A real one.

And that I wanted to be like him”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Please continue. The creature you mentioned—the one with the wings. Was it one of the Kindred?”

I nod. “He’s called Alevar. Creepy little dude. But I’m going to need a health break before I go any further.”

I do need to use the facilities, but I also need a moment. The memory of being with Daryn is so real, it’s like I can still feel her head on my chest. I have to shake it off. I just need a second to lock it back down.

Cordero frowns. “Health break?”

I was trying to be tactful but I guess she wants details, which I can respect. “I gotta hit the head. And trust me. You don’t want to keep War away from a toilet when he needs one.”

Texas and Beretta laugh right away. They know I’m messing around, but I’ve really scared the civvie. The look on Cordero’s face is priceless.

“I’m just playing with you, Cordero. I drank all that water. It’s just biology. You know. Natural.”

“Five-minute break.” Cordero pushes up from her desk. “You know your orders,” she says to Texas. “Make sure everyone is on alert.”

“I don’t have to go that bad”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“As a general rule, I didn’t like guys who styled their hair like they just woke up. Messiness should never be a goal. It should be a consequence.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“How about you?” I asked, trying to keep words happening. “Play any sports?”

“I might have.”

“Instruments?”

“No.”

“Did you grow up in a state that starts with the letter A, M, or T?”

Her lips did this twisty thing to the side.

“Isn’t that how we’re doing this? Process of elimination?”

Daryn brushed some sand off her jeans. “The less we do of this, the better it’ll be for both of us.”

I started laughing. I didn’t know what had just hit me. Daryn laughed too, more at me than with me, but it didn’t matter. I enjoyed it.

“You run a pretty good defense, Martin. You know that?”

“I’ve gotten better.”

“Does this mean you’re not going to tell me about the downloads you get? Or how often you get ’em? Or how long you’ve been doing this? Like, is this your first assignment, or have you been seeking—seekering?—your whole life? And, like, when you saw me—you said you saw me—was I excelling at protecting secret powerful objects? Doing epic War shit? How amazing was I, is basically what I want to know. But in specifics. Did I look really-really awesome or just kind of good? Wait, wait—I looked prime. Didn’t I, Martin?”

“Are you done?”

“With my opening questions?”

She shook her head. “Wow.”

“You don’t have to answer.”

“I know I don’t.” She reclined her seat and put her feet up on the dash. I thought the subject was closed because she shut her eyes, but then she said, “It’s not often you meet people who are so persistent.”

“How often do you meet people who are War?”

She peered at me and gave a little shrug, like you’re really not all that special. Then she closed her eyes again.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders

“Exactly. It all just seems so arbitrary and political and”—come on, Blake, finish strong, puritanical, pathological, perforated, Panamanian—“weird.”
― Veronica Rossi, Riders