Fury Quotes

“We will make a rattle for our child from your teeth and phalanges, and stacking toys from your vertebrae. She will teethe on your kneecaps and we will rock her to sleep whispering tales of your bloody demise.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury

“With a sigh, Gallagher began to pull glamour around him. He couldn’t entirely disguise his size in broad daylight, but he could put out the mental suggestion that his height and bulk were surely an illusion. He wasn’t standing next to anyone or anything, so perspective wasn’t an issue. And all the other parents were seated while he was standing, so of course he looked really tall.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury

“We probably should have bought a pacifier. Unless you know how to carve one from the souls of your enemies, or something like that.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury

“Why do people do this?” I demanded as the pain began to fade. Though this time, rather than disappearing, it seemed to settle into my lower back and apply for permanent residence. “You’d think that in a time when we can talk to people all over the world on a device smaller than my hand, someone would have invented a better way to bring new people into the world. This is ridiculous. Archaic.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury

“Okay. I’m ready. I need to find a bathroom on the way, though.”
Lenore shifted into Reverse and backed carefully out of the parking spot. “Can you wait till we get back to the cabin?”

“In a universe where there wasn’t a fetal warrior leading the charge against my bladder, that would absolutely be a possibility.”

Lenore snorted. “At least pregnancy hasn’t stolen your sense of humor. There’s a gas station on the corner.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury

“You said ‘if the baby needs blood,’ not ‘if the baby needs to kill.’ Does that mean we can just give her blood? Can you soak your cap in blood you didn’t shed? Will that sate the urge?”

“Yes.” But he didn’t look happy about where I was clearly taking the conversation. “In a pinch, that would keep me alive, but I doubt it would satisfy the need to rend flesh and break bones.”

“Again with the graphic descriptors.”

“Killing is an art, Delilah.” He gave me a grim smile. “Describing the act properly is a skill that requires colorful words.”

“I remember a time when you didn’t speak much. Fondly.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury

“Okay, I think we’re barking up the wrong tree. Maybe he’s not a congressman. Or not a politician. He could just be a wealthy bastard with a really sick fetish. Which probably describes ninety-nine percent of the Spectacle’s clientele.”

“Is there a search for that online?” Gallagher asked, and I couldn’t help smiling.

“That’s not exactly how the internet works.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury

“He will pay for what he did,” Gallagher insisted. “I gave you my word. And even if I hadn’t...my hands itch to spill the life from his veins. I want to hear him scream until he chokes on his own blood. I want to see terror in his eyes when he recognizes me and understands exactly why his last moments will be excruciating, and as prolonged as I can make them. Delilah, I want to craft a rattle for our child from his vertebrae.”

“Well, that’s...colorful.” I frowned at him. “Is that really something redcaps do? Make toys from the bones of your victims?”

“From the bones of our enemies, anyway. A bone rattle is a very appropriate gift for the child of a warrior.”
― Rachel Vincent, Fury