39 Quotes by Ben Reeder

It was kind of disturbed, but I’ve only ever seen normal from a distance anyway.

The man came over to me and looked at my pentacle with open disdain. “Remove that obnoxious bauble from my sight,” Thraxus demanded. “My house, my rules. You don’t like it, you can go.” “When did you gain faith?” he asked. I shrugged.

Trevor, you are not to let my son leave your sight unless he’s where I can see him. If he’s not trying to find what he’s supposed to be looking for, he should be doing whatever other lessons you have for him, or something else that builds character and isn’t fun. Do you understand me?” “Of course, Mar- I mean, Miss Murathy. Chance will be very productive this weekend, I can assure you.

Okay,” he said after a moment. “So, maybe you’re not evil. But you still use black magic. That’s a fact.” He crossed his arms and gave me a defiant look. “It’s more of a plaid magick, really,” I told him. “Kind of a tartan, really, if you’re going to be giving it a color,” Lucas grinned. “Now you’re being childish.

The sun was still bright, the sky still blue, and the morning was still too damn perfect. How was I supposed to be all moody and angst-ridden in this kind of weather? I felt a good brood coming on, and I needed gray clouds and rain to set the scene. Sunday evidently hadn’t gotten the memo, because it kept up the brood-killing ray of sunshine bit. Not even a cloud dared show itself against the azure sky as we drove along.

So, how do you know how to read this forgotten language?” “Demon’s apprentice, remember? Besides, it’s not forgotten. You just really don’t want to meet anything that speaks it.

No one knows how you get with girls,” she shot back. “It’s like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. Lots of stories, but no hard evidence.

Dani was looking at me with a look on her face of disbelief, mingled with hope. Lucas had a huge grin on his face, while tears streaked down Wanda’s slack face as she touched her pentacle reverently. Donovan was frowning like he’d just seen a gorilla sing opera.

Magick was shaped by the will, and the will, as much as most magi hated to admit it, was fueled by emotion. I’d seen rage drive people to impossible acts of stupidity, and love drive them to superhuman acts of courage and strength.