p208 She shrugged. It was getting tiring, not knowing anything.
p210 And when I went home, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I was so grateful that you had defended yourself. That you didn’t let me kill you.
p213 She tried to pretend she hadn’t been about to stab him with a pencil.
p218 “We’re on the cathedral,” she said again, and he thought he was missing something, some nuance lost in language, but then he realized: She was just amazed. Amazed to be perching atop the cathedral, high on the hill above Prague with everything below her. She hugged her arms around the warm bread and stood looking out, and on her face was a naked awe more potent than Akiva could ever recall feeling, even when flying was new. It was likely he had never felt any such thing. His own early flights weren’t occasion for awe or joy—only discipline. But he wanted to be part of the moment that was making her face shine like that, so he moved to her side and looked out. It
was a remarkable sight, the sky beginning to flush pale at the roots, all the towers bathed in a soft glow, the streets of the city still shadowed and aglitter with fireflies of lamplight and the weaving, winking beams of headlights.“You haven’t come up here before?” he asked. She turned to him. “Oh, yes, I bring all the boys up here.”“And if they don’t meet with approval,” he said, “you can always push them off.”
p221 “What?” she asked. “What exactly don’t I know?”
“His magic, for one thing,” said Akiva. “Your wishes. Do you know what they come from?”
“It’s not free, Karou. Magic has a price. The price is pain.”
p227 But he said, “I can’t take you. The portal is guarded. You’d be killed on sight.”
“You seraphim do a lot of that, killing on sight.”
p239 What did you just say to him?” Zuzana asked.
“I reminded him that we’re enemies.”
“Tch. Whatever you are, Karou, you are not enemies.”
“But we are,” she said, and they were, no matter how powerfully her body was trying to convince her otherwise.
“Then what are you doing, watching sunrises and drinking tea with him?”
p272 She said, “I recommend living.”
p82 In her, too, curiosity was a perverse fire, stoked by any effort to extinguish it.
p154 How much would your life have to suck to want the apocalypse?
“It would have to suck so much that your bunny slippers are your only friends.”
“It would have to suck so much that your dog wags its tail when you leave.”
“That you know all the Celine Dion lyrics.”
That you wish the entire world would end so you don’t have to wake up one more day in your crappy house—which, by the way, has no art in it whatsoever—feed your surly kids, and go to a mind-numbing job where someone is sure to have brought doughnuts to make your ass even fatter.
That is how much your life has to suck to want the Apocalypse.”
“You survived the fall,” she said. But not unscathed. Bereft of his human, he was splayed out over the ground. One arm had been crushed; he cradled it to his chest and dragged himself with the other, legs limp behind him. And his head, his awful purple head, was flattened at the temple, crusted with dried blood, and still embedded with rocks and broken glass .He gave an impatient flick of the hand. “I’ve fallen farther.”Karou was skeptical. The minaret towered overhead, the tallest structure in the city. Seeing her glance up at it, Razgut chuckled again. It was a curdled sound: mingled misery and spite. “That’s nothing, blue lovely. A thousand years ago, I fell
p 166 Home. The word might still have air quotes around it, but half of Karou’s life had been chopped off, and the other half—the normal half—was inPrague. Her tiny flat with its rows and rows of sketchbooks; Zuzana and marionettes; school, easels, naked old men with feather boas; Poison Kitchen, statues in gas masks, bowls of goulash steaming on coffin lids; even her jackass of an ex-boyfriend lurking around corners dressed like a vampire.
p176 Her smile was real when Mik began kissing Zuzana’s neck, but after a moment it began to feel a little like a Mr. Potato Head smile, plastic and stuck on.
p179 “Perfect. You look adorably pathetic. Some tourist is sure to try to carry you home as a souvenir.”
p183 The first time she’d come to Prague, she’d gotten so lost exploring these streets. She’d passed an art gallery and a few blocks later doubled back to find it, and… couldn’t. The city had swallowed it. In fact, she had never found it. There was a deceptive tangling of alleys that gave the impression of a map that shifted behind you, gargoyles tiptoeing away, stones like puzzle pieces rearranging themselves into new configurations while you weren’t looking. Prague entranced you, lured you in, like the mythic fey who trick travellers deep into forests until they’re lost beyond hope. But being lost here was a gentle adventure of marionette shops and absinthe, and the only creatures lurking around corners were Kaz and his cohorts in vampire makeup, ready with a silly thrill.
p204 She studied him, mentally correcting the drawings she’d done from memory. Her fingers itched to snatch up a pencil and draw him from life. Stupid fingers.
p206 Well, you’re lucky,” said Karou. “Here, if you want long life, you have to yank out all your teeth with pliers.”
p207 She kind of wanted to take off her boots, but that was something you didn’t do if there was any chance you might have to quickly flee or kick someone. Judging from Akiva’s plain exhaustion, she didn’t think she was in danger of either. The only danger was of foot smell.
By Laini Taylor
Once upon a time,
an angel and a devil fell in love.
It did not end well.
Around the world, black handprints are appearing on doorways, scorched there by winged strangers who have crept through a slit in the sky.
In a dark and dusty shop, a devil’s supply of human teeth grown dangerously low.
And in the tangled lanes of Prague, a young art student is about to be caught up in a brutal otherwordly war.
Meet Karou. She fills her sketchbooks with monsters that may or may not be real; she’s prone to disappearing on mysterious “errands”; she speaks many languages–not all of them human; and her bright blue hair actually grows out of her head that color. Who is she? That is the question that haunts her, and she’s about to find out.
When one of the strangers–beautiful, haunted Akiva–fixes his fire-colored eyes on her in an alley in Marrakesh, the result is blood and starlight, secrets unveiled, and a star-crossed love whose roots drink deep of a violent past. But will Karou live to regret learning the truth about herself?
Opening line: Walking to school over the snow-muffled cobbles, Karou had no sinister premonitions about the day.
Closing line: This was not the end.
“Yearning for love made her feel like a cat that was always twining around ankles, meowing Pet me, pet me, look at me, love me.”
“Skip meeting him? The butterflies, the pounding heart, the blushing? The part where you enter each other’s magnetic fields for the first time, and it’s like invisble lines of energy are drawing you together-”
p 22″I don’t know many rules to live by,”he’d said. “But here’s one. It’s simple. Don’t put anything unnecessary into yourself. No poisons or chemicals, no fumes or smoke or alcohol, no sharp objects, no inessential needles – drug or tattoo – and …no inessential penises, either.”
“Inessential penises?” Karou had repeated, delighted with the phrase in spite of her grief. “Is there such as a thing as an essential one?”
“When an essential one comes along, you’ll know,” he’d replied. “Stop squandering yourself, child. Wait for love.”
“Love.” Her delight evaporated. She’d thought that was love.
“It will come, and you will know it,” Brimstone had promised, and she so wanted to believe him. He’d been alive for hundreds of years. Hadn’t he?
p43 They were wrapped in canvas and duct taped, and when a street musician lowered his violin to enquire, “Hey lovely, what you got there?” she said, “Musicians who asked questions,” and kept on dragging.
p43 “Your body is nothing but an envelope, Karou. Your soul is another matter, and is not, as far as I know in any immediate danger.”
“An envelope?” She didn’t like to think of her body as an envelope – something others might be able to open up and rifle through, remove things like so many clipped coupons.
“I assumed you felt the same way,” he’d said. “The way you scribble on it.”
Brimstone didn’t approve of her tattoos, which was funny, since he was responsible for her first, the eyes on her palms.”
p45 Well. Getting the tusks up the Metro steps at her destination was a lot harder than dragging them down had been, and by the top Karou was exhausted, sweating under her winter coat, and extremely peevish.
p71 Karou wished she could be the kind of girl who was complete unto herself, comfortable in solitude, serene. But she wasn’t. She was lonely, and she feared the missingness within her as if it might expand and . . . cancel her. She craved a presence beside her, solid. Fingertips light at the nape of her neck and a voice meeting hers in the dark. Someone who would wait with an umbrella to walk her home in the rain, and smile like sunshine when he saw her coming. Who would dance with her on her balcony, keep his promises and know her secrets, and make a tiny world wherever he was, with just her and his arms and his whisper and her trust.
“He can’t see it. It is a condition of monsters that they do not perceive themselves as such. THe dragon, you know, hunkered in the village devouring maidens, heard the townsfolk cry ‘Monster!’ and looked behind him.”
“He was right. It made no sense at all, but the feeling flooded through Karou, and whatever it was, it was as sweet as a patch of sun on a glossy floor and, like a cat, she just wanted to curl up in it.”
“Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there’s no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.”
“Wishes are false. Hope is true. Hope makes its own magic.”
“It’s not like there’s a law against flying.”
“Yes there is. The law of gravity.”
“Happiness. It was the place where passion, with all its dazzle and drumbeat, met something softer: homecoming and safety and pure sunbeam comfort. It was all those things, intertwined with the heat and the thrill, and it was as bright within her as a swallowed star.”
“Hey! My body may be small, but my soul is large. It’s why I wear platforms. So I can reach the top of my soul.”
“Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.”
“Oh, Hell. Must. Mate. Immediately.”
“But he is pretty. God, I hope he’s not an asshole. Do you think there’s any chance he’s both non-orifice and single? I mean, seriously. What are the chances?”
“She had a sadness that was so deep, but it still could turn to light in a second,and when I saw her smile I wondered what it would be like to make her smile. I thought…I thought it would be like the discovery of smiling.”
“He actually listened, rather than pretending to listen while waiting a suitable interval before it was his time to talk again…”
“How much does your life have to suck to want the Apocalypse?”
“…You are not just going to vanish like this, Karou. This isn’t some goddamn Narnia book.”
“You were true to her, even if she was not to you. Never repent of your own goodness, child. To stay true in the face of evil is a feat of strength.”