Location 5498:

“Why not? We need Gressang to believe we understand more about all of this than he does. It will take him about thirty seconds to realize you don’t know your ass from a hot rock.”



Location 6957:

“My name is Galaxy, you fucking glutton.”



Location 6985:

“Mors irrumat omnia,” Alex whispered. Death fucks us all.



Location 6996:

“Sorry,” Alex muttered. “But you have shit taste in women.”



Location 7071:

“You left me a body to find?” he’d growled at her when she’d agreed to meet him at Il Bastone. “Sorry,” Alex had said. “You’re really hard to shop for.”



Location 7125:

“So,” she said as the wind picked up, shaking the new leaves on their branches, moaning over the gravestones like a mourner lost to grief. “Who’s ready to go to hell?”