Ransom really looked at the other man for the first time, shook his head, stared again. “Holy hell, your eyes are like a fucking viper’s.” Venom raised an eyebrow. “You have hair prettier than one of Astaad’s concubines.” Ransom gave the vampire the finger. Venom grinned.
He’d thought it would be the right thing to say, but she scoffed a little… and that, more than anything—more than the prospect of having his ribs crushed in or his face pulled off or his neck stretched on a rope—scared him out of his wits.
Ocorreu-me, ali de pé, simplesmente a respirar com ela, com o sossego a reinar à nossa volta, que aquelas bem podiam ser as duas palavras mais bonitas faladas em língua de gente. 'Temos tempo.
