I'm A Werewolf, Not A

I Was Just Wondering If You Were Armed. You Want Anything? Dagger, Maybe?" He Opened His Own Suit Jacket Just A Bit, And Simon Saw Something Long An Metallic Glinting Against The Inside Lining. "no Wonder You And Jace Like Each Other So Much. You're Both Crazy Walking Arsenals.

When I First Arrived In London, I So Quickly Tired Of Being Surrounded By So Many People That It Was Only With Great Difficulty That I Refrained From Seizing The Next Unfortunate Who Crossed My Path And Committing Violent Acts Upon Their Person.

There Was Something About Jace, Though, That Made Her Want To Push Him, Crack That Shell Of Cynicism And Make Him Admit Her Believed Something, Felt Something, Cared About Anythinng At All.

Forsooth, I No Longer Toil In Vain, To Prove That Demon Pox Warps The Brain. So Though 'ti Pity, It's Not In Vain That The Pox-ridden Worm Was Slain: For To Believe In Me, You All Must Deign.

No, I'm Just A Very Naughty Boy. I Do All Sorts Of Bad Things. I Kick Kittens. I Make Rude Gestures At Nuns.