Mess with my weed again and I’ll be informing Daddy that there was an early casualty on the mission.” I saw him wince at my designation for Mircea and grinned.

You are nothing like Christine!" he said, in my face. "She was a responsibility, a mistake I made when young and foolish, and from whom I came to believe I would never be free!" "Then what am I?" I challenged, staring up into blazing sapphire eyes. "A joy.

He had the look of an atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.

So maybe it was just as well that my companion was more like Mulder. A coked-out Mulder with a lot of weapons, who knew that the monsters under the bed were real and would gut you.

I’d been declared—over my loud and sustained protests—Pythia, the chief seer of the supernatural world.

Pritkin and Mircea mixed like oil and water, only not so well.

Prevarication, how divine! I always did get along better with sinners.