What's the woman doing there?" he asked. "Covering a scratch on the hood. She was cheaper than a new paint job." He flipped through a few more pages of barely dressed women and classic cars. "Nick used to have magazines like this when we were kids. But without the cars." He rotated a photo sideways. "Or the bathing suits.

Nuh-uh. No deals with the devil. I’ve learned my lesson on that one. ~Jaime Vegas

We have Kenjii. We have my cell phone. Since we aren't officially dating, I'm sure you'll agree that's all the protection we need.

Maybe I'm being selfish, but I choose you." He leaned over, lips brushing mine as he whispered, "I always choose you.

So I was right, wasn't I? It's still you, even in wolf form.' He grunted. No sudden uncontrollable urges to go kill something?' He rolled his eyes. Hey, you're the one who was worried.' I paused. 'And I don't smell like dinner, right?' I got a real look for that one. Just covering all the bases.

Oh my God. You're a witch-hunter. I'm a witch. Hate to break it to you Daniel, but if you're a witch-hunter? You're doing it wrong." He gave me a sidelong smile. "Maybe it's not that kind of hunting." "Then you're definitely doing it wrong.

He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt and had stopped in the middle of the hall, furiously scratching one bare forearm. "Fleas?" I said.