My office is trashed,” he grumped as he squished across his damp carpet and took the coffee that I was holding out to him. “Why are you smiling? My fish are dead.

Okay, I like him,” I admitted. “But it takes more than a nice body, Jenks. Jeez, I do have a little depth. You’ve got a great body, and you don’t see me trying to get into your Fruit of the Looms.

I frowned, wondering if Trent would mind being the size of a fairy for a day. He could talk to the newest tenants in his garden.

A demon was asking me what I wanted. My eyes flicked to Al, and he shrugged. “What do you want?” he said softly.

Life was going on, and no one but a handful of people cared if I lived or died.

Jenks enthusiastically leaned against the counter and opened the box. Bypassing the plastic knife, he broke off about a third of it and took a huge bite. Ivy watched, appalled, and I shrugged. His mouth moving as he hummed, Jenks finished unpacking the sacks. I was half dead, Ivy was whoring herself to keep me safe, but Jenks was okay as long as he had chocolate.

I sighed. "And what am I to you, Al?" "My maid," he said brightly. "Shall we do this?