Rache,” he said, trying to get into my line of sight. “What more do you need? God to send a telegram?" (Jenks)

I’d given up on the white picket fence after Kisten had died—finding out my kids would be demons was the nail in the coffin.

You should be dead," he said, his voice full of wonder. "How is it that you're still alive?" Jaw clenched, I worked at his grip on me, trying to get my fingers between him and my wrist. "I work hard at it.

You are the devil to talk to, Rachel," he said curtly. "Will you shut up and listen?

Join us next time for Days of the Undead when Rachel learns her long lost brother is really a crown prince from outer space.

I won’t snatch, harm, or scare to death people with you or use checking up on you as an excuse to cause trouble. You’re worse than my mother, Rachel.” “Mine, too,” Jenks muttered.

Her tiny hand gripped mine with a surprising warmth, and in a shocking wash of emotion, I felt everything I knew shift. The scent of cinnamon and baby powder hit me, and as my eyes widened, my heart melted, making room for her.