Somehow I found him. Somehow I found Al's sarcastic thoughts, bitter and old. Tired, angry, bored. Alone.

Sure, it was nice now, but eventually there would be running and screaming and blood on the floor.

Jenks laughed, taking to the air and saying, “Give it up, FIB man. It’ll take more than you to get her out. Remember what Ivy and I did to your finest last spring? Add Rachel to that, and you can say your prayers.” From behind me came Edden’s dry “You think Ivy wants another stint as a candy striper?

See, this was why I liked coffee. You couldn’t screw up making coffee. Even the bad stuff was good.

My eyes widened at the ball of orange fluff squeezing out from under the counter, blinking and stretching. I looked again, not believing. “It’s a cat,” I said, winning the Pulitzer prize for incredible intellect.

Come on, Rachel!" Jenks shrilled. "You're a badass, not a bad witch!

Why?" I said, taking the paper from him as Al smiled. "If it's not what I agreed to, I will burn Al's gonads off the first chance I get. Turn around. I need to use your back for a second." "Ah, hold on a tick," Al said, snapping his fingers again and catching the new paper drifting down. "How silly of me. This is the one. Here.