Sure am glad I'm not royalty," I muttered. "I wouldn't want to have to bump uglies with someone I can't stand. On a regular basis. And no one else." "Ow!" I exclaimed, trying to yank my fingers from Trent but finding them caught. Then I colored, realizing what I'd said. "Oh… sorry," I stammered, meaning it. "That was insensitive." Trent's frown turned into a sly smirk. "Bump uglies?" he said, eyes on the table behind me. "You are a font of gutter slang, Rachel. We must do this again.

she thought I could find a way to save her soul when she died and became an undead. Right now, I was just looking to find the rent money. I’d get to my roommate’s soul later.

God, it stinks,” I said, hand over my nose as he pulled me into a long step. Al strode forward, head high. “It’s the stench of bureaucracy, my itchy-witch, and why I chose to go into human resources when but a wee lad.

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

Have you been sniffing fairy farts?

Do you have a sleeping bag?” I stared at him. “No. I lost it in the great salt-dip of ’06.

I think she suspects something, though. We’ve had cherry pie for dessert five nights in a row.” His voice drawled, and my smile deepened.