The car was full of unhappy people heading west. It was the Great American Family Road Trip, all right. Whaaa-hoo!

She smiled with the warmth of a penguin.

Why aren't you afraid of me? I've seen my death, and you're not it.

Al was looking at me in disbelief. “Not your lover?” “No.” “But he is Rachel candy,” Al said, his confusion too honest to be faked.

Rachel knew what she was doing. And when she didn't, she could improvise on the fly, coming up with options that left a lot of collateral damage but usually only hurt herself, not the people around her. It was one of the things he would never admit that he admired about her.

Keep your vampire mitts off me. I'm not your friggin' blood toy.

Al was cruel, vindictive, angry, elegant, powerful. He gave me strength, he gave me wisdom, not only about magic, but about myself. He was a lot like Trent, only harsher around the edges.