Your hair is a tangled mess,"he said, thinking he liked it that way, like a lion's mane.

Al was standing a bare three feet away, his mood almost jovial as he took the paper and it vanished in a wash of black sparkles. “Thank you, Rachel,” he said, carefully reaching for my hand as Trent stiffened. “Welcome back, my itchy witch.

A clipboard and a hard hat could get you just about anywhere.

That’s my girl,” she said, her eyes holding a shared pain as she saw my confusion. “Al, where are you going to put her? Not in your room. She’d pull a line through you and kill you when you hog the blankets. I’ll take the waif in. I promise I’ll bring this one up properly.

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

I like the second better, but the first fits with the vampire watching what she can’t have.” I blinked. “What he can’t have,” I amended, flushing.

He didn't want Lucy to grow up feeling alone, surrounded by everything and having nothing.