And then there are the rare ones who know love, who understand it. Who freely give of themselves, demanding only a return of that love,that trust.

Minias smiled. Great. Another charming demon. I sort of prefer the insane ones.

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

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.

Ku’Sox was indeed a demon. In. The. Sun. I needed answers, but I wanted them from Al, not…Cute Socks here.

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.

I have to save the world tomorrow, and I don't even know what I'm going to wear yet.--Rachel Morgan