I didn't want to understand. Bert had been thrilled that the police wanted to put me on retainer. He told me I would gain valuable experience working with the police. All I had gained so far was a wider variety of nightmares.

When you dance with the devil, it might as well be a devil who can give you your own corner of hell to rule.

Should I eat first or accuse the Master of the City of murder? Choices, choices. -Anita

Silk didn't care if it slid over scars or smooth, untouched skin. I'd earned my right to be paranoid.

What does it mean when the monsters are so afraid of you that you make them cry? That maybe monster depends on which end of the gun your on, or that I was just that good at my job.

Who would have ever thought I'd be afraid of a zombie, any kind of zombie? Nicely ironic that.

It's not the fur or the fangs that make you a monster, not always. Sometimes, it's just where you draw the line.