“Maggots squirming in your eyeholes...and your other orifices, might be carrying things a bit too far.""This is why I keep you around, Rixon. Always seeing things from the bright side.”

“I'm touched, Rixon. A bomb. How elaborate. Why didn't you keep things simple and just march inside my bedroom one night and put a bullet between my eyes?”

“Cheshvan starts tonight," Rixon said, "What are you doing arsing around in a graveyard?""Thinking.""Thinking?""A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision.”

“What the hell?!" Vee shrieked. "Why did you shoot him Rixon?" "Citizen's arrest," he said. "Well, that, and Patch told me too.""You can't shoot people just because Patch says to!" Vee said, her eyes wild.”

“You killed my Dad." Any trace of kindness or sympathy vanished from Rixon's eyes. "Well this is awkward.”

“I watched him pitch the ball at a table neatly lined with six bowling pins, my stomach giving a little flutter when his T-shirt crept up in the back, revealing a stripe of skin. I knew from experience that every inch of him was hard, defined muscle. His back was smooth and perfect too, the scars from when he’d fallen once again replaced with wings—wings I, and every other human, couldn’t see.“Five dollars says you can’t do it again,” I said, coming up behind him.Patch looked back and grinned. “I don’t want your money, Angel.”“Hey now, kids, let’s keep this discussion PG-rated,” Rixon said.“All three remaining pins,” I challenged Patch.“What kind of prize are we talking about?” he asked.“Bloody hell,” Rixon said. “Can’t this wait until you’re alone?”Patch gave me a secret smile, then shifted his weight back, cradling the ball into his chest. He dropped his right shoulder, brought his arm around, and sent the ball flying forward as hard as he could. There was a loud crack! and the remaining three pins scattered off the table.“Aye, now you’re in trouble, lass,” Rixon shouted at me over the commotion caused by a pocket of onlookers, who were clapping and whistling for Patch. Patch leaned back against the booth and arched his eyebrows at me. The gesture said it all: Pay up.“You got lucky,” I said.“I’m about to get lucky.”

“See, when you lie to me it hurts," Rixon said, swiping an imaginary tear. "I thought we had something special. I thought our joint eternal sentences of damnation were our bond.”