“He sneered. "I don't fancy your type.""Why, too sober? Too much self-esteem?”

“Relax. This isn't the scary part yet.""Mmm, not helpful.""Try to think about puppies," he suggested. "No wait, not puppies. Think about kittens. Demons don't eat kittens. Too many hairballs.""Hey, maybe we could try not talking for a while.”

“You were just too nice to tell me to buzz off.""I did tell you to buzz off," he pointed out. "Several times.""I'm not the best with feedback.”

“Ow! Dammit!""Watch your language. This is a holy place.""Hah!" I grumbled. "If it's so holy, why don't they have a holy elevator? Or a holy librarian who can go fetch the blasted book for us?”

“She takes after her father.""Uh, I guess," I said, unsure how to respond. Bud's reputation was too far down the toilet for it to be a compliment.”

“You can't deny we work well together. I could be your sidekick, if you want. Like Superman and Lois Lane. Or Peter Pan and Tinker Bell.""Tinker Bell isn't menacing.""Which proves how much you need me," I insisted. "Fairies are terrifying."He sat up straighter and dusted off his pants. "Fairies don't exist. Neither do Graymasons.""That's what humans say about vampires and werewolves," I argued. "So we're agreed.”

“Just because a guy wears glasses and smiles at you doesn't mean he's nice." Lisa dug around in her purse for a tube of lip-gloss. "Maybe he's a visually impaired cannibal. Did you ever think of that? Like one of those serial killers you love so much.""I don't love serial killers," Katie argued, defensive. "Not romantically, at least.”