“Should I take anything?” I asked, as Shamus slammed the trunk shut. “A healthy sense of self-preservation would be good,” he said.”

“He'd already put a shirt on each leg and had stacked every shoe I owned into a precarious pyramid. The room looked like a small, overly curious tornado had torn it apart."You have got to be kidding me," I said. "Maybe I should give you to Shamus.”

“Shamus shrugged. “It’s all about energy exchange. It could always go the other way, me feeding a plant instead of drawing the life out of it.” “Do that often?” Shamus looked at me over his shoulder. “No.” “Why not? Have something against plants?” “No, but I haven’t met a vegetable good enough to sacrifice a year of my life for.”

“Shamus ordered half a cup of house brew. Then he proceeded to fill the cup up the rest of the way with milk and sugar. Lots of sugar. “Sure you got enough milk in your sugar?” I asked as we strolled out of the shop and headed south. He flipped me off. “You drink your coffee your way, and I’ll drink my coffee the right way.”

“The Mum has the temper of a demon with a diaper rash. (Shamus)”

“And wonders of wonders, they both shut up and did as I said. If I'd had time I would have pulled out my journal and made a note: Shame and Terric actually listened to me for once. Warn Hell. There's a freeze coming.”

“Shamus Flynn stood at the door halfway across the room, a bucket of ice tucked between his arm and chest, and a grin on his face."Thank God I got here in time." He tossed another volley our way. "You might have gone up in sex at any minute.”