“I snapped the crossbow into the top of the mount, took a canvas bundle from the cart, and unrolled it. Crossbow bolts, tipped with the Galahad warheads.“This is my baby.” I petted the stock.“You have a strange relationship with your weapons,” Roman said.“You have no idea,” Raphael told him.“This from a man with a living staff and a man who once drove four hours both ways for a sword he then put on his wall,” I murmured.“It was an Angus Trim,” Raphael said.“It’s a sharpened strip of metal.”“You have an Angus Trim sword?” Kate’s eyes lit up.“Bought it at an estate auction,” Raphael said. “If we get out of this alive, you are invited to come to my house and play with it.”It was good that Curran wasn’t here and I was secure in our relationship, because that totally could be taken the wrong way.”

“Who is there with you?""Raphael"Kate's voice snapped. "I'll be in Atlanta in three hours. Where are you?""I said it's nothing major.""Bullshit. You wouldn't work with Raphael unless the Apocalypse was imminent and that was the only way to prevent it.”

“Thought you were--''--Raphael said--''I said, no way in hell--''Damn straight--''--and Ransom was ready to come--''--woke up and I had wings!”

“Outside I hopped into our vehicle, the taint of vampiric magic clinging to me like greasy smoke. “I feel soiled.” “Like walking into a room after a day of work, falling into bed, and realizing the sheets are covered in cold K-Y jelly,” Raphael said. I just stared at him. “With a funky smell,” he added. My Order conditioning failed me. “Ew.” Raphael grinned. “I‟m not even going to ask if that‟s happened to you.” I started the vehicle. “Has that happened to you?” “Yes.” Ew. “Where?” “In the bouda house. I was really tired and you‟ve seen that place: everything smells like sex . . .” “I don‟t want to know.” I peeled out of the parking lot."So where are we going?” “To Spider Lynn‟s house. We‟re going to dig through her trash, and if that doesn‟t work, we‟ll do some breaking and entering.” Raphael frowned. “Do you know where she lives?” “Yes. I memorized the addresses of all the Masters of the Dead in the city. I have a lot of time on my hands.” He squinted at me, looking remarkably like a gentleman pirate from my favorite romance novels. “What else do you store in your head?” “This and that. I remember the first thing you ever said to me. You know, when you carried me from the cart into the tub so your mother could fix me.” “I imagine it was something very romantic,” he said. “Something along the lines of „I‟ve got you‟ or „I won‟t let you die.‟ “I was bleeding in the bathtub, trying to realign my bones, and my hyena glands voided from the pain. You said, „Don‟t worry, we have an excellent filtration system.‟” The look on his face was priceless. “That can‟t be the first thing.” “It was.” We drove in silence. “About the K-Y,” Raphael said. “I don‟t want to know!‟ “Once I washed it out of my hair—” “Raphael, why are you doing this?” “I want to make you go "Ew‟ again.” “Why in the world would you want to do that?” “It‟s an irrepressible male impulse. It just has to be done. As I was saying, once I washed it out—” “Raphael!” “No, wait, you‟ll like the next part.”

“Kate makes good sausage," Jim said.Six pairs of eyes stared at me. Thank you, Mr. Wonderful. Just what I needed."Oh yeah," Andrea snapped her fingers. "The links? The ones we had the beginning of the month? I didn't know you made those. I thought they were bought. They were so good." Her smile was positively cherubic. Of all the times not to be able to shoot laser beams out of my eyes..."What do you put into your sausage, Kate?" Raphael wanted to know, giving me a perfectly innocent look.Werejaguars with big mouths with a pinch of werehyena thrown in. "Venison and rabbit.""That sounds like some fine sausage," Doolittle said. "Will you share the recipe?""Sure.""I had no idea you were a sausage expert," Curran said with a completely straight face.Die, die, die, die...Even Derek cracked a smile. Raphael put his head down on the table and jerked a little."Is he choking?" Dali asked, wrinkling her forehead."No, he just needs a moment," Curran said. "Young bouda males. Easily excitable.”

“You’re joking, right?”“No. I’ve been living here for a while—like a couple of years with my roommate. You know, the fucktard who put poor Raphael outside.”“Hey!” the guy yelled from inside their apartment. “I have a name. It’s Señor Fucktard!”