“The human reached inside Wrath’s jacket and started pulling out weapons. Three throwing stars, a switchblade, a handgun, a length of chain. “Jesus Christ,” the cop muttered as he dropped the steel links on the ground with the rest of the load. “You got some ID? Or wasn’t there enough room in here for a wallet, considering you’re carrying about thirty pounds of concealed weapons?”

“Ah, yes, the departmental shrink. And in the silence that followed, he knew everyone was waiting for him to groan, but he wasn’t a Lethal Weapon wild card, damn it.Yeah. For example, he couldn’t dislocate his shoulder, he didn’t live on the beach with a dog, and he wasn’t rocking a death wish. You’re welcome.”

“V shook his head. “Remember what you saw in that clearing, cop? How’d you like that anywhere near a female you loved?”Butch put down the Bud without drinking from it. His eyes traveled over Rhage’s body.“We’re going to need a shitload of steel,” the human muttered.”

“When order in study was finally reestablished, Wrath looked downright nasty. "Next one of you mouthy assholes makes me pound my desk again, I'm throwing you the fuck out." On that note, he reached down, picked up the cowering ninety-pounds retriever, and settled George in his lap. "You're freaking out my dog and it's pissing me off.”

“One more thing.""What.""I think we're dating now." As V barked out a laugh, the cop shrugged. "Come on....I got you naked. You wore a damn corset. And don't get me started about the sponge bath afterward.""Fucker.""To the end.”

“Tell me this isn't permanent""No, you have to give me my weapon back at the end."Har-har, hardy-har-har. "I'm talking to Jim.""No, it's not," the angel answered from out of Veck's mouth. "I can get free as easily as I got in.""You sure about that?""Nope.""Fabulous.”

“Our boy looks impressed.” “Should be,” Rhage muttered as he jacked the belt on his robe. “We are awesome.” Multiple groans at that point. Rolled eyes. “At least he didn’t pull out the ‘totes amazeballs,’” somebody muttered. “That’s Lassiter,” came an answer. “Man, that son of a bitch has got to stop watching Nickel-fucking-odeon.”