“Pritkin muttered something that sounded fairly vicious. “My clothes are warded! Even if I wished to accede to your demand, it would not work on them.”“Then strip.”“I beg your pardon?” He sounded almost polite suddenly, as if he believed he couldn’t possibly have heard right.”

“Looks like you’re naked.”His jaw worked as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I beg your pardon?”“Beg all you want, you’re still going to be naked.” Tabitha paused at the wicked image in her mind. “Come to think of it, a gorgeous, begging, naked man… that’s the stuff of fantasies. Begging won’t get you your clothes, but it could get you something else.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.”

“Keep your shirt on," she said with a laugh at her bad joke. "Your clothes are at the laundry. They'lldeliver them as soon as they're ready.""And in the meantime?""Looks like you're naked."His jaw worked as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I beg your pardon?""Beg all you want, you're still going to be naked." Tabitha paused at the wicked image in her mind."Come to think of it, a gorgeous, begging, naked man… that's the stuff of fantasies. Begging won't getyou your clothes, but it could get you something else." She wiggled her eyebrows at him.”

“Believe me," he continued, "I want nothing more than to smite her out of existence.But I can't.Not until I have concrete evidence."Smiting sounded good to me,but, as much as I hated it,I knew he was right. "Man,politics suck," I muttered.”

“No, they're contemporary witch hunters, based in Russia."The crease deepened. "Hold on a moment. They sound like assholes?"I blinked, uncertain I'd heard him correctly. "I beg your pardon?"Jesus grimaced and pointed at his head. "It's this tiny human brain-I have to have a filing system for all this information or I can't keep track of it all. It sounds like these guys would be filed under Assholes Who Do Evil Shit in My Name.""Jesus. I mean, wow. That's the name of one of your files?""One of my largest, unfortunately.”

“His room was dark until he switched on his desk lamp. I sat on the floor next to his bed and watched him counting clothes and considering shoes. He seemed so boyish right then—like he wished his mom would just come in and pack for him. I couldn’t possibly love him any more than I did at that moment.”