“His eyes went past us to his kids as they descended upon the mouse, who had finally made a dash for the living room and found itself in its own personal hell.”

“You pompous little bitch!” the infuriated Were shouted, red-faced and with his thugs backing him. “What are you doing here?” Mrs. Sarong pushed past the men who had put themselves in front of her. “Arranging your removal,” she said, her voice sharp and her eyes glaring. Removal? As if he were an overgrown tree clogging the sewer line? The short businessman seemed to choke on his own breath, becoming choleric. Mouth gaping to look like one of his prize fish, he struggled to respond. “Like hell you are!” he finally managed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to her about!” From my shoulder came a small, “Holy crap, Rache. How did you become Cincy’s assassin of choice?”

“Welcome home, Rachel mariana Morgan, he said, his goat-slitted eyes holding a new, dangerous light. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The memory of him tracing the lines of my face filled me. I remembered the touch of his sensitive fingers, following my jawline, running down my neck to follow the curves of my body. I remembered his warmth, his laughter, and his eyes sparkling when I twisted a phrase to mean something entirely new and naughty. I remembered the way he made me feel needed, appreciated for who and what I was, never having to apologize for it, and the contentment I found in sharing ourselves. We’d been happy together. It had been great.”

“Student food." His eyes went to the tomato on the sill. "Whatever's in the refrigerator over pasta.”

“Ready, Rachel? I’d like your opinion on the lab that was broken into.” His eyes flicked past us to the closed nursery door before coming back to us, his smile fading as he noticed Ceri’s tension. I was such a coward. “You want me to look at a crime scene? That’s a switch,” I said”

“The former world leader snarled at me when he found his balance. My face went cold, and I wondered if I’d fare better in the circle with Al.”