“I have lots of faith," the fallen angel said as he crouched down and coaxed the dog closer. "I have faith that this is a bad idea. She's not going to belive you. She's going to think we're nuts. She's going to call the police unless she has a record, and if she does she'll run away.”

“I felt my shoulders ease at her admission. She was going to do what she had to do, and I was going to do what I had to do. And Ivy? Ivy was going to go insane.”

“I’m not going to pick her up and carry her screaming to the basement,” Trent said. “It’s a workday. Besides, she has a crutch.” “Crutch or no, she’s hurt!” Ceri protested. “I mean,” Trent said intently, “she can hit me with it if I do something she doesn’t like.”

“No, you just keep crashing my life. Look—" I said, and Al grunted."Here it comes," the demon muttered. "Listen. Listen to this, runt. She's going to have a list.”

“Jenks shook his head. "Rache, I really feel bad for her, but Ivy's right. She can't stay here. She needs professional help." "Really?" I said belligerently, feeling myself warm. "I haven't heard of any group therapy sessions for retired demon familiars, have you?”

“My name is Bis,” he said, “and I was kicked off the basilica because I was spitting on the people coming in. Suck-up little Glissando thinks she knows angel dust from dirt and tattled on me.”

“Her elf is going to do just that,” he said, the red glow of the ever-after sun turning his hair auburn, almost as red as mine. “I did not work this hard at getting her to accept who she is to let you take your spoiled brat of a little-boy temper tantrum out on her. She stays on my side of the lines.”