“She's not your type.Since when do I have a type?”

“Do you have a finger stick?” she snapped. “No.” “Then let me cut your finger.” “You’re already bleeding,” I said. “Use your blood.”

“Hey!" I exclaimed, seeing the total. "They're charging me retail. Glenn!" I complained. "They can't do that." I shook it at him. "I shouldn't have to pay retail!" "What did you expect? You can keep that. It's your copy." I sat back in a huff and shoved it in my bag with my sticky scarf as he typed his slow, painful way through my report. "Where's this human compassion I keep hearing about?" "That's it, baby doll," he said, voice smoother than usual. He was laughing at me.”

“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 am black,” she said, and a shudder rippled through me. “I am foul with a thousand years of demon curses. Don’t cross me or I will bring you and your house down. Rachel is the only clean thing I have, and you won’t sully her to further your high ideas.”

“I hate it when she tabs a line," Ivy whispered to Kisten in the corner. "You ever see anything freakier than that?" "You should see the face she makes when she—" "Shut up, Kist!" I exclaimed, my eyes flashing open to find him grinning at me.”

“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.”