“Behind me, Marc made a soft whistling sound, clearly impressed. “That’s not standard procedure,” he said, his tone entirely too reasonable as he leaned over the stray’s body to open the back passenger-side door. “Yeah, well, I’m not your standard enforcer.”

“I got more than I bargained for with him, too. Much more. I know he’s completely different now, but he was really nice and funny when he was human. But apparently his manners didn’t survive the transition.” Marc smiled. “Yeah, well , yours didn’t survive puberty, so you can’t really talk.”

“What took you so long?” Nash asked, as he slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed.“I stopped to donate all your underwear to the homeless. You’re gonna wanna take care of those tighty whities—they’re all you’ve got left.”He leaned against the door, either too tired or too drunk to sit up. “And to think, most people don’t understand your sense of humor.”“Fools, all of them.”

“He’d hung up. The words end call printed across the screen on my phone confirmed it. At least a minute later my bedroom door swung open to smack against my knees and Marc stuck his head around the edge to see what he’d hit. He found me still staring at my phone my robe gaping open across one thigh. “You have to push the buttons to make that work ” he said his expression completely serious. “Thanks smart-ass.”

“Leave the door open," my dad said, the second most common warning in his arsenal. Right behind, "Nash, go home.”

“How did you do it?" I brought the teacup to my mouth for another sip. "How did you guide Sophie's soul? I thought you were a reaper.""He's both," Nash said from behind me, and I turned just as he followed my father through the front door, pulling his long sleeves down one at a time. He and my dad had just loaded Aunt Val's white silk couch into the back of my uncle's truck, so he wouldn't have to deal with the bloodstains when he and Sohie got back from the hospital. "Tod is very talented."Tod brushed the curl back from his face and scowled.Harmony spoke up from the kitchen as the oven door squealed open. "Both my boys are talented.""Both?" I repeated, sure I'd heard her wrong.Nash sighed and slid onto the chair his mother had vacated, then gestured toward the reaper with one hand. "Kaylee, meet my brother, Tod.”

“She's fifteen!"Nash shrugged. "That's just a number. It doesn't say anything about her.""It says something pretty damn funny about your IQ!" I said, and he opened his mouth to retort, but I spoke over him. "Fifteen is too young to drive, too young to get a legal job, too young to sign a lease, and obviously too young to pick a boyfriend with half a brain.”