“Nick looked vaguely homicidal, but that was sort of his default expression.”

“Maybe he likes the look of Mae," Nick drawled."Don't be ridiculous."Nick raised his eyebrows. "Does he like the look of Jamie?”

“Nick spoke for the first time. "Can I go to the nurse's office too?" Ms. Popplewell looked at him It obviously took her only one look to decide. "No.""I'm traumatized too," Nick claimed, his voice completely flat."He's a delicate flower," Alan said under his breath.”

“I-" said Nick, his voice halting. "I don't mind it as much when - when people touch me. Some people."Mae looked down, and Nick, who looked more relaxed when he'd been stabbed, slowly lifted his hand from his chest and laid it on the tumbled sheets between them, fingers half-curled into his palm. He was still regarding the ceiling with a fixed glare."Because you trust them not to hurt you?" Mae asked tentatively."No," Nick said, his voice harsh. "Because I'd let them hurt me.”

“He only shot one person," Nick remarked. "But the night is young." . . . Forgive him, he has no manners."I get by on good looks," Nick said.”

“Well," Nick said as Alan gave him a stern look over the top of his glasses and Nick rolled his eyes and buckled his seat belt. "Let's examine the events of the past twenty-four hours in Exeter. Ravens in the kitchen, snakes in the living room, demon marks on you, magicians sending us stupid messages, and at the end of it all you got was the boy's telephone number.”

“Oh," Jamie offered in a bright voice. "I could cook some--""NO!" Mae, Annabel, and Nick all exclaimed as one.Annabel gave Nick a slightly startled look. He was too busy giving Jamie a forbidding look to notice. "Look, I am getting better," Jamie argued."I saw you put rice in a toaster once," said Mae. "I was there when you made that tin of beans explode.""It was faulty," Jamie protested, his eyes shifty. "I am sure of this.”