What’s Going On?” He Demanded. “the Usual,

Okay, God, I Thought. Get Me Out Of This And I’ll Stop My Half-assed Church-going Ways. You Got Me Past A Pack Of Strigoi Tonight. I Mean, Trapping That One Between The Doors Really Shouldn't Have Worked, So Clearly You're On Board. Let Me Get Out Of Here, And I’ll...i Don’t Know. Donate Adrian’s Money To The Poor. Get Baptized. Join A Convent. Well, No. Not That Last One.

You'd Give Up Drinking To Go See Your Dad?" "well, Not Permanently," He Said. "that'd Be Ridiculous. But Maybe I Could Switch To Something Slightly Cheaper For A While. Like...slushes. Do You Know How Much I Love Those? Cherry, Especially.

I Stared. "canadian Satanists? You're Sending Me To A Group Of Canadian Satanists?

Do You Believe In Fairy Tales?" "what...what Kind Of Fairy Tales?" "the Kind You Aren't Supposed To Waste Your Life On.

The Problem With Having So Many People Call Me By Nicknames Was That When Someone Called Me By My Actual Name, It Usually Meant Something Serious Was Happening.