Conversation Was Irrelevant. Only Pie Mattered.

I Had A Standing Arrangement With God: I'd Agree To Believe In Him—barely—so Long As He Let Me Sleep In On Sundays.

A Loud Booming Noise Interrupted Us, And We Saw A Flash Of Light Off To My Right. People Near The Other Garages Screamed. "there, You See?" Asked Abe, Quite Pleased With Himself. "a New Gate. Perfect Timing.

Angeline's Been Hanging Out With That Dhampir. I Just Saw Them Walking Off Together. Is Something Going On With Them?" "which Dhampir?" I Asked. "the One With The Fake British Accent." "i Don't Think It's Fake." "well, Whatever." Even I Could Read The Jealousy In Trey's Features. "what's Up With Them?" "pretty Sure There's Nothing." "then Why Are They Always Together?" Because She's Trying To Get Over You, I Thought.

I Also Never Would Have Imagined I'd Quote Back A Church Lesson, But When The Rest Of The Crowd Stood Up To Take Communion, I Found Myself Saying To Dimitri: "don't You Think That If God Can Supposedly Forgive You, It's Kind Of Egotistical For You Not To Forgive Yourself?" "how Long Have You Been Waiting To Use That Line On Me?" He Asked. "actually, It Just Came To Me. Pretty Good, Huh? I Bet You Thought I Wasn't Paying Attention." "you Weren't. You Never Do. You Were Watching Me.

When He Finished, He Drank From The Cup. Everyone Else Did Too, So I Followed Suit. And Nearly Choked To Death. It Was Like Fire In Liquid Form. It Took Every Ounce Of Strength I Had To Swallow It And Not Spray It On Those Around Me. "wh...what Is This?" I Asked, Coughing. Viktoria Grinned. "vodka." I Peered At The Glass. "no, It Isn't. I've Had Vodka Before." "not Russian Vodka." Apparently Not.