Okay, So. You, Belikov, The Alchemist, Sonya

Do What? Come Up With A Clever Pun Referencing Jerome's Demonic Status? The Truth Is, I Usually Keep A Stash Of Them On Hand And—

The Question Was Which Spell Did I Make? Which Did I Have Time To Make? The Answer Was Eerily Simple. I Had Time To Make All Of Them.

The Incident With Dawn Hadn't Been One Of My Finer Moments. I Honestly Hadn't Expected To Break Any Bones When I Shoved Her Into A Tree. Still, The Incident Had Given Me A Dangerous Reputation. The Story Had Gained Legendary Status, And I Liked To Imagine That It Was Still Being Told Around Campfires Late At Night. Judging By The Look On The Girl's Face, It Was.

Somehow, Sydney Had An Internal Clock That Told Her When Time Was Up. I Think It Was Part Of Her Inherent Ability To Keep Track Of A Hundred Things At Once. Not Me. In These Moments, My Thoughts Were Usually Focused On Getting Her Shirt Off And Whether I’d Get Past The Bra This Time. So Far, I Hadn’t.

Keeping Love Buried Was A Lot Like Jeeping Anger Pent Up, I'd Learned. It Just Ate You Up Insides Until You Wanted To Scream Or Kick Something.