You bought a prostitute on our date!

...she was faced with an annoying, irritating Demon. One she wasn’t allowed to kill. Unless she made it look like an accident. But she had a feeling that even the lazy heifers in the Legal Department would get suspicious if she wrote under cause of death; fell on my hatchets seventeen times.

Killing the Demon right now? What would she do with a decomposing Demon corpse stinking up the place, his blood ruining the carpets? Sure, she could use the fridge to store the corpse, but what about all the food? Until she found a way out of this hell hole, the Demon would have to remain breathing. Damn it.“I’m Galen by the way. Galen Darvyn.”And now she knew what name to carve on his tombstone, handy.

Stephanie had never had to put any real effort into seducing a man before, but she had faith in her innate abilities. She was a highly trained Valkyrie; they didn’t know how to fail. No doubt when faced with even a small fraction of her effort, Galen would fold immediately. Just like a Jokaltist Demon when you punctured their throat sac.

Stephanie wasn’t one for getting chatty after sex, or before, for that matter. Silent, disposable partners were kind of her sweet spot. But she’d often found the male of the species did not get the value of quiet time. They were all - that was amazing. You are amazing. That thing you did with your leg? above your head? amazing. When can I see you again? Let me give you my digits. Hey, why are you just walking away?

Honestly, men.  Always trying to exert their dominance.  What these two didn’t understand was that in this Library, Patricia was Ming the Merciless, Mistress of all she surveyed.  And she did not have time in her busy schedule for this shit.

Hey.”  Erik was now eye level with Cara’s breasts and thoroughly enjoying the view.  Maybe he should try and strike up a conversation.  “Come here often?”“Are you talking to my breasts again?”  Cara huffed in exasperation.“Oh… do that again, the huffing thing.”Cara grabbed a fistful of the hair on his clearly undamaged head and yanked so Erik was forced to sit up and make actual eye contact with her.  “I can’t tell if you’re brain damaged or if you’ve always been like this. 

...she was faced with an annoying, irritating Demon. One she wasn’t allowed to kill. Unless she made it look like an accident. But she had a feeling that even the lazy heifers in the Legal Department would get suspicious if she wrote under the cause of death; fell on my hatchets seventeen times.

Nothing drives home a win more absolutely for the Sanctuary than a severed head delivered in a Hello Kitty box, topped with a big gingham bow.