You Bet Your Grannie's Panties

Teens Like A Lot Of The Same Things Adults Do: Smart People Doing Amazing Things Against Awful Odds.

Rachel,” Came A Raspy Voice From The Upper Level, And Both Trent And I Turned. It Was Quen, Wrapped In A Blanket As If It Was A Death Shroud, The Black-haired Intern At His Side, Supporting Him. His Hair Was Plastered To His Skull With Sweat, And I Could See Him Wavering As He Stood There. “don’t Touch Trenton,” He Said, His Gravelly Voice Clear In The Hush, “or I’m Going To Have To Come Down There…and Smack You Around.

Shot Me Twice. I Want My Name, Or I'm Going To Start Charging You A Fee Every Time I Field Something For You. And It's Going To Be Expensive. I'm Park Place. Bud-dy." His Red, Goat-slitted Eyes Squinted At Me From Over His Smoked Glasses. "you're More Like Oriental Avenue Right Now, Dove. What Are You On?

A Demon Was Asking Me What I Wanted. My Eyes Flicked To Al, And He Shrugged. “what Do You Want?” He Said Softly.

The Gentle Sound Of Her Words Became The Shushing Of My Blood In My Head, And I Listened, Hovering On The Edge Of Consciousness, Bathed In The Oblivion Of Whatever Drug They Had Given Me.