#caleb jansen

Tell him we’ll go to a nice crypt soon, have some ghoul buffet.” “Wow, you really are playing favorites. I’m jealous.” Caleb cocked his head, then rolled his eyes. “It was a joke. John doesn’t like you better. Uh, no. Some people consider mortal foolishness a plus.” Sometimes John wished he could be privy to both sides of their conversations. “I love you equally.” “Hear that, you smug bastard?” Caleb asked Gray.

May I tell you a story?” he asked. “Can I stop you?” Caleb shot back, without thinking. A wry twist of the lips lightened Starkweather’s face, but only marginally. “In theory.

Putting a hand to Caleb’s skinny knee, he said, “Ready?” Caleb glanced up, and John caught a flash of nervousness before he tamped it down. “You really are a cheap date. Can’t we ever go somewhere besides a crime scene?” “Not on a governmental salary.

Basically, anyone possessed won’t be able to cross the threshold.” “Great. So if there’s a fire, I get to sit here and cheerfully burn to death?” “Pro tip: don’t become an arsonist while I’m gone.” “I’ll do my best. Let’s say I’m happily dying in a fire, and I spot a horrible car wreck outside the window. What then?” Starkweather pointed at a piece of paper beside the phone. “I already wrote down my cell number. You can call me—or 911—to save any mangled pedestrians, little old ladies who need to cross the street, or kittens stuck in trees.” Ass. But a charming ass.