crafted To kill 9

Why is there a chaotic horde of shifters currently using my ancient velvet roses for target practice? You all collect family members like some people collect bottles. And Im pretty sure Ares has his own palace."
"Statistically speaking, the Vane family functions best as a collective ecosystem. If we leave the wolves at the Manor, Julian gets lonely, and when Julian gets lonely, he starts automating the kitchen appliances. Trust me, you don't want a sentient toaster operating in your lower sectors."

​"Sometimes," Hades murmured, his dark eyes glinting with a cold, aristocratic exhaustion, "I think I would be doing the entire cosmic timeline a massive administrative favor if I simply flipped the switch and turned the lot of you into dust."
​Lewis let out a soft, thoroughly amused chuckle, tapping his tablet with his stylus. "How delightfully nostalgic. Honestly, it's funny that is definitely not the first time we've heard that threat."

​it's probably not the last."
​
"Look, landlord, our demonic smart-fridge completely ate the guest house power grid because of Lilith's hellfire calibration. We're totally out of sugar for the pancakes. Also, do you happen to have a spare relic scythe lying around in the garage? The lawnmower won't start and Russ wants to trim the black velvet hedges so the wolves can play fetch properly."
​Hades stared at the mortal engineer. The Lord of Tartarus, Master of the Deep Abyss, Keeper of the Eternal Ledger, was being asked for baking ingredients and landscaping tools by a werewolf in oven mitts.
​"I am a Lord of the Dead," Hades whispered, as he shot a tense glance toward the horizon, praying Sebastian wasn't within earshot. If the Shadow King heard him claim any sort of supreme crown over the Underworld, Sebastian would gladly drag Hades into a personal hell of his own making. "I do not possess a... garage."
​"Right, right, weapon vault, whatever," Julian waved his hand dismissively. "