“Maybe." I shrug. "But what I meant was, can't you use the makeup to cover it?"Miles rolls his eyes and scowls. "Oh, so I can sport a huge flesh-colored beacon instead? Would you look at this thing? There's no disguising it. It's got it's own DNA! It's casting shadows!”

“It's not that kind of love. It's the real kind. The unconditional kind. The nonjudgemental kind. Not the physical kind. I love you as a fellow soul who inhabits this earth. I love you as a fellow immortal. I love you because I finally understand what made you the way you are. And if I could change it, I would. But I can't—so I choose to love you instead. And my hope is that my acceptance of you will spur you to do something good too, but if not—" I shrug. "At least I can say I tried.”

“Close your eyes and picture it. Can you see it?"I nod, eyes closed."Imagine it right there before you. See its texture, shape, and color—got it?"I smile, holding the image in my head."Good. Now reach out and touch it. Feel its contours with the tips of your fingers, cradle its weight in the palms of your hands, then combine all of your senses—sight, touch, smell, taste—can you taste it?"I bite my lip and suppress a giggle."Perfect. Now combine that with feeling. Believe it exists right before you. Feel it, see it, touch it, taste it, accept it, manifest it!" he says.So I do. I do all of those things. And when he groans, I open my eyes to see for myself."Ever." He shakes his head. "You were supposed to think of an orange. This isn't even close.""Nope, nothing fruity about him." I laugh, smiling ateach of my Damens—the replica I manifested before me, and the flesh and blood version beside me. Both of them equally tall, dark, and so devastatingly handsome they hardly seem real.”

“You and I are meant to be. It's the only thing I'm absolutely sure of. And while I have no idea what to expect, I promise I'll do whatever it takes to find my way back.”

“Where's your car? Miles asks, glancing at him as he slams his door shut and slings his backpack over his shoulder. "And whats up with your hand?""I got rid of it," Damen says, gaze fixed on mine. Then glancing at Miles and seeing his expression he adds, "The car, not the hand.""Did you trade it in?" I ask, but only because Miles is listening. [...]He shakes his head and walks me to the gate, smiling as he says, "No, I just dropped off on the side of the road, key in the ignition, engine running.""Excuse me?!" Miles yelps. "You mean to tell me that you left your shiny, black, BMW M6 Coupe—by the side of the road?"Damen nods.But thats a hundred-thousand-dollar car!" Miles gasps as his face turns bright red."A hundreds and ten." Damen laughs. "Don't forget, it was fully customized and loaded with options."Miles stares at him, eyes practically bugging out of his head, unable to comprehend how anyone could do such a thing—why anyone would do such a thing. "Um, okay, so let me get this straight—you just woke up and decided—Hey, what the hell? I think I'll just dump my ridiculously expensive luxury car by the side of the road—WHERE JUST ANYONE CAN TAKE IT?"Damen shrugs. "Pretty much.""Because in case you haven't noticed," Miles says, practically hyperventilating now. "Some of us are a little car deprived. Some of us were born with parents so cruel and unusual they're forced to rely on the kindness of friends for the rest of their lives!""Sorry." Damen shrugs. "Guess I hadn't thought about that. Though if it makes you feel any better, it was all for a very good cause.”

“Saw you with my brother." His gaze moves over me. "Guess that explains your attraction to me-he looks just like me."His cocky grin fading when I roll my eyes in reponse."Well,you sure spend a lot of time thinking about me-searching for me-don't you,Santos?" he says,determined to make me admit the ridiculous."Don't flatter yourself,Coyote. It's an occupational hazard.Purely job related.”

“I'm not sure I handled it well," he sais,his face so open,gaze filled with such raw regret,my heart aches on his behalf."Considering the circumstances, I think you did fine.Besides,it's not like you stood a chance,her mind was make up the moment she saw you."Dace jerks back,his expression slighted,voice unsure when he says, "I don't understand..."I fumble with my lunch sack,wondering why I can never say the right thing around him.Having no way to explain in a way that won't sound completely embarrassing,when Xotichl steps in."What's not to get? You're hot-Daire's gorgeous-it's a recipe for parental distress if there ever was one.”