“Reyes Farrow. Because perfection is a dirty job, but someone has to do it.”

“You either fainted or you wanted a much closer look at the cracks in the tile. Either way, you hit hard.""Seriously?"He nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't have been trying to make out with him," he suggested.How did he know that? "I was kissing him good-bye."He snorted and exchanged glances with the nurse. "That's not what it looked like to me."Probably not. But what happened? Could Reyes Farrow take control over me even from a freaking coma? I was doomed.”

“Damn it. Reyes could be such a butthead. Freaking Antichrists.”

“Charley: If you‘re not going to tellme where you are, if you‘re not going to trust me to help you, then why are you here? Why bother?Reyes: Because you‘re the reason I breathe.”

“For one week, all I could think about was drinking margaritas--well, that and running my tongue along Reyes's teeth--but I didn't have salt--or Reyes's teeth. I'd also lacked the energy to leave my apartment to get some--or the desire to stoop low enough to beg Reyes to let me lick his teeth after what he did--so I could only wish for a margarita. And dream of Reyes's teeth.I'd secretly hoped a margarita would magically appear in my hand, but that would mean I would have to put down the remote, and God knew that was not going to happen.”

“—Tienes que dejar de pensar como una humana —sugirió Angel.—No me estás ayudando. Busca a Reyes.—Estoy aquí —dijo Reyes desde un rincón—. Viendo cómo te patean el culo. Otravez.Su gruesa túnica negra ondulaba a mi alrededor, lo que no mejoraba en absoluto elsúbito balanceo del mundo. Sin duda se trataba del Reyes incorpóreo. Los Beecher no loveían.—Haz algo —le dije a Reyes cuando conseguí librarme de las manos de Dewey porsegunda vez.—¿Puedo romperle el cuello a la vieja?—No.—¿Y a él?Eso tuve que pensármelo.”

“I can hear other things, too. Before you came around, I had no idea a man could make a girl scream like that. Reyes seems very talented.”