“My problem now was that no one was will- ing to look deep enough to see the real me that lay dormant beneath the surface. Everyone thought I was a trouble maker, the bad boy, the punk.I wasn’t. I was just broken. - Chase”

“But now I saw the real problem with chasing after a man. It wasn't a matter of being unseemly or socially unacceptable or not playing the game right. It was just this: if I chase him, I'll never really know if he cares enough to chase me.”

“It's becoming apparent that I like bad boys. That's one of my problems. They've all been bad boys. You're one too. You're a bad boy. But, I think you're a good bad boy.”

“I studied her carefully. She was strong, this one. Strong willed. Strong minded. Still, she was not an indígena. I was not certain that she was yet strong enough to hear everything. I started slowly, as if probing a stream with a stick to see what lay beneath the surface of the water.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Caitlyn protested. “I’m sure it keeps you out of trouble.”“Thierry told me I was cold. He wasn’t the first boy to say that, either.”Caitlyn winced. “Ouch.”Amalia turned toward Caitlyn. “I wish I could be more like you.”“Me? Are you kidding? Why?”“You let your emotions show on your face. They’re right on the surface, for all to see.”Caitlyn grimaced. “I thought I’d learned to control that.”“See?” Amalia copied her grimace. “Right on the surface!”“Mmph,” Caitlyn grunted unhappily.“Mmph,” Amalia copied.Caitlyn threw up her hands in defeat, then cast a quick warning look at Amalia. “Don’t you do it!”Amalia chuckled.”

“They looked at me and asked me to be merciful; they did not command, they begged ... asking for the pity that lay dormant in my soul. And now I know that if those same eyes looked at me again and asked for every drop of my blood, if they asked me to bear death, torture, or even shame, I would become as thou truly sayest—a slave.”