“Well, something's wrong," Max said, his brow knit with concern. "After twenty minutes alone with Bennett, she's still wearing her shirt.”

“He crossed toward me, a grin curving his mouth-then he stopped. "Should I get the other blade?"I looked at the sword in my hand. "I'm waiting for the Rake."He raised a brow. "The Rake?"Oh, right, we'd never talked about him. "He's a ghost. Your ancestor. The Bennett you're named after.""What?" Bennett laughed in surprise. "Here? When did he show up?""Um...a couple days after you brought me here from San Francisco.""Why didn't you tell me?""He's private. And you're both Bennetts. It'd be like...I don't know. Traveling back in time and meeting yourself.""And you call him 'the Rake'?""Well, he's all swagger and devilish charm," I explained."In that case, how can you tell us apart?”

“Your chimp?" Bennett asked with a half laugh."Despite what you might think, that is not a term of endearment for your girlfriend!" Harry explained, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Even though she has monkey toes.”

“At school, Max searched the archives alone-Edmund had stopped appearing, and I didn't have the heart to summon him. Kylee was still acting timid and injured, and the ghost jocks were even more outrageously annoying-trying to cover their underlying nervousness, I thought.Harry and Sara couldn't feel anything wrong, but they took their cues from us, and searched the student lounges with a wariness that I'd never seen from either of them. Britta was as sneering and mean as ever, completely unchanged, and I wanted to kiss her.I managed to restrain myself.”

“I'm just a--" I looked at Yoshiro. "An unimpressive girl who doesn't want to battle ghosts and kill wraiths. There's only three things I want. To find my family. Dispel Neos. And to--" I stopped suddenly, and didn't know where to look."Yes?" Yoshiro said. "The third thing?""To be with me," Bennett said.”

“He's gone," Sara said. "I can feel it. This time for good."Natalie hugged her, and she started to sob. Then Harry shattered the silence with a pained yell, hurling his thermos into the woods. With tears in his eyes, he said, "I want a drink."I hugged him fiercely. "It'll have to be one of my special chais, Harry. Have I made you a dirty one yet?""I want mine filthy," he said. We trudged back to the museum together, and toasted Coby with dirty vanilla chai lattes.”

“We've got girls like that in Boston," he said. "Fake as her nails.”