“Even though I couldn't see it, I had a feeling Archer was raising an eyebrow at me. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked in a low voice.I took deep breaths and tried to keep my face as impassive as possible. If anyone glanced over here, they had to think I was just talking to a waiter, not facing down an Eye in their midst. "Hecate," I said, plucking one of the glasses off his tray. "What are you doing here?"He shrugged, managing somehow to look elegant even in his waiter's uniform. "Who doesn't love a party? Plus, I thought there might be a chance you'd wear that blue dress again."My fingers tightened so hard on the crystal goblet that I'm surprised I didn't snap the stem. "You are a crazy person," I said, struggling to keep my voice calm. "Or an idiot. Or a crazy idiot person. Why aren't you at least glamoured or something?”

“My stomach sank. “I don’t want you to be miserable.”“Then don’t go,” he said. His expression was so desperate that the guilt formed a lump in my throat.“I can’t move in here, Travis. That’s crazy.”“Says who? I just had the best two weeks of my life.”“Me, too.”“Then why do I feel like I’m never gonna see you again?”

“Why do you keep staring at me?" I muttered under my breath.He glanced around to make sure no one was listening and then leaned towards me. His voice was hushed. "You have pen on your face. Here," he said, touching the space by his nose."Oh." I felt my face go red as I wiped my cheek with my hand."That and you remind me of someone I know. Or once knew. But I can't place who it is.""I thought you didn't have any friends," I challenged.Dante smiled. "I don't. Only enemies. Which doesn't bode well for you, considering the fact that you must resemble one of them.”

“He wagged his finger in my face. "You're not SUPPOSED to do anything. YOU'RE the one trying to change ME. Remember? As far as I'M concerned, YOU can do anything you want.""Except criticize you.""Hey," he said, "if that's how you want to spend your life, getting on my case"--he threw out his arms--"be my guest." He turned his deep blue eyes on me. "And anyway--" He let it hang there. He was smirking.Suddenly I felt as if I were on roller skates. "What?""I know why you're doing it."I stopped. He walked on."Doing what?" I said. "What? Why?" I think I was babbling.He flipped his answer as blithely as a candy wrapper over his shoulder: "You know.”

“"Joss""What?""What?" Dylan asked back."You just said my name.""No I didn't""Sorry that was me."I sat up, banging my head on the roof. "Who is that?""Hey, stay down here where the air is good, okay?" Dylan pulled me gently back down. "Hows your head?""Not good, I think.""Um, okay, so you here me. Heather's right, you do think loud. I mean, I've never heard you before, but my Talent seems to be a lot more selective than her's. But now that she's got me turned in to you-""Who are you?""It's still me, Marshall. It's Dylan. I'm right here.""My name's Joel.""Joel?""Joss, what are you talking about?" He took my face in his hands. "Who's Joel?""The voice in my head, I guess.""Jesus.”

“Sorry," I said..."Sorry for what?" He glanced over at me."For whatever I did wrong," I said."Did you do something?"I shrugged, "Why are you not talking to me?""I'm just driving." He moved his hand from the gearshift onto my leg. "Do you like snowmobiling?""I love it," I said.He shot me a look. "Have you ever gone snowmobiling before?""No," I said.He smiled. God, I hate his smile, I love it so much.”