I stare at him, waiting to hear more of this fairytale he’s telling. “And?”
“It could have gone better,” he admits with a smirk.
“You told me what you’re telling me now? Supposedly,” I add quickly, because I don’t believe any of this.
“I explained everything.” He leans back with a carefree shrug. “Of course, you didn’t take it very well, but you came around eventually.”
“I did?”
“There was a lot of . . . evidence that proved I was telling you the truth.” He hesitates like he’s unsure of how much to say. He ends up saying nothing more.
“Like . . . strange animal attacks?” I probe gently.
He doesn’t respond. His expression grows serious as he leans toward me again. “I promised you that night that I would come back. That it wouldn’t be another three years. I did. I came back a week later.”
I stare into his eyes, struck by the dark clouds that have rolled in. The crisp blue darkens to take on a stormy ocean quality.
As impossible as all of this is to believe, I hear myself whisper, “Why don’t I remember?”
“I don’t know,” Luca admits. “When I left you the night of your birthday, you remembered me. You remembered everything. A week later, you looked right through me. You had no idea who I was. Someone got to you. Someone . . . messed with your memories of me and of that night.”
“How . . .” I laugh at myself and the absurdity of the questions I have—because they mean I’m falling for this wild story Luca is telling. “How can someone mess with my memories?”
Luca gazes at me for a few seconds, as if considering his answer. Finally, he says, “We have limited access to magic. It can do powerful things. Even . . . that.”
“Magic? Wow. Just when this couldn’t get any less believable.”
He looks at the floor and nods. “It’s part of being a shifter. There’s a magical element to it. I’m just going to leave it at that for now. There’s enough material here for you to freak out over as it is.”
“I appreciate your concern for my mental health.” I flash him a smile similar to my Hilderness work smile.
Fake. Fake. Fake.
Luca suppresses a grin. “Always thinking of your best interest.”
“Hm. That’s nice. So any insight into who this ‘someone’ could be?”
I expect him to admit that it was him—like the ultimate punchline of a joke I don’t understand. I’m not prepared for the anger that fills his eyes, nor the setting of his jaw.
“I thought I knew,” he starts. “Someone tried to hurt you the night of your birthday. I tracked them down, and I took care of it. But I found others. I spent eight months following a trail . . . that led me back here. Straight to you.”
I overlook the use of the phrase ‘I took care of it’ because I’m not sure I want to know what he means by that. And I’m more curious about what led him to Castien Valley. I suspect we’re finally getting around to talking logic, and my questions about why Luca is here are finally about to be answered.
“You’re in danger,” he says, putting an end to that hope.
“I’m in danger,” I repeat slowly, tasting the words.
“Yes. These recent attacks were not a coincidence.” He pauses before adding, “Which I’m sure you already know since you don’t believe in that sort of thing.”
“So those animals were purposefully trying to hurt me?”
“They weren’t animals. They were shifters.”
“Oh. We’re still on that,” I mutter under my breath.
Luca stares at me with equal parts irritation and amusement. “That is the focus of this conversation,” he reminds me. “Those shifters were nothing but pawns. They were doing the dirty work, but someone else is behind it.”
“Who?”
His jaw clenches. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Possibly the same someone who messed with my memories?”
“I think so.” Luca nods.
I want to laugh, but I can’t. He’s too serious. He is certain of everything he has said. I hate to admit that it is difficult not to believe him when he looks at me the way he does. I feel silly for going along with this for as long as I have, but I can’t stop. Something propels me forward, in search of answers.
“Why would anyone want to hurt me?” I ask him. “What have I done?”
Luca blinks as if surprised by my question. One of his hands flinches in my direction. Then it drops. It hangs at his side, as undecided as he is.
“You haven’t done anything, Sav,” he finally says. “I think it could be someone trying to get to me. My family is . . . influential in the shifter world.”
I suppose that makes sense. I don’t know much about the Caspans, but I do know that they have money. It’s plausible that someone dislikes Luca’s family enough to attack them, but the rest of Luca’s explanation doesn’t make a bit of sense.
“Why would anyone go through me to get to you?” I ask him.
He stares at me. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. Not when he pulls the shades from his eyes and finally gives me a glimpse at his inner-most thoughts. In that brief moment, he is as easy to read as a book.
It’s not a typical guy-likes-girl interest I see, but something more. Something deeper. Something I’m not capable of processing yet.
I sink into my seat on the swing. “Oh.”
He gives me a lopsided grin, and my insides start to dance to the Marvin Gaye in my head. Dammit, there’s a dimple. Cue the head rush and mysterious case of giggles.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” he mutters, but his grin doesn’t go anywhere.
“That’s not—I don’t—” I shake my head to clear the fog. “I’m not good at this.”
“At what?”
I freeze, suddenly worried I read him wrong. “Nothing. Um . . .”
“Sav?” He holds my gaze. “In case it’s not obvious enough for you . . .”
I wait for him to spell it out for me, but he doesn’t. Whatever he was about to say is forgotten when his head suddenly turns over his shoulder. The conversation is over, and I’m still confused.
“Luca?”
“They’re here.” His jaw hardens. “We’re not alone.”
My spine straightens. The shift in Luca’s demeanor suggests that this is not a visit by welcomed guests. I’m seconds from jumping up and making a run for it when I hear stomping on the stairs. Too late.
I glance behind Luca to spot one of the DeGraw boys. That’s odd because I thought they were friends. I study Luca again and notice he looks more annoyed than angry. Not threatened.
My pulse slows a little, and I settle back in my seat as the newcomer approaches.
He’s the older, more intimidating of the two, but I still don’t know if it’s Ryse or Ryder sauntering toward us. He doesn’t say a word. He shares a look with Luca that I can’t decipher, glances at me, and then turns to let himself in the front door.
I search for another car beside mine, but there isn’t one. Nor is there a boat pulled up onto the sandy shore of the lake. No bicycle, scooter, airplane, or any other form of transportation.