Keeping to the edge of the pathway, I was careful not to bother the joggers and people walking their dogs. There were a lot of people out, and as the day progressed, the park would be packed. I could already hear childlike shouts and giggles coming from the playground.
I came to Centennial Lake often, at least once a week for the last year or so. I loved being outside, taking pictures even though I knew I probably wasn’t that good at it. Mom said my film was great and that I had talent. So did Zoe and Heidi. James wasn’t interested unless the photos were of hot chicks in bikinis. Usually April laughed at my pictures. That was if she was paying attention when I shared them.
I doubted Mom or Zoe would tell me I was terrible. Sucking didn’t matter, though. It wasn’t why I took pictures. I did it because of how it made me feel.
Or how it didn’t make me feel.
My brain just sort of emptied out while I had a camera in my hand. I didn’t think about anything—about how scary the invasion had been. I didn’t think about the surreal quality of the last four years or what had happened the night at the club. I sure as hell didn’t think about the kiss that didn’t even count as a real kiss. Or everything my mom had told me.
The camera put a wall up between the world and me, and it was an escape, one I looked forward to. I cut off the pathway and trekked up a small mound that overlooked the playground, then sat down. Laughter and squeals drew my attention and I lifted the camera, catching a small girl darting from the slides to the swings, her pigtails bouncing. Another kid, a little boy, nearly belly-flopped off the swing, letting the seat spin back. I caught the empty seat swinging, snapping a picture of it floating, the seat cockeyed in flight.
I sucked in a shallow breath, feeling a sudden burn in the back of my throat.
I slowly lowered the camera and watched kids race back and forth from one playground set to another. Everything about them was carefree and happy. Innocent. They were lucky. None of them remembered that utterly all-consuming fear. None of them remembered what it was like to go to bed wondering what kind of world we were going to wake up in come morning, if there would even be a world. They had the freedom the rest of us had had the minute and second before our lives had imploded.
The invasion had been so traumatic that I had a hard time remembering anything before it. I mean, I could remember things, but those memories were fuzzy and faint compared to that night the Luxen came and the days afterward. I’d looked it up once, to see if that was common, and it was. These kids, though, they’d never have—
Stop.
Closing my eyes, I forced a long, deep breath out. When I held the camera, I didn’t think. When I took a picture, I didn’t feel.
Today was not going to change that and ruin it.
Pressing my lips together, I shook it out—shook my shoulders and arms, wiggled all the way down to my butt planted in the grass. It probably looked weird, but I pictured all the fears and worries being rattled right off me, and it worked. I opened my eyes again, and the unwanted knot of emotion was gone.
Once I got myself in check, I lifted the camera again, moving away from the playground and over the walkway. I started to get a long shot of the lake, but my attention was snagged. My finger slipped over the zoom button before I even knew what I was doing.
Blue Mohawk?
What the hell?
It was the guy from the club. It was so him standing on the edge of the pathway, hands shoved into his pockets. In the daylight, his blue hair was even more striking against his pale skin. I bet he was a redhead. He wore a black shirt with some kind of symbol on it. Two snakes, mouth to end.
What was his name? Kent. Yeah, that was his name.
He turned toward the hill I sat on. Sucking in a sharp breath, I jerked the camera away from my face. There was no way he could see me. He was human, but God, it was almost like he’d looked right at me.
I thought about the feeling I’d had in the school parking lot.
Well, now I was being paranoid, because those two things had nothing to do with each other.
I shook my head and then scanned the pathway down below. No Kent. Frowning, I craned my neck to see if he’d gone around the bend. It shouldn’t be hard to see him. He kind of stuck out. And what was he doing here? Yeah, this was a public park, but what was the likelihood of seeing him at the Lake, especially when I’d never seen him here before, and right after—
“Fancy seeing you here.”
Instantly I recognized the deep voice coming from behind me. My stomach dropped at the same time my heart rate kicked up. Twisting, I looked up . . . and up some more. I nearly dropped my poor camera.
Luc.
He crouched so we were face-to-face. Somehow I’d forgotten how striking his eyes were up close. A purple so intense, it reminded me of the most vibrant of wolfsbane. “Surprised to see me?”
“Yeah,” I said, checking out his wrist. Still no Disabler. Just that leather cuff and weird stone. “A little.”
One dark brow lifted. “You probably thought you were never going to see me again. You probably even hoped for that.”
I laid my camera down in the grass, figuring it was better to have my hands free at this point. “Honestly? After my mom pointed a shotgun at you, I figured I would never see you again.”
He laughed, but it made every muscle in my body tense. “Yeah, usually that would deter people, but then again, I’m not like most people.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
Letting his hands hang between his knees, he nodded slowly. “True.”
Mouth dry, I glanced around, but I didn’t see Kent anywhere. Actually, it seemed like no one was near us. Luc gave off this vibe, like an invisible barrier that kept people back from him. “I didn’t tell anyone about what I saw Saturday.”
“I know.” His gaze flickered over my face. “I make you so incredibly nervous, don’t I?”
Warmth crept into my cheeks. It was true. He made me nervous on nearly every level, even ones I didn’t quite understand, and the fact that he noticed this ticked me off to no end.
I rose to my knees, meeting his stare head-on. “Yeah, you make me nervous.”
“Because you think I’m a Luxen?”
“It has nothing to do with what you are.” I pressed my palms into my thighs. “You make me nervous because the last time I saw you, you unlocked the doors and entered my house without permission, and before that, you tried to kidnap me.”
“We’re still disagreeing on what kidnapping involves, I see.”
“You tried to kidnap me, Luc.”
“Hmm,” he murmured. “That means I like you.”
I arched a brow. “Okay. That’s messed up on about a thousand different levels.”
“Probably. I don’t people well.”
“Gee, really,” I replied dryly.
He seemed to consider that for a moment and then said, “I have good reasons for why I thought it would be better for you to stay there.”
Both of my brows lifted now. “And I’m sure most serial killers have ‘good reasons’ for cutting up their victims and eating them too.”
Luc’s lips twitched. “That’s a bit extreme.”
“You’re a bit extreme.”
His gaze lowered, his thick lashes shielding his eyes. “You’re a bright girl. I know that. You saw more than one Luxen without a Disabler. You also saw frightened Luxen hidden. You were there when we were raided. I know you can put two and two together.” Those lashes lifted. “Obviously that knowledge you possess is dangerous, and it requires me to be a bit extreme to protect what I’m doing.”
As much as I hated to admit it even to myself, I understood. Reluctantly. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Besides . . . hiding them?”
He gave a little shake of his head. “You’re not ready for that.” A sigh shuddered through him. “I’m not ready for that.”
That didn’t make much sense. “Why?”
“Because I can’t trust you. Not like that.”
I was kind of offended by that. “We’re talking about trust? When you entered my locked home and proceeded to melt a shotgun barrel with your bare hands?”