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  "No. I just got here two days ago." And I wasn't particularly interested in running into any of them.

  "Listen, why don't you come to Old Mac's tonight around eight? We're havin' a birthday celebration for Rosco. You remember him?"

  I remembered Rosco. He was a burned-out junkie who dropped out right before graduation. "Um, yeah, sort of. But you know, I'm tired and—"

  She shook her head. "Don't you say no yet. Think about it. Okay? I know some of the girls would love to live—what's it called? Vicariously?—vicariously through you. You're the only one that got out, you know."

  "All right," I said, desperate for escape. "Thanks for the invite."

  When I got back home, there was a shiny black Mercedes parked in the driveway. I parked behind it and off to the side, my heart thumping. Was it Dax? I didn't remember seeing this particular car in his garage, but he had so many...

  What if it was Marion? Did demons usually claim their victims using expensive cars?

  But then the door was open and Dax stepped out, his eyes immediately finding mine through the windshield. His face relaxed into a smile that stole the air right out of my lungs. I got out of my car, my heart doing a funny dance in my chest, but not from fear this time. I returned his perfect smile with a human version of my own.

  "Hi," I said shyly, forgetting everything bad under the weight of his copper gaze. I stood with my hands clamped around the plastic handles of the bag. "Did the talk with Oscar go okay? What are you doing here?" A breeze swirled around us, pushing his wood smoke and spice scent into my nose. I inhaled deeply without thinking about it. "Not that I'm complaining."

  His grin grew wider. "I haven’t returned home yet. I waited after you went inside and I saw you come back out. I wanted to make sure you got to the shop and back safely, so I followed you." His smile slipped a little. "I hope that's all right."

  I blinked. "Um, yeah, that's fine. But I didn't see you following me."

  He laughed. "I blend in well."

  A black, shiny Mercedes blending in in Eden? I couldn't imagine it. But he’d accomplished it somehow. "Why didn't you just run behind me like before?"

  He seemed to be studying my face carefully as he answered. "I don't like to do that when I might be seen. The main road doesn't have much cover like the woods do."

  I nodded, trying to absorb this new information. There was so much I had to learn about him; it was like getting used to a new culture. It didn't bother me in the slightest. I felt like I couldn't wait to absorb more, as much as possible, as quickly as possible. "Would you like to come inside?"

  He nodded, again. "Yes, please. If you don't object."

  He was afraid I might be scared of him inside my house, alone with me. As if. My thoughts were not in the least concerned with my safety. They seemed to be centered more along the idea of me and him, alone, in private...I cleared my throat, my cheeks burning at my own wantonness. "I don't mind at all."

  If Dax noticed, he didn't say anything. He merely followed meekly behind me as I stepped up on the porch and unlocked the front door.

  Inside, I set my bag down on the coffee table. "Can I get you anything? Water?" I bit my lip. "Do you...um, I mean—"

  "Do I drink and eat things humans do?" He smiled his devastating smile, seemingly not the least offended by my question.

  I nodded.

  "Yes. I don't eat often, but when I do, I eat much more than most men." He shrugged easily, broad shoulders rising and falling in his snug black t-shirt. "But no, thank you. I don't need anything at the moment."

  We stood there, studying each other. I took in his lips hungrily, full and firm. They were redder than the average person's, as if he had more blood under his skin than we did.

  His nose was perfectly aquiline, and it looked made from golden marble rather than skin—there were no visible imperfections, no moles or bumps so common on human noses. His entire face was that way, crafted as if on purpose to be devastatingly, painfully perfect.

  A strand of hair fell on his forehead, dark and shiny, and I had the desperate urge to touch it. I balled my hands into fists and let myself look into his eyes. I'd been saving them—my favorites—for last.

  His eyes were done roving my face now and held mine steadily, the copper alight. Heat was starting to waft off of him in my mom's tiny living room, and it was as if I'd thrown three burning logs into the fireplace.

  Sweat began to pool at the base of my neck and between my breasts, but it wasn't just the physical heat. That electricity was back, crackling with force between us. His scent filled the room, the house, the world.

  I stepped closer tentatively, but Dax stood his ground. His jaw was clenched tight, but his posture—as on that first day—contradicted itself. He leaned in toward me, but the tendons in his forearms stood out, his triceps bulged with the effort of holding himself back.

  No such compunction tore at me. I slunk closer to him and then closer still, my head swimming with his spicy, seductive smell, my eyes filled with nothing but copper. I stopped when I was only a few centimeters away, my eyes level with his chest, the heat from his body utterly soaking through my clothes and skin. I tipped my head back so I could drink him in.

  His eyes were wide, and I knew he felt what I was feeling, but I couldn't imagine that he experienced the same intensity. It seemed like it would be too crazy, too lucky, if he did. I knew my feelings for him defied any laws of logic or propriety. Humans weren't meant to fall in love like this with anyone else, not so quickly, and not quite so deeply or fully. But I had. I couldn't imagine a world without him, and it didn't matter if a world with him in it didn't make sense. Who needed sense? It was overrated.

  "I..." He took a deep breath, as if he was filling his lungs with me. "I need to speak with you about something," he finished finally, his sandpaper voice even rougher, even huskier than usual.

  I couldn't take my eyes off his. "Okay," I breathed.

  His jaw clenched even tighter. I sensed he wanted to step back, to put some distance between us, to be the one thinking clearly. But I rejoiced when I saw he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. "Cara," he whispered.

  I lifted myself on my tiptoes. His breath was delicious, sweet and smoky; I wanted to breathe as much of it in as I could. Carefully, slowly, I moved my head forward so our lips were only a fraction of an inch apart. All Dax had to do was incline his head toward mine.

  I waited there in that agonizing space, with my heart beating between us, frantically, achingly. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it so badly that I could taste his lips on mine already. His heat seeped through me, engulfing me. But then I blinked and he'd moved back about five paces.

  I let myself fall back down onto the flats of my feet. My cheeks burned with humiliation. Didn't he want to kiss me at all? How could he resist? And then I knew, clearly, that of course he didn't feel love the same way I did.

  To him, the emotional component of our attraction was new enough that he thought he loved me. He'd said as much at his house. While I believed that he believed that, I didn't think his feelings for me were quite as strong as mine were for him. It was the only explanation for how he'd just separated himself from me so easily. There was no way I could've torn myself from him. No. Way.

  I swallowed the ridiculous lump in my throat before I bustled off to the dining room with my bag of magazines. "Just getting...some, um, water."

  I slammed the bag down on the table and went into the kitchen. Turning on the faucet, I closed my eyes while my glass filled. I took deep breaths and attempted to collect myself.

  When I returned to the living room, I was marginally calmer. Dax was standing in the exact same spot he'd been when I left, his face a mask of concern. I smiled brightly at him. "So. What did you want to tell me?"

  "Are you all right?" he asked finally, his voice soft and quiet.

  His caring tone made me want to cry again, so I gulped my water and refused to meet his eye. Finally I said, "Yep. So, tell me. What did you want to
tell me?" I sat in my dad's old recliner and kept both hands on my glass so he couldn't see how much they were trembling.

  He kept looking at me, but finally, he sighed. "I wanted to reiterate that you shouldn't be alone tonight. While Marion's here in Eden, I mean. I'm not sure what his plans are for before and after he speaks with me, and I'm not sure exactly when he'll breach the town line, so..."

  I nodded. "Okay."

  "I thought maybe you could come up to the house. You can stay in one of the back rooms while we meet with him."

  Normally I'd be thrilled at the prospect of being in his house, but now it seemed like he was only doing it out of pity. I didn't want to feel like a fool again, fantasizing about what we might do alone when he was clearly not as into it as I was.

  "No," I said. "I have plans. I think I'll keep them."

  Concern and curiosity fought it out on his beautiful face. Finally he asked, "And...may I ask what these plans are? For your safety, of course."

  My safety. He only didn't want me to get hurt because he'd feel guilty? Is that what he was saying? "My old friend from high school, Felicity, invited me to Old Mac's. It's a mutual friend’s birthday," I muttered. There was that stupid lump again.

  Dax was silent a long minute. Finally, he nodded. "Very well." He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a white cell phone. "Would you mind terribly carrying this? It's yours now. I forgot to give it to you before."

  Was that the newest iPhone? "You don't have to buy me a cell phone," I said. "I can buy one...after I get my first paycheck."

  He bit his lip and stared at me. "Please?"

  Something about the way he said it melted me. "Sure."

  He was near me, pressing the phone into my hand before I could say anything else. "Thank you."

  The boiling of my blood had dulled from when Dax had stepped away from me, but now, just the grazing of his fingers against mine set it into high-speed boil mode again. I gasped and a shiver ran through me.

  Dax moved back in a blur, his brow furrowed. Finally, he said, "I should be going. Oscar and I need to prepare for Marion. But Shuck will be out in the woods, watching over you. All right?"

  I nodded. He let himself out and I held back the tears.

  After a tasteless dinner of chicken and vegetables, I sat in front of the TV, watching a show about beavers so I wouldn't have to listen to the silence. How did my mom do this, day after day, year after year? No wonder she worked so much. Sometimes you had to run from the silence you’d created.

  I thought about Dax, up on the hill, and Shuck, out there in the woods, guarding me. This whole world was troubling, hard to understand, and gripping in the strangest, most enchanting way.

  I tried not to think about how Dax had refused to kiss me—had resisted, somehow, in spite of the almost tactile sexual tension in the air. Sighing, I got up to get dressed. If I sat here, I'd just stew in all that hadn't happened between us.

  Heading in to my bedroom, I pulled out the least crumpled of my clothes from the closet. I'd hung up everything earlier, in an attempt to fill up the time. After some deliberation, I chose a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a sparkly red top with cut-outs on the sleeves. As I dabbed on some lip-gloss, nerves niggled deep in my belly. Had Marion arrived? How angry was he, exactly, about his hound? I checked my new cell phone, but there weren’t any messages.

  Outside, night had wrapped Eden up in its black blanket. Stars shone down through tattered clouds, and a light wind made the hair on my arms stand up. But once I donned my jacket, it was comfortable enough for me to walk to the bar. If I was going to be drinking, I'd rather not risk taking the car. Besides, Shuck was watching over me.

  I looked toward the woods. It was absolutely silent, and I knew it had to do with Shuck’s presence. I remembered that first night back in Eden, when I'd felt watched. It had been Marion's hound, of course, but I hadn't known that then.

  The animals and birds in the woods knew what I hadn't, though, that Shuck didn't belong, wasn't one of them. I could take a shortcut through the woods or just go the long way around and stick to paved roads. He could still watch me from the woods. Remembering just how big Shuck was, I decided to just take the long way.

  Twenty minutes later I was at Old Mac's. The outside of the place hadn't changed since I'd left four years ago. I'd never been inside before, though, since I hadn't been old enough. More to the point, there was no one in Eden with whom I'd been close enough to go to a bar.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked in.

  The din inside was relentless. Country music blared over the speakers, punctuated by raucous laughter and the clacking of pool balls and cues. My lungs filled up with the suffocating cigarette smoke that hung in the air; my nose crinkled automatically from the stench of thick perfume and acrid sweat.

  I was looking around for Felicity when I heard, "There she is—Cara!"

  Felicity was grinning at me from a table in the back of the bar. By the way she was waving extra-enthusiastically, I guessed she'd already had a few. I walked to the table crammed full of people, feeling a little anxious.

  The group was dotted with some familiar faces, but no one I recognized right off the bat. The girls were all in heavy makeup and the guys had facial hair they hadn't had in high school. Besides, I was too preoccupied wondering what they'd think and say—after all, I hadn't made my distaste for Eden any kind of a secret. From middle school on, I'd pulled into my shell, eschewing any connection with Eden, including friends I'd made in elementary school and before.

  Now, I waited for the inevitable barrage of, "Oh, so I guess you're not too good for Eden, huh?"

  But it didn't come.

  Instead, one of the guys, the only clean-shaved one of the group, smiled at me. His dishwater-blond hair was cropped close to his pink skull.

  "Hey," he said. "Is Eden just as lame as y'all remembered it or worse?"

  Everyone chuckled and the anxiety I'd been feeling loosened a bit. "It's not so bad," I lied, taking a seat next to Felicity. I looked around the table. "You all look different."

  They laughed louder then, the guys shoving each other and the girls squealing at their barbaric behavior.

  "Doesn't she look so glamorous?" Felicity wrapped her arm around my shoulder like we were old friends. "When she walked into the store this mornin' I about had a heart attack!"

  "She looks thin," a girl across the table said. She was slim, with silvery blonde hair and small blue eyes that reminded me of an alligator or a lizard. "Too thin," she muttered under her breath.

  It took me a minute, but then I recognized her—Sheila Lawton, the prom queen and daughter of the mayor of Eden. I always thought I'd passed under her radar in high school since I wasn't rich or pretty enough for her circle of friends. Her open hostility confused me.

  Before I could reply, though, the clean-shaved guy piped in. "We'll just have to feed her then!" he said. "Some good southern fried chicken oughta do the trick."

  I laughed, grateful. He had kind blue eyes, and his smile came easily. He leaned forward as if he was telling me a secret, strong forearms sticking out of his plaid shirt. "Do you remember me?"

  I stared at him, my wheels spinning. Why was I so bad at placing faces? But he laughed. "Look at her face, y'all. She's tryin' so hard." He grinned at me. "Don't worry, I wasn't in your grade. Graduated the year before you. James Spellman."

  "Right." I actually did remember him now. He'd been a football player until his last year of high school when he'd had an injury. It had been a momentous, sad occasion in Eden, as I recalled. "You look different now." Back in high school he wore his hair long and unwashed, and he'd also been about six inches shorter. Now he looked like he was probably over six feet—but not quite as tall as Dax.

  "Yeah, well, growing up will do that to ya." He grinned again, and I found myself smiling back. "I work at the fire department now and part-time for the National Guard. Got to be responsible." He put on a solemn face and then took a big slug of beer. I knew he w
as joking, but something about the way he said it made me think he missed the more laid back times of high school.

  "Where's Rosco?" I asked, looking around. "It's his birthday, right?"

  Sheila rolled her eyes across from me. Felicity sighed, and everyone looked shifty and uncomfortable.

  "Rosco was supposed to be here," Felicity explained. "But you can't really hang your hat on his word, if you know what I mean."

  I looked at her blankly.

  "Drugs," she mouthed at me.

  Oh. So things really hadn't changed that much.

  "No reason we shouldn't have fun," James said, standing up. He held one hand out, dramatically, like we were in a theater production of Romeo and Juliet. "Dance with me, miss?"

  I smiled and put my hand in his. "Sure."

  Dancing with James came easily, as if I'd been best friends with him before I'd left. We laughed and joked about some of the people we'd known in high school, which teachers had retired, which had stayed and gotten even crazier.

  "Do you remember Mr. Whittaker?" he asked as we moved slowly to some mournful ballad. "Dark red hair, big mustache?"

  "Of course." He was one of the better teachers in Eden. "Why?"

  "He died. Lung cancer."

  "Oh no." He'd been only a little older than my mom, with a wife and kids of his own. "That's so sad. Especially for his family."

  James got quiet, looking over my head pensively. "I'm sorry," he said softly after a moment, meeting my eye again. "About your daddy. I don't think I ever said that before."

  I stiffened in his arms, trying hard not to show how much his words hurt. It still ate at me when people brought my dad up. I could see what they were thinking: It's her fault. How does she live with herself?

  I forced a smile. "Thanks."

  The song ended and I moved away. "I'm going outside for a...smoke break." I didn't smoke, but James didn't know that.

  I pushed past the crowd of dancers waiting for the next song to start up and went outside into the cool night air. Sweat began to evaporate off me, and I shivered, wishing I'd brought my jacket.