I walk around him with a scoff. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Nor am I interested in being assaulted in the woods. I’m going home.” I pause at the driver’s side door and look over the roof of the car at him. “I’ll have you know I have a black belt in taekwondo, so don’t try anything stupid.”
“No, you don’t.” He laughs.
He’s right, of course, but I don’t admit it. I climb into the car and take my spot behind the steering wheel. I realize I left the doors unlocked a moment later when Luca helps himself to a seat beside me.
He leans across the console to put those startling blue eyes in front of me. “You have questions.”
I spare him a glance but admit nothing.
“I have answers,” he adds, dangling the bait he knows I won’t be able to resist.
I clench my jaw and stare out the windshield. Anything to avoid looking at him. The nerve endings in my skin are frustratingly aware of how close he is to touching me. They rise to the occasion as if straining for the contact. They’re silly, and I’m not about to let a bunch of tingly nerves dictate what I do, or don’t do, around this guy.
“Things are happening to you, and you don’t know how to explain them,” Luca continues. “I do. I can explain it all, Savvy.”
I narrow my eyes at his casual use of that nickname, but I don’t correct him.
“You were just followed through the woods by a couple of wolves,” he reminds me. “That’s not normal, and you know it.”
“You expect me to believe you have an explanation for that?” I roll my eyes.
“I do have an explanation. For everything.”
He doesn’t admit to anything—not yet—but I suspect he is referring to the attacks. My curiosity demands to hear what he has to say, and he knows it.
Smug victory spreads across his face. “Do you know where Silver Lake is?” he asks.
I shrug. “I have a general idea.”
“Drive. I’ll get us there,” he tells me. “Then we’ll talk.”
“Oh, no.” I sit back in my seat with a snort. “I’m not stupid. You live there. I will not be the first kidnap victim in history to drive herself into . . .” My wary gaze swings to him.
His lips curl into a sly grin. “What? The wolf’s lair?”
I swallow hard.
“Sav . . .” He bows his head, breaking eye contact. “I’m not going to hurt you. If that was my intention, you would know it by now.” When he looks up again, his eyes are soft and pleading—a sharp contrast to what I have come to expect from him. “I’m hoping that there’s a tiny voice in your head, an instinct, telling you that you can trust me.”
I am surprised by what I hear when I search within and listen to the voice he knows is there. Despite all of my suspicions, and evidence to the contrary, I realize that I do trust him. Deep, deep down I know he is not to blame for the strange things that have happened to me. He may have the answers I seek, but he’s not responsible.
Instead of admitting any of that, I ask, “What’s so special about Silver Lake?”
“I want you to see something.” He pauses and waits for my uncertain gaze to meet his. “Trust your instincts, Sav. They won’t lead you wrong.”
I place one hand on the steering wheel and shove the key into the ignition with the other. Then a troubling thought occurs to me, and I look at him suspiciously. “I can leave whenever I want?”
He gives me the same smile I give the young campers when they ask me something absurd. “Of course.”
“No argument,” I insist. “I say I want to leave, you let me leave.”
He holds his hands up as if in surrender. “I won’t argue.”
“Fine.” I start the engine with a shake of my head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Luca eases back into his seat. “You won’t regret it, Sav.”
I glance at him, but he’s not looking at me. He’s staring out his window, what little I can see of his face void of emotion, and I wonder if he doubts his own words.
I could boot him from the car now, and bury my head in the sand. I could choose to never see or speak to him again, and go on with my normal—albeit boring—life as it is.
I could do the smart thing. The safe thing.
I drive.
Chapter 8
The ten-minute trip to Silver Lake is a quiet one. Other than the occasional “turn left here” and “go straight here” Luca tells me nothing. He doesn’t elaborate on why he insists on taking me to Silver Lake, or what he plans to show me.
I don’t ask either. My mind is too preoccupied with one unpleasant thought after another.
It’s a trick. It’s a joke. I’m an idiot for trusting him.
I should stop. I should pull over. I should kick his cute butt out of my car.
I don’t do any of the things I should do.
I follow Luca’s directions. He tells me to turn onto the dirt road blocked by a gate that I always suspected kept unwanted visitors off the Caspan’s land. The entrance is bordered by wire fencing that looks like it carries enough electricity to zap small dinosaurs back to the Mesozoic. I briefly wonder if its purpose is to keep people out, or to keep something in.
“Do you house a baby T-Rex in there?” I force a laugh to chase away the unease.
It doesn’t go far. Not even when Luca rolls his head my way and flashes a dimply smile.
“My parents are big on privacy,” he tells me.
“No kidding.” I brake to a stop alongside a keypad and drum my fingers on the steering wheel while Luca rattles off a series of numbers.
I stare through the gate, unmoving. The road ahead is surrounded by trees and disappears around a curve. I have no way of knowing how far he is taking me. I have no idea where he is taking me. Not really.
I have never seen Silver Lake. It could be a local myth. An urban legend. Knowing my recent luck, it will end up being code for ‘mass grave for stupid girls who trusted the wrong guy.’
“Sav?” Luca’s voice is soft in my ear, and a wave of intimate familiarity washes over me. For reasons I can’t explain, hearing my name on his lips fills me with nostalgia. Like I’ve heard it before—many, many times before—and I’ve longed to hear it again.
That’s crazy.
I punch in the numbers and stare straight ahead as the gate swings open. It holds there, beckoning me forward with the promise of safety. Or imprisonment.
I glance at Luca, and he gives me a thin smile. My pulse races and a blanket of fog fills my head in response. I want to trust him, even if I’m not sure I should. All I have to rely on is instinct—a little voice buried under all the madness telling me it will be okay.
She better not be wrong.
I hit the gas and drive through the gate. I watch in the rearview mirror as it swings shut, sealing me inside.
I am such a sucker. Who knew dreamy eyes, dimples, and a smile could do this to me? I am willingly driving into the unknown with a guy I barely know. I have thrown common sense out the window.
I am no longer the survivor in this movie. I am the gullible girl who falls for the handsome and charming stranger only to discover, too late, that he is a sociopath.
I can only hope Luca isn’t a serial killer, and I don’t end up another lost soul forfeited to the Cascades. And if he is, I’m screwed. It’s too late for me to turn back now.
I drive along the narrow dirt road as it cuts through the thick forest under a canopy of green. One eye watches the odometer. Just in case I need to make a speedy exit out of here, I want to know how far I am from the gate.
We travel exactly one-point-three miles up and down and around hillcrests before the road curves sharply to the right. The forest fades in the rearview mirror as a pink-and-orange sky opens up in front of us. The road clings to the side of the mountain as it begins a gradual descent. In the valley below lies the lake.
I sneak glances over the edge of the cliff as I drive, drawn to the nature spread out before me. Tall trees hug the lak
e like a giant horseshoe, their freshly bloomed leaves creating a broad swatch of green as far as I can see. The water is calm, with a glass-like surface that shines a crisp silver in the fading sunlight. It’s bigger than I imagined, its distant bank a blur where it meets the vast forest.
As the road dips and curves closer to the lake, I spot a large log house nestled against the cliff we just descended. Three stories of dark cedar and oversized windows look surprisingly natural against the rocky backdrop and the spattering of manicured pine trees that surround it. A sweeping deck faces the lake, and a set of wide stairs connects it to a stone pathway that leads to the sandy shore.
I look away from the impressive sight long enough to notice that Luca is watching me intently. I lift one shoulder. “I expected it to be bigger.”
He points toward the house with a grin. “You can park under those trees.”
I follow Luca’s directions and bring the car to a stop under an umbrella of foliage. I leave the engine running long after he gets out and shuts the door behind him. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly as I watch him walk away.
He doesn’t go far—only to the edge of the path. His back is to me as he faces the lake.
I could leave. Right now. Turn around and go back the way I came.
“He wants me to know that,” I murmur to myself. “That’s why he gave me the code to the gate. He wants me to trust him.”
I do. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here with him right now. I also have enough sense to know I need to exercise caution. I reach for my bag, where it fell onto the floorboard when Luca climbed into the seat. A quick pat confirms the can of bear spray is where it’s supposed to be.
I take a breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Before I lose my nerve, I cut the engine and get out of the car. I slip the bag over my shoulder to keep it close. Just in case.
Luca doesn’t look at me when I come to a stand beside him. The pleased crinkle in the corner of his eye could be because I didn’t flee, or because of the amazing view.
I follow his gaze and decide it’s definitely the view.
“Wow,” I breath.
“You like it?”
“It’s . . . impressive.” I nod appreciatively. “The legend doesn’t do it justice.”
Luca gives me a sidelong glance. “Legend?”
“Oh, you know.” I wave a dismissive hand. “Just some locals and regular hunters, who have claimed to see the lake, running their mouths. I’ve heard a few different versions over the years, but none of them described it like this.”
“A hunter would be lucky to get within a mile of here.” Luca points to the bank on the far side of the lake. “There’s a ravine half a mile on the other side that wraps around the northern and western banks. This half is protected by the fence. No one gets in unless they’re invited.”
“You don’t invite a lot of people here, do you?”
“No. Never.”
I mirror his stance, choosing to face the lake rather than him when I ask, “Why me?”
Neither of us move. I scarcely breathe. My chest burns for oxygen and the tips of my fingers begin to tingle after a few moments.
Finally, Luca turns toward me. I can’t bring myself to do the same, but I do suck in a hearty gulp of crisp mountain air in anticipation.
“You’ve been here before,” he tells me.
My face puckers into my infamous “I’m listening to an idiot say stupid things” expression that always elicits a roar of frustration from Jill when I give it to her. Luca isn’t fazed. He keeps going, regardless of how ridiculous he sounds.
“You have been here a lot, actually. It’s been a long time—a few years now—but I hoped seeing the lake again might bring back some memories.”
I wait for him to finish before I state the obvious. “I’ve never been here before.”
“None of this feels familiar to you?” He peers down at me with a frown. “You don’t recognize anything?”
I shake my head fervently to push away the sense of déjà vu that has nagged me since the moment I got out of the car. It doesn’t make any sense. I would remember seeing something this spectacular before. Unless I was too young to remember, but Dad and I moved here when I was six, not long after my mom died. That’s old enough to have memories of a place like this, especially if I visited “a lot” as Luca claimed.
But I can’t shake the feeling that something about this place is familiar.
“How long ago—assuming you are telling me the truth . . . how long has it been since I’ve been here?” I ask hesitantly.
Lucas grimaces as he turns toward the lake. “The end of this summer will be three years.”
“Oh, okay.” I laugh humorlessly. “Thank you for making it easy for me to decide you’re full of—”
He looks at me and I freeze. Not because he intimidates me—okay, maybe a little—but because of what I see when I meet his gaze. It’s brief, but clear. Unfiltered sadness. His eyes crease with defeat for a brief moment before they lower to the ground. Then his head bobs up and down a few times slowly like he’s reluctantly accepting . . . something.
My disbelief? You bet your ass I don’t believe him.
Three years? Why wouldn’t I remember being here only three years ago? I was fifteen. I remember lots of things that happened that year.
Vienna snagged her first real boyfriend. I got a permit and learned to drive. I . . .
Okay, so I don’t remember a ton of examples. But I am certain I never spent a second of that summer, or any summer before that, anywhere near Silver Lake. Déjà vu be damned.
I don’t know what game Luca is playing, but it’s a weird one. As strange as it is, I am curious to know what he is trying to accomplish by lying to me. Plus, he’s got that whole heartbroken and smoldering thing going on right now.
I take the bait.
“Assuming I believe what you’re telling me,” I start slowly, carefully choosing my words. “Why . . . do you think . . . would I not remember something from only three years ago?”
“This isn’t working,” he mutters under his breath, head still tipped toward the ground.
“What isn’t working?” I take a cautious step backward. “What are you trying to do?”
“I wanted you to remember.” He finally looks up. Seconds slowly tick by before he adds, “I wanted that for my own selfish reasons, but maybe it’s better this way. Maybe I don’t need you to remember.”
My stomach hollows. Need you to remember. He has said those exact words to me before. Once was technically in a dream, but he also said it the night of the graduation party. When he tucked me into my bed.
I nearly forgot that part.
I stumble backward, eyes widened on him.
“You remember something, don’t you?” He follows me.
“You were there,” I say. “At the party.”
He nods. Inches closer. “You know I was.”
“No. I mean after . . .”
“After what?” He stops, squares his shoulders, and lifts his chin. “What do you remember?”
“I never really forgot,” I murmur. “It was just . . . unclear, like everything about that night is surrounded by fog. I wasn’t sure if any of it happened or if I imagined it, or dreamt it, but you were there that night. Through all of it.”
He reaches out slowly, giving me more than enough time to evade him if I want to. I don’t. I can’t. Not when his warm fingers wrap around my wrist. He turns it over, and we both stare down at the thin white scar left behind after that night.
“I was there,” he admits. “I was also in the parking lot behind the restaurant.”
“I knew it,” I breathe.
“What?” His eyes hold mine fiercely. “What do you know, Sav?”
I shake my head, unnerved by his sudden ferocity. “That . . . you were there.”
“What else?”
“There is nothing else.” I yank my wrist out of his grasp. “You were there both times.
That’s all I know. I don’t know why. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t understand any of this.”
“What about the wolf, Sav?” His voice softens. “You remember the wolf?”
I swallow. “I saw the same one both times.”
“Yes, you did.” He studies me intently for a moment before he adds, “You’re probably going to want to sit down for this next part.”
Chapter 9
Luca leads me toward the house, up the steps, and onto the deck. One section is covered by a roof, perfect for rainy or too-sunny conditions. Neither forces us to that section of the deck now, so I’m inclined to think it’s the oversized porch swing with its fluffy pillows and adjoining patio furniture that draws Luca there. A warm breeze flows through the open walls, bringing with it the refreshing scent of nature.
I glide back and forth on the swing, eyes closed as I breathe it all in. The strange conversation we started in the driveway is nothing but a distant memory since I’ve thrown myself headfirst into a big pool of denial.
“Comfortable?”
I hear the humor in Luca’s voice, and open one eye to find him watching me from the chaise. Only he’s using it wrong. He is sitting on it sideways, feet on the floor, facing me.
“You’re the one who suggested I sit down,” I remind him. “Just following directions.”
He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I think you already know what I’m about to tell you.”
Both eyes are open when I shake my head. “Definitely not.”
“Deep down, you do,” he insists.
“Nope.”
“A part of you does,” Luca murmurs, almost to himself. His head drops between his shoulders with a sigh. “You just don’t know it yet.”
“Can you stop with the secretive code that only you understand, and just spit it out?”
He looks up, and it’s obvious that whatever he has to tell me isn’t easy for him to say. Seeing the uncertain look on his face causes the butterflies in my stomach to multiply. I want to dunk my head in denial, but the pool is receding too quickly. Luca’s expression grounds me and leaves me with no choice but to brace for what’s coming.
Shifter Crown: Valley of Truth and Denial (The Shifter Crown Series Book 1) Page 7
