to the bed behind him. There was an open suitcase on top of it, clothes piled neatly inside. On the rug was a pair of dirt-splattered boots. She glanced at his hands. There were calluses on the thumbs. He was wearing well-fitting, worn jeans and a black-and-grey checked and rumpled shirt over a white T-shirt. He could pass for a farmhand, but then again so could most boys in this town.
'Sorry to have scared you,' Lucas said. And there was that smile again. Disarming her, making her pulse speed up and her head fog over like a summer day in the bay.
'It's OK,' Evie said, slowly dropping the bat. She edged backwards towards the door, keeping her eyes on the boy in front of her in case he made a move. She didn't know if he was telling the truth but she couldn't take the risk that he wasn't and smash him over the head in case he was just the lodger. Her mother wouldn't be pleased.
Lucas followed her to the door, watching her as she walked backwards down the corridor. Then he turned back into the room. She took a deep breath and ran the last few steps to her room, slamming the door behind her and shoving a chair in front of it.
10
Lucas stood outside Evie's door, listening to her hefting what sounded like a chair in front of it as a barricade, and smiled despite himself. A chair? He shook his head. It would be so ridiculously easy to finish her right now. She had no idea.
But it would have been just as easy the other night, in the parking lot, to finish her. Shula had been just about to. But for some reason he'd acted before he could think and had pushed her out of the way. And he still wasn't sure why he had, except at the time he'd just known that he hadn't wanted Evie to die. At least, not yet.
And before he knew it, he was making up a plan to come back to Riverview on his own. And that's why, he told himself, that's why he'd pushed Evie out the way and saved her. It was because Evie's death wasn't enough. It was because, as he'd told Tristan later that night, he wanted to find a way of bringing the Hunters to their knees, just as they'd done to the Brotherhood.
He thought he heard Evie pausing, her breath sounding shallow, and he imagined her inky blue eyes fixed on the back of the door, wondering what or who stood on the other side, wondering if she was paranoid or going mad. Maybe she'd even picked up the baseball bat again.
He knew his shadow wouldn't give him away, and she wouldn't be able to hear him - he was far too quiet for that, and her senses weren't that developed - they couldn't be or she wouldn't have set foot in the house in the first place. Even the dog had been more wary than she had been, refusing to come near him until he knelt down and murmured to him that he wasn't going to hurt him. It was the same with horses - they picked up on him immediately, sensing he wasn't quite human, but once he got close, and reassured them, they stopped stamping their feet and snorting hot air, and became putty in his hands. He frowned at the door, hoping he could do the same to Evie, get that close to her, convince her to trust him, open up to him. He sensed, however, that somehow it was going to take more than a few tickles behind the ears and a quiet whisper to get her to trust him.
He'd been in her room, searching for any information she might have lying around about the Hunters, when he'd heard her pulling up in the driveway in that old Ford pickup of hers. The engine was so grizzled that a deaf person two counties away could hear her coming. From the window he'd watched her as she sat in the car with her head in her hands. When she'd finally looked up there had been a fierce frown on her face. It had made him curious. It was only when she finally flung open the car door and raced up the porch steps that he'd understood she was afraid.
After she'd slammed the front door behind her, he'd wondered how long it would take her to pick up on his presence. When it had seemed like she never would he'd chucked her a clue,
'Sorry to have scared you,' Lucas said. And there was that smile again. Disarming her, making her pulse speed up and her head fog over like a summer day in the bay.
'It's OK,' Evie said, slowly dropping the bat. She edged backwards towards the door, keeping her eyes on the boy in front of her in case he made a move. She didn't know if he was telling the truth but she couldn't take the risk that he wasn't and smash him over the head in case he was just the lodger. Her mother wouldn't be pleased.
Lucas followed her to the door, watching her as she walked backwards down the corridor. Then he turned back into the room. She took a deep breath and ran the last few steps to her room, slamming the door behind her and shoving a chair in front of it.
10
Lucas stood outside Evie's door, listening to her hefting what sounded like a chair in front of it as a barricade, and smiled despite himself. A chair? He shook his head. It would be so ridiculously easy to finish her right now. She had no idea.
But it would have been just as easy the other night, in the parking lot, to finish her. Shula had been just about to. But for some reason he'd acted before he could think and had pushed her out of the way. And he still wasn't sure why he had, except at the time he'd just known that he hadn't wanted Evie to die. At least, not yet.
And before he knew it, he was making up a plan to come back to Riverview on his own. And that's why, he told himself, that's why he'd pushed Evie out the way and saved her. It was because Evie's death wasn't enough. It was because, as he'd told Tristan later that night, he wanted to find a way of bringing the Hunters to their knees, just as they'd done to the Brotherhood.
He thought he heard Evie pausing, her breath sounding shallow, and he imagined her inky blue eyes fixed on the back of the door, wondering what or who stood on the other side, wondering if she was paranoid or going mad. Maybe she'd even picked up the baseball bat again.
He knew his shadow wouldn't give him away, and she wouldn't be able to hear him - he was far too quiet for that, and her senses weren't that developed - they couldn't be or she wouldn't have set foot in the house in the first place. Even the dog had been more wary than she had been, refusing to come near him until he knelt down and murmured to him that he wasn't going to hurt him. It was the same with horses - they picked up on him immediately, sensing he wasn't quite human, but once he got close, and reassured them, they stopped stamping their feet and snorting hot air, and became putty in his hands. He frowned at the door, hoping he could do the same to Evie, get that close to her, convince her to trust him, open up to him. He sensed, however, that somehow it was going to take more than a few tickles behind the ears and a quiet whisper to get her to trust him.
He'd been in her room, searching for any information she might have lying around about the Hunters, when he'd heard her pulling up in the driveway in that old Ford pickup of hers. The engine was so grizzled that a deaf person two counties away could hear her coming. From the window he'd watched her as she sat in the car with her head in her hands. When she'd finally looked up there had been a fierce frown on her face. It had made him curious. It was only when she finally flung open the car door and raced up the porch steps that he'd understood she was afraid.
After she'd slammed the front door behind her, he'd wondered how long it would take her to pick up on his presence. When it had seemed like she never would he'd chucked her a clue,
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