Luke stood with me in his arms, turned, dumped me—gently—in the chair, and strode away.  I grinned at the group.

“That’s usually how he reacts if I do talk about them.”

“So you haven’t Claimed him yet?” Gabby asked.

I snorted.  “Nope.  He won’t let me.  He’s pretty quick to protect his precious neck.  I got smacked in the face, like, at least fifty times on the trip here.”  I polished off the sandwich with a sigh.  That had to have been the best sandwich ever.

“That makes no sense,” Gabby stated.  “I was so sure.”  She looked in the direction that Luke had walked off and moved to stand.  The content, happy feeling left my stomach.

Clay wrapped his hand around her wrist to stop her.  I took a slow breath and tried to let go of the anxiety filling me.  She was my sister.  I would need to depend on her.  So why was I so jealous of her and her relationship with Luke?

She turned and met Clay’s eyes.  “It’s okay.  I’ll be right back.  I have to know,” she said quietly.

Michelle shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  See, the restless part of me yelled. Even she sensed that Gabby shouldn’t want to go chasing after Luke.  I shushed myself.

Clay sighed and let go, but surprised me by following her.  She didn’t seem to mind.

“Do you want something to drink?” Michelle asked quietly, pulling my attention back to the remaining two.

“Sure.”  I stood to go with her since I didn’t want to sit and dwell on what had just happened.

“The Elders don’t have much to go off of,” she said quietly.

I smiled at her evasive wording.  “No.  They don’t,” I slowly agreed.  “Maybe Elder Joshua’s arrival will help?”  I still wasn’t sure what to do about him or how to expose him so he wouldn’t tell the other Urbat that I’d figured them out.

She glanced at me with a slight frown, and I could see her making the connections.  “I hope so,” she murmured.

In the kitchen, I had to pause for a moment to gape in amazement.  The heavenly smells that dotted the commons intensified as I stepped through the door.  Several ovens lined the walls.  The counters and stovetops were spread with numerous ingredients and dishes in various stages of preparation.  So much food...

An older woman with long blonde hair came over to us.  She smiled at Michelle.  “Another sandwich?”

Michelle looked at me.

I watched another woman pull a turkey from the oven.  The crisp brown skin called to me.  “Turkey,” I mumbled in a zombie-like fashion.

The woman laughed and turned to watch the other woman baste the bird.  “It’ll be another three hours until they’re done.  Eighteen birds in all,” she confided.

Tearing my eyes from the food, I really looked at her for the first time.  “Charlene,” I whispered recalling the memory of the girl at school.  She didn’t look much different.  Sure, a little older, but the face was unmistakable.

“Do I know you?”

“Charlene, this is Bethi,” Michelle introduced us.

Charlene held out her hand.  I looked down at it briefly before meeting her eyes again.  “I think it’s better if we don’t,” I said softly.  She dropped her hand and eyed me curiously.  “You have a lot of food to cook, and I don’t want to be responsible for knocking you on your butt.  But I’m glad to have met you.” Charlene’s eyes flared in surprise.

“Same here,” she said.  “I’ll get you something more to snack on.  You look like you need it.”

“You know how it is when you’re on the run.  You’re so busy moving your feet you forget to shove something in your mouth.”

She nodded again—the look in her eyes told me she really did understand what it felt like to be on the run—before turning away to get a plate.  She loaded it with two pieces of pumpkin pie covered with a mountain of whipped cream, a large scoop of fluffy stuff hiding mini marshmallows, and an enormous square of bread pudding with cranberries.

“This should help,” she said handing over the heavy plate.

Saliva pooled in my mouth.  I could only nod as I turned away.  My stomach pulled a little as I carried the plate.

“Can I carry that for you?” Emmitt offered.  I looked up.  Apprehension spread through me.  His eyes saw too much.

“Sure,” I said with false ease as I surrendered the plate.

The others had returned and sat in our recently abandoned seats.  Seeing Luke sitting there calmly, his eyes meeting Gabby’s in some sort of silent communication hurt me even as those stupid crazy butterflies took flight in my stomach.

“If you’re feeling tired,” Emmitt said softly, “you could take this back to your room.”

I stopped walking and turned to him, meeting his eyes.  “I’m not really tired as much as I just want to be alone for a while,” I said honestly, knowing that Luke could hear me.  “So going back to my room sounds great.  Would you come get me when something interesting happens?”

He nodded and turned to lead the way back.

*    *    *    *

After Emmitt and Michelle left me in my apartment, I sat on the couch and shoved in a forkful of pumpkin pie.  Still warm.  I sighed and took another bite. I missed my mom.  She made great pumpkin pie when we got together with her side of the family.  Cousins, aunts, uncles, my grandpa.  I wondered if she was with them.  I hoped she was.  So many times I lost the ones I loved.  In a way, it helped me now.  I still hurt for my mother in this life but also had a numb sort of protection from the hurt.  Like scar tissue.

“So you want to be alone, huh?” Luke said as he let himself in and softly closed the door.  “A bit rude, don’t you think?”

“No more rude than you running off in a drama queen fit so ‘Little One’ follows you,” I said.

He walked around the couch so he stood before me. His expression was slightly amused.  “You’re jealous.”

I wanted to throw my fork at him.  “No kidding.  Look, either want me or don’t, but stop playing the middle ground.  I’m tired of waiting for you.”  That wiped the humor from his expression.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I had to suffer through a dream where I was drowned as a baby.  If you would have let me Claim you, I'd have more control over the dreams.  If you would have stayed by me, I wouldn’t have dreamed that at all.”  Well, maybe not, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Bethi, I’m sorry about leaving you.  The Elders had questions and wouldn’t be ignored.”

“I won’t be ignored, Luke.  Decide.”

“There’s no decision.  We are meant to be together.  We just need to be patient for a little while longer.  When you turn eighteen—”

“Just stop,” I yelled.  “Do you hear yourself?  Do you even know what you’re saying?”  I lowered my voice in an imitation of him. “‘Bethi, I want to be with you, but first I need you to suffer for three more months.  Being killed another ninety times—minimum—isn’t asking too much so I can feel virtuous when I allow you to Claim me.”

He bent down in front of me and plucked the plate from my hands.  “Bethi, I swear.  I will not leave you again.  I won’t allow you to suffer another death,” he said softly brushing the loose hair back from my face.

“I already suffered one too many,” I said, standing.  “If you add up all the years I’ve lived across all my lives, I celebrated my one thousandth birthday a couple decades ago.  You’re not cradle robbing, you’re grave robbing.  Think on that.”

He sighed and stood, too.  We stayed like that for a moment.  Me glaring and him skimming my face with an increasingly tender look.  He stepped close and brushed his finger over my face, tracing my right eyebrow and then feathering into my hair.

“You have the most amazing eyes,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that before,” I answered struggling against the hope building in my chest.

He leaned in and my heart started to hammer.  The last time he kissed me he said it wouldn’t happen again.  Did it mean he’d actually heard me?  Had he changed his mind?  My breath caught as I waited for him to close the last inch between us.