He’s suspicious. Of course he is.
Lucas is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. Not even the lustberry can change that.
“He didn’t follow me here,” I say. “If he had, wouldn’t one of your vampires have noticed by now?”
“Hm.” He watches me closely, as if he’s trying to figure out if he believes me. “I think you underestimate my weakness for you, Star Touched.”
“I have a name.”
Irritation burns through my veins, begging to be released, but I breathe steadily and push it down.
I’ve gotten too far to mess this up now.
“Fiery.” He smirks, appearing satisfied. “I like it.”
“Does that mean you’ll help me?”
It’s the perfect time to use the lustberry to my full advantage. I know what I have to do. But yet, if he’ll give in without me having to go there…
It would be much, much preferred on my end.
He leans in, the shadows of the park making his features appear surprisingly softer. “You’re asking for a lot, Amber,” he says, and I can’t help feeling a small sense of victory that he used my actual name. “Trust isn’t easily given in our world.”
“Then tell me, Lucas,” I say, meeting his gaze straight on. “What do you want in return for it?”
He pauses, thinking.
Then, finally, he concedes.
“A year ago, I let my guard down and allowed myself to trust. To love, even,” he starts, and when he lets his gaze roam over me, something else flashes in his eyes.
Something that looks like yearning.
It’s working.
“Her name was Rebekah,” he continues, and I wait patiently, since if he’s opening up to me, I’m not about to stop him. “She was from the uptown clan. She looked like you. Beautiful, fierce, and utterly captivating.”
“Damien’s never mentioned her,” I say, praying he believes the lie.
I know all about Rebekah. Damien told me about her yesterday.
I just have to make sure Lucas doesn’t know I know.
“He wouldn’t,” he says bitterly. “None of them would. They prefer to pretend she never existed than admit they’re so weak that they could be betrayed by one of their own.”
“She died,” I say simply.
Suspicion crosses over his eyes, and my throat tightens.
Two small words, and I might have messed up everything.
My heart pounds, my breaths coming faster.
I have to fix this. Now.
“You spoke of her in the past tense,” I say quickly. “People only speak about others in the past tense if they’re not here anymore. It was just an assumption.”
“A correct one,” he says, and I relax a bit. “The uptown vampires came for her because they were furious about her betrayal. Long story short, it turned violent. She was forced into a corner. Forced to use the last option available to protect herself—biting a supernatural.”