Page 49 of Lucien

He’d definitely thought she did.

Monique eyed his fingers’ frantic rhythm, pursing her lips a little, but didn’t ask him to stop. She knew him too well for that. “I know I didn’t handle it well. I just— It didn’t make any sense to me. I’ve never even been superstitious before. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking maybe you’d just heard it somewhere else first. Like you were playing pretend about it being a—a premonition.”

“I told you what I sawbeforeit happened.” And given the chance to do it all over again, Jamie wasn’t sure he would. He’d been young, still in high school. He’d thought somehow he owed it to her to tell her, that the knowing would help.

He didn’t think that way anymore.

Monique huffed a frustrated breath. “I know you did. It wasn’t making sense in my own brain. It was just so…so—Tessa almostdied.”

Monique’s girlfriend at the time had been on a breathing machine for over a week. And every time Jamie had seen Monique during the ordeal, she’d had this….look…in her eyes. Grief, yes. Fear for her girlfriend’s life, most definitely.

But also condemnation.Blame.

Like Jamie was the problem.

Jamie tapped away with his fingers, having trouble meeting Monique’s eyes. The old blame wasn’t there, but in its place was an earnestness he didn’t know what to do with.

“They always seem to come true, you know,” he found himself telling her. “No matter what I do, I don’t seem to have any control over the outcome.”

“That must be frightening.”

Jamie didn’t answer. Was it frightening? He was so used to it at this point. And his visions had brought him Luc, in a way. They’d allowed him to prepare himself for his monster finding him.

Monique cleared her throat. “You know, you pushed me away just as much, in the beginning. It was like you were rejecting me before I could reject you first. You seem so open on the surface, Jamie, but you can be really closed off when you want to be.”

Jamie cocked his head, considering that. He supposed it was true. He often left things at surface level, if the people around him allowed it. It felt safer that way. Fewer chances to freak them out by knowing things he wasn’t supposed to know.

“You’re not closed off withhimthough,” Monique pointed out.

Jamie laughed. “Was this all a really long-winded way of telling me you don’t approve of my new boyfriend?”

Monique latched onto that immediately. “Boyfriend?” she asked skeptically.

“Boyfriend,” Jamie asserted, his voice firm.

Now it was Monique’s turn to laugh. “Damn, Jamie. When you move, you movefast. But no. This is my way of telling you—I don’t know, I guess that it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. You have people here who love you.Reallylove you.”

Jamie’s fingers stilled, and he met Monique’s concerned brown eyes. “I don’t understand.”

She gave a hapless shrug. “It’s just— Ever since high school ended, you’ve always seemed like you have one foot out the door. I always expect any day now you’ll waltz in and tell me you’re off to travel the world and never return. And if you want to leave, that’s fine.” She placed a hand on his arm and gave a light squeeze. “I just want to make sure you know you can come back. Anytime. Always. You have people here who love you.”

Jamie felt a rush of warmth and love for his childhood friend. “I know that,” he assured her, placing a hand on top of hers. “I promise I do.”

Except, according to Luc, it was possible—probable, even—that Jamie wouldn’t be able to come back. That it might take him years and years to control his urges enough to be around the people that knew him the best. And by the time hecouldcontrol those urges, enough years could have passed that it would raise suspicion to return still looking twenty-three.

He’d be a different Jamie altogether for an unknowable amount of time. Bloodthirsty. Wild.

Jamie didn’t mind that for himself, exactly. He wasn’t afraid of changing. He had faith—in himself, in Luc, in their bond.

But he would miss the people he loved. Maybe more than he’d let himself think.

Monique gave his arm one last squeeze before drawing her hand back and giving a little laugh. “Okay, serious talk over, I promise.”

Jamie for his part let out his own deep breath, grateful when she picked up the cereal box from the coffee table, tilting it in question before pouring a handful of its contents into Jamie’s hand, giving him something to occupy his mouth with. Something to focus on besides the twisty, unsettled feeling in his stomach.

“Except, just one more thing.”

Jamie groaned. “Nooo,” he whined. “I can’t handle any more sincerity right now.”

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