FOUR
remembered her. Anya had spent all weekend at home, and no trackers had come kicking down her door. She assured her uncle she would be okay going back to school, but her resolve crumbled the moment she spotted Tristan leaning against the wall near her locker.
She hid behind a wall and pressed her notebook to her chest. Her heart thumped so loud, she thought for sure Tristan would hear and easily find her. She stood frozen for several seconds with her back against a wall near the stairs. The thought of breaking into a sprint and turning every corner until she reached the end of the earth crossed her mind, but running away from Tristan would only make him more suspicious of her. She needed to play it cool. There was no way his memory of that night—of that incident—could possibly be reliable. He was barely conscious.
Anya sucked in a breath and stepped out into the crowded hallway. She lowered her eyes to the floor until she reached her locker. Before she even finished turning her combination, Tristan was already at her side. His eyes were so intense, it made her heart race even faster. Or it could’ve been how close he was standing. He’d never been that close to her.
“I believe this belongs to you,” he said, opening his hand to reveal her name tag from the coffee shop. “Anya, is it?”
Anya glanced at the tag briefly, then shifted her attention back into her locker, trying not to appear surprised. “I’ve been looking for that. Where did you find it?”
He leaned closer as she continued rummaging through her locker. “You know exactly where I found this.”
She looked at him with an arched brow, then slammed her locker closed. “I’m going to be late for class—”
Before she could walk away, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the nearest janitor’s closet.
“Hey, watch it!” She yanked her arm from his grip and pulled away.
He closed the door behind them, then pulled on a string above their heads. When the light turned on, she was met with a scowl.
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know what you are,” he said, taking a step toward her with his brows knitted together. “I saw you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
He pulled his shirt over his head and pointed to his chest. “My skin should be nothing but raw flesh,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “But instead, it’s as smooth as it’s ever been.”
He was right. It really was smooth, and his muscles were like hills and valleys, and when he took yet another step toward her, the proximity sent a wave of heat over her. He was so close, she could sense his spring fresh soap.
“What did you do to me?” he demanded.
Anya hid her hands behind her back and lowered her gaze to the floor. “I didn’t do anything.”
Tristan pulled a blood sugar meter from his pocket, and she pressed her back to a wooden shelf.
“Care to prove it?” he said, holding up the meter.
She stared at the device for a moment. Even if she fought him or slapped the device to the floor and stumped on it until it shattered, it wouldn’t change anything. He would still know the truth. There was no hiding anymore.
Anya squared her shoulders, unafraid. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to know what you did to me,” he said, lowering the meter.
“Why does it matter?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”
“I was blasted with acid,” he hissed. “Now, tell me, what did you do to me?”
“I healed you.” She met his eyes. “The acid melted your skin, and it was melting your organs. You were dying, so I healed you.”
Tristan stepped back as if an invisible force had pushed him. “You have healing abilities?”
Anya hesitated for a brief moment. “Yes, I do.” She took in a courageous breath and lifted her wrists in front of him. “Now what? Are you going to arrest me with your power-dampening cuffs?”
Tristan looked at her wrists as if contemplating the obvious, but then he shook his head and pushed her hands down. “If you knew what I stood for, why did you save my life?”
She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, I’m deeply regretting that right about now.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Why even bother dragging me into this closet, Tristan?” she asked, surprised at how natural it was to say his name.
When she looked at him, it was as if she was still talking with the kind boy from middle school. The one who gave her his apple when her lunch fell on the floor. Who lent his pencil when she forgot hers. They had never spoken more than five words to each other over the years, but she had always known he was there. But clearly, he had never noticed her the same way. Not until that moment.
“If you’re going to take me to be dissected like a lab rat, then cuff me,” Anya said. “Otherwise, get out of my way.”
He stared at her for a long time, his brows still knitted together. “You have until the end of the week to get your affairs in order and disappear from this town.”
“The end of the week?” she echoed. “I have nowhere to go. I don’t have enough money.”
“If you’re still here by next Monday,” he said firmly, “I will cuff you and turn you in.” Without another word, he slipped his shirt back on and walked out of the closet.
Anya let out a shaky breath as her knees failed her. She slid down to the floor and hugged her legs. She knew he wasn’t bluffing. That was clear by the hatred in his eyes. Even though she saved his life, he still looked at her like she didn’t belong in the world. It stung more than she cared to admit. She was just as human as everyone else. It wasn’t her fault she was born different. It wasn’t fair. And one week? How was that enough time to get her affairs in order?
Anya had given herself at least until graduation. That would’ve given her more time to save money. To say goodbye. But that was no longer an option. She needed to disappear without a trace. Without a plan.
But most importantly...without her family.