Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (27)

Reese smiled again, those dimples popping. “A little work, a little play.”

“Always a good combo.” I set the glass on a cocktail napkin. “Just flag me down when you’re ready to order.”

I moved to the next patrons, a couple from Nevada, in town for some hiking and wine tasting. I found a rhythm in the steady stream of customers the afternoon had to offer, but I still felt the heat of Kol’s gaze flicking to me every so often as I worked.

It didn’t feel like the gazes of others. It didn’t make me twitchy or anxious. It felt … comforting. As if there were no way I could disappear when he was around.

“So,” Reese said, pulling my attention, “any recs for spots to hit up around town?”

I was really the wrong person to ask about that, but I didn’t welcome the conversation that would come with saying I was new in town—sort of. How did you explain that you’d been in Starlight Grove for over a year yet had only been to a handful of places?

Instead, I filled in what I knew. “The Grove Griddle has the best pancakes I’ve ever had in my life. Hit up the Cozy Cup for an excellent latte. And you can’t go wrong with any of the wineries in the area.”

“What about hikes?” Reese asked, his focus staying on my face. “Any recommendations there?”

A chill skittered up my spine as I remembered the last hike I’d been on. “Not much of a hiker. Can’t help you there.”

“What about Three Creeks Canyon Trail? Heard it’s pretty.”

A wave of dizziness swept over me. It was the place I’d been taken from. I only remembered bits and pieces: driving to the trail with Brae, being annoyed that she went off trail to look at more wildflowers, and then … nothing. It was one big blank.

“Not sure,” I forced out. “You’ll have to ask someone else.”

I felt Kol’s gaze on me, his radar for my trauma and anxiety as astute as always.

I tried to move down the bar to check on the Nevada couple, but Reese stopped me.

“Nova.”

I froze. I hadn’t told him my name. And none of us wore name tags.

My gaze snapped to him as I went instantly on alert. For what, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like I had the skills to defend myself. I’d taken one self-defense class at the local YMCA with Brae, and that knowledge was rusty at best. That was something I needed to change. I caught sight of the tiny knife used to prep lemon and lime wedges. My fighting instincts were there, at least. That was something.

“I know who you are,” he said, his voice gentle.

“So do a lot of people,” I clipped.

“I was one of the people who helped. I’m a journalist. I covered the case from nearly the beginning. And now, I’m making a documentary. I really want to dive into the mind of the monster and how you survived.”

The dizziness intensified, and I gripped the edge of the bar to steady myself. “Good for you, but I don’t do interviews.”

“Come on, Nova. Not even for someone who helped find you?” Reese pushed.

Helped find me?

He hadn’t helped find me. Brae had helped find me. Dex and all the Archers. Kol.

Kol was the one who never gave up. Even when everyone else thought I was dead. He believed I was still alive. Still breathing.

“Everything okay?” His deep voice found me even now.

I hadn’t noticed him rise from his stool or cross to us. I hadn’t heard the footsteps. But that, too, was Kol. Not showy about his dominance, his protection, but always acting when it was needed.

Annoyance flashed over Reese’s face. “All good, bro. Just chatting.”

Kol didn’t move, didn’t look away from his target. “Nova?”

“He’s a reporter,” I croaked.

I hated that I couldn’t pull it together. That I couldn’t tell the damn journalist to get out myself.

Kol’s hazel eyes darkened, the glimmers of darkness nearly snuffing out the light ones completely. “Is he, now?”

Reese shoved back his stool. “Hey, I don’t want any trouble. I was just telling Nova I was making a documentary. Giving her a chance to be a part of it.”

“You want to be a part of that?” Kol asked me without taking his eyes off Reese.

“No.” My lungs were so tight, just that single syllable hurt.

Kol took two steps, his massive, six-foot-four frame towering over Reese. “Then kindly get the fuck out. And stay out,” he snarled.





CHAPTER NINE


Kol




FURY COURSED THROUGH ME IN SCALDING WAVES. IT HAD blood rushing in my ears and that vein in my neck pulsing. A fucking reporter. I knew all about those snakes in the grass.

They’d hunted my brothers and me after our father’s death and the discovery of who he really was. They’d surrounded our property in Connecticut, some photographers even going so far as to scale walls to try to get a shot of us. They screamed their questions as we drove by in tinted-window SUVs.

Hell, Mav had only been eleven at the time, recovering from wounds that had almost ended his life, and they didn’t give a damn. They followed us across the country to Starlight Grove, waited just off our schools’ premises with long-range lenses, and sensationalized everything that happened.