“It’s for the best,” Jake said, his intense gaze not leaving mine. “You’re going to erase me from your memory completely.”

I took the book and tossed it onto the blankets. “I don’t understand,” I said, wanting—no, needing—to get to the bottom of this. “Is this connected to why you ran away from the vampire guards?”

“Yes.” The intensity left his gaze, and it turned into something else. Confusion.

I thought back on the entire night—dancing with him, the guards showing up, and bringing him here. I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He just stood there, watching me.

Something wasn’t adding up. And there was no way I was going to forget we ever met. I couldn’t forget him, not even if I wanted to.

“I put myself at risk bringing you here tonight.” I crossed my arms, irritated now. “The least you can do is give me some answers.”

“I can’t.” His eyes darted around the attic, as if searching for a way out. “I have to go.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Home,” he replied. “And if you’re thinking about trying to follow me—don’t.”

I took a step back, rejection and hurt swirling through my chest. I didn’t get it. As silly as it sounded, I’d felt a connection with Jake while we were dancing. I wouldn’t have taken him here if I hadn’t. I’d thought he felt it, too. After all, he was the one who’d asked me to dance. He was the one who’d agreed to come with me, and who seemed to be enjoying spending time with me. Now he wanted me to forget him?

What could he possibly be involved with that would make him scared of the vampires?

Unless we broke one of their rules, the vampires protected the humans in the village. They needed to, since we were their food.

The only reason to be scared of them was if you’d broken one of their laws and feared being taken to the dungeon.

“Are they trying to arrest you?” I asked. “Is that why you needed to run?”

“No,” he said curtly.

“Then why did you need to hide from them?”

“I can’t tell you that.” He looked away from me, his expression hard.

“I’ll keep your secret.” I stepped closer and took his hand in mine, hoping it would convince him to open up to me and stay. “I promise.”

He hesitated, and for a moment I thought I’d convinced him—that he was going to tell me what he was hiding.

“I can’t.” He pulled his hand out of mine, and my heart fell at his rejection. “But I do have a question for you.”

“Okay.” I straightened, hoping that this question would get me closer to figuring out some answers.

“Do you—or the others at the Tavern—have access to wormwood?” he asked.

“No,” I said instantly. “We’re not allowed to have wormwood. You know that. If it’s in our system, our blood tastes bad to the vampires.”

“I wasn’t asking if you ingested wormwood,” he said. “I was asking if you have access to it. Or if you’re wearing it right now.”

“No,” I repeated, and I took a step back, unsure what was going on. We truly didn’t have any wormwood here—if we were found with it, it was grounds for being taken to the dungeons.

Was he working undercover for the vampires? Did they suspect that the Tavern was growing wormwood and were sending him to investigate?

I didn’t know why they would do that instead of simply storming the Tavern themselves.

Unless he was trying to get wormwood himself? Maybe he was trying to rebel against the vampires?

Maybe he wanted to attempt escape?

“Why are you asking?” I spoke slowly and softly, hoping it would help him open up to me. “Whatever it is, you can trust me. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“I know I can trust you,” he said.

“Then tell me what’s going on,” I begged. “So I can help you.”

“You’ve already done more than enough,” he said. “My problems are my own, and I can handle them from here.”

“So you’re leaving?” I asked. “Just like that?”

“I have to.”

Clearly I wasn’t going to get any more information out of him tonight. But at the same time, for reasons I didn’t understand, I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again. If we never saw each other again, I would fear the worst—that he’d been imprisoned, or that he’d tried to escape and had been killed by the wolves. I would always blame myself for not trying harder to help him right now.

“I know you asked me to forget you, but I can’t do that,” I said, forcing myself to stay strong. “So before you go, can you answer one more question?”

“Depends on what that question is.” He smirked.

It took everything in me not to chuckle—his comment was exactly what I would have said in response to that question—but I remained serious. “Will I ever see you again?” I asked.

He studied me, and I could tell he was thinking carefully about his response. “Yes,” he finally said. “You can count on it.”

Then he hurried across the room and thrust himself out of the window, moving so fast that I didn’t have time to tell him to be careful.

By the time I looked out to make sure he’d gotten down safely, he was gone.