When he realized Jade wasn’t going to answer, Lucas turned again to Rance. “Why are you bothering with stories about a hypothetical lake monster? I’d think you were famous enough without having to spend time on fluff like that.”
Only because she was watching Rance closely did Jade see the kid had scored a direct hit. Though the wince seemed barely perceptible, she saw it.
“Fame is a fleeting thing,” Rance responded, a trace of bitterness in his voice. He’d once been famous, but jobs had dried up when he’d started drinking. And then once Eve had became ill, he’d basically quit. “But if you’ve followed my work, you surely know I’ve always specialized in photographing offbeat, unusual stories.”
“And put your own personal spin on them.” Lucas shook his head, clearly disappointed. “But this is different.”
Rance’s gaze sharpened. “How so?”
Jade placed a warning hand on the teenager’s shoulder, just in case he might be goaded to say something he’d regret.
“This is beneath you,” Lucas tried, his voice vibrating with the urgency of his conviction. Not for the first time, Jade wondered why her younger sisters refused even to give him the time of day.
“Is it?” Though Rance spoke in a mild tone, his gray gaze blazed. “These sorts of things have long been a personal interest of mine. And I’m finally at a point in my career where I’ve earned the right to do what I want.”
“Even if doing what you want hurts people?” The kid stared intently, perhaps realizing his idol might actually have feet of clay.
Rance tilted his head, his dark shaggy hair glinting in the sunlight. “Explain.”
Double crap. “I think that’s enough for now,” Jade interjected, giving Lucas a stern look. “I appreciate your help, Lucas, but I’ll be handling this.”
Immediately he dropped his head. “Whatever. I guess you have to since you’re the Guardian.”
Though she winced inside, she managed to keep her face expressionless. Of course Rance missed nothing. She had no doubt he’d made a mental note and would ask her about this later.
So be it. For whatever reason, Libby had chosen to show herself to him. That had to mean something. Until she knew more, all Jade could do was try and distract him. And hope and pray she could talk him out of writing that article.
“I’d like to walk along the shoreline,” Rance said. “Would you care to join me?”
“Of course.” She hoped she managed to sound as smooth as he did. Her inner wolf, reacting to her heightened emotions, paced. Snarled, wanting to break free. Even though she’d just changed the night before, her beast wanted more. She’d need to make an effort to shift and have another hunting run that evening. Since she preferred to become wolf in a group, her large family came in handy at times like this. She’d have to see who else might want to go with her.
“Hey, darlin’.” Rance’s light tap on her shoulder startled her, nearly making her lose her footing. Only his quick grab of her elbow stopped her from falling.
“Are you okay?” he asked, holding on for a heartbeat too long before releasing her.
She decided to be honest. “Not really. I’m confused and a bit unsettled.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “You sound like you mean that.”
“I do.”
At this, she shook her head. “If you really were sorry, you’d leave town.”
“Ah, you know I can’t do that.”
Somehow she’d suspected he’d say that. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Good point.” As they climbed over another rocky patch, he once again took her arm. And once again, she had to pretend her skin didn’t tingle from the contact. Funny thing that. She hadn’t realized she could be capable of such tangled emotions. She both wanted the man gone, and to wrap herself around him and never let him go.
* * *
Days like today, Libby felt the full weight of her many years. Her kind did not live forever, but their lifespan far exceeded that of humans or other shape-shifters. She’d constructed the Guardian necklace when she’d first arrived in Forestwood years ago, using an unusual purple-colored stone she’d found deep in the lake. Since then, each Guardian wore the talisman, passing it down to their successors. Libby had a matching one in her jewelry box somewhere, though she no longer felt the need to wear it. She’d learned long ago that a piece of metal and stone couldn’t replace an actual connection between living beings.
Sometimes the loneliness made her bones ache. When that happened, she’d go out into the lake, change into her beast and sink to the bottom, holding her breath as long as she could. Long enough to make herself dizzy. Long enough to almost convince herself that she could make herself drown.
Libby hadn’t always been alone. Once, a long time ago, she’d been surrounded by others of her kind. Friends and lovers, family and strangers. A vibrant community, similar to the one Jade and the Burnetts enjoyed here in Forestwood. Like those of the Pack, they’d spent most of their time in human form, taking great care never to allow regular humans to see them change.
Unfortunately, due to their great size, sightings had abounded. Through the centuries, they’d been alternatively revered and feared, worshipped and hunted.
Now there were so few of them they’d become mysterious. The lake creature that might be real. Or just myth.
Libby no longer cared. After years of doing what she should, she wanted a normal life. With friends and a man.
She wished she could discuss this with Jade. She had, at least inside her head, many times. She could picture how the conversation would go, could see Jade shoving her fingers into her thick silver hair to push it back from her face, and demanding to know why Libby didn’t have those things she claimed to want so badly.
The sad truth was, Libby didn’t know. When she’d been younger, before the illness killed off so many of her kind, she’d fallen in love. More than once. She’d broken hearts and had her own shattered. And then...so many got sick, so many dying, and her father had spirited her away to this small town and ordered her to stay here, away from her own kind, her own people.
“Only until the illness passes,” he said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll come for you then.”
Except he hadn’t. He’d fallen ill, just like a score of others, and she never saw him again.
These days, her aloneness lay gently across her shoulders like a cashmere cloak. She’d long ago stopped wanting more. She even managed to convince herself that she was satisfied—satisfied—with her life.
And then Amber Burnett had asked if her daughter could take over as caretaker. Libby hadn’t hesitated to agree, even though she usually was the one who chose the next Guardian. After her agreement, Jade had visited Libby for the first time alone.
At first, a young Jade had been terrified of her. Libby had felt the pain of that like a knife stabbing in her gut. For the first time in her life, she’d hated being considered a monster. Once, her iridescent scales had been considered beautiful. Now she’d been relegated to a thing, a creature or a beast, lurking in the depths of Forestwood Lake.
That hurt more than she would ever have believed possible.
Over the past nine years, she and Libby had grown close. Her relationship with Jade gave her hope. Of all the Guardians over the years, only Jade treated her like a friend or a relative, rather than a creature to be feared. Originally, when Libby had first arrived in Forestwood, she’d done as her father requested and set the whole Guardian thing up. She’d chosen a Burnett simply because one happened to be hiking out near the lake. At first, the Burnetts had been tasked with