“What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

She glanced around at the gray morning that was just beginning to brighten and forced out a little laugh. “At the crack of dawn?”

“You’re up,” he pointed out, taking a step closer.

She wanted to ask how he’d known she would be, but part of her didn’t want that answer. He had Talents, she knew that. Strange Talents. He was staring at her, eyes intense in his otherwise calm face, and she couldn’t help shifting her weight uneasily.

“I can’t talk right now,” she said. “I . . . have an appointment in town. Made it days ago. I really don’t want to be late.” She could hear her voice shake.

Stupid. Stupid. Should have left last night.

“You’re packed for a trip,” he said.

Forcing surprised carelessness into her voice, she said, “Just for a week or so. I told you I might leave. For a while.” She felt cold suddenly, wondering if that was why he was here. But what could he do, after all? It wasn’t like he had any right to stop her.

“You can’t go,” he said.

“It’s just for a while,” she repeated. “I told you. I’d rather not watch everybody trying to think of something . . . kind . . . to say to me. Watch them feel sorry for me. It’s better if I get away for a while.”

She held her keys in one hand and fumbled with the other behind her for the driver’s-side door. “I’ll call you,” she added brightly.

“You can’t go,” he repeated.

Megan wanted to maintain her forced unconcern, but her heart was pounding harder than before, she felt cold even in the muggy air, and some instinct she’d never before been aware of urged her to move quickly, to get away from him.

Never mind being polite, being reasonable.

Just move.

He looked suddenly unfamiliar in the grayish morning light, oddly . . . blurred. Except for his eyes. Those sharp, intense, strangely colored eyes. It had been exciting at first, having his focused gaze on her, looking at her in a way no one ever had before, as if nothing had existed for him except her. Seeing her, she’d thought, so clearly. But now all she felt was the overwhelming need to escape.

“I’ll call you,” she repeated, and forced herself to turn her back on him, a strange crawly sensation creeping over her body, all her muscles tensing. Weird. It was so weird—

“No.”

Megan tried to pull the car door open, but it was as if all the strength drained out of her in a rush and she couldn’t move suddenly, couldn’t do anything but look down at her own hand, watch it shake, watch his much larger one covering hers, tightening until she wanted to cry out in pain.

Why couldn’t she move?

“No, Megan,” he said almost sadly. “I can’t let you leave Salem. I can’t let you leave me.”