“The last ferry for Cres island leaves at eight thirty. We need to be on it,” I say. I don’t mention Ivan’s parting words as he wound his scarf over his head:

“Be wary, Audra. Your return is a great gift to the Utod. Be careful of those you surround yourself with, and most careful for yourself. For your own sake, I wish you had never been found.”

When I asked what he meant, he kissed me on both cheeks. “Tonight we will talk. I will tell you things you want to know, and many others it would be best you did not.” Despite the way his statement unsettled me—as it was designed to do—it contained the reassurance, at least, of answers to come. That, I could live with. For the moment.

Luka pauses. “ ‘We’?”

“I told them I had someone with me. A friend.”

He stops cold.

“Ivan’s taken the earlier ferry,” I continue. “He’ll meet us on the island dock.”

“Audra, I told you—”

“What was I supposed to do? You’re here, by your own insistence.”

“That’s my problem, not yours!”

I realize the irony. A hunter going into hiding with his mark. But I need him off-kilter, under more experienced scrutiny than mine. Just in case. After all, I trusted Rolan, too.

The possibility has never left my mind that Luka might be after the exact same information Rolan was. That he might have lied about having had the opportunity to kill me before I removed every trace of it from my brain. That I am still his mark. But as the logical side of my brain continues its waning code orange, it also sees the value of bringing him along. Talk about keeping your enemies closer.

“If it’s any consolation, they didn’t want to let you come,” I say.

“They shouldn’t have agreed. It wasn’t smart.” I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

“You promised to protect me. Kind of hard to do if you’re not with me. Besides, if we were as close as you say, I would’ve thought you’d be happy.”

“I would have followed, kept close on my own.”

“And you think they wouldn’t have noticed?”

“I did it for years! Audra, I don’t think you understand the kind of scrutiny you’re going to be under,” he says, though he might as well be talking about himself.

I shrug. “If anyone asks, just say you’re my boyfriend. It’ll make sense to anyone who saw you with me earlier this year, right?”

“What am I supposed to say if I get questioned by your friends?” He seems genuinely at a loss.