“That you know as much as I do. Listen. We met while I was leading my double life in Europe. We fell in love, I told you what I was. As far as you know, the trauma of being constantly on the run and hunted was more than I could take. That’s why I got the procedure. You agreed because it was the only way to save my life from the threat of some nameless, faceless hunter you were inept to protect me against—”

“Thanks.”

“It was an out, an opportunity for us to start over and be together. It’s very romantic,” I say drily.

He looks sharply at me. I smile. “Hey, look at it this way: If we were a thing, it’s not even lying.”

He pulls me into a doorway then, penning me in the shadows. He’s not smiling. “One problem: The Progeny don’t share who they are,” he hisses.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, and they’ve killed their own for less.”

“Bullcrap, Luka. I just met two people whose mother was Utod and father was not.”

“I guarantee you the father had no idea.” His expression has darkened. “And if he did, there’d be serious consequences.”

“As serious as me hooking up with my own hunter? Would that be more believable?” I shoot back.

For a moment, he actually looks rattled, a quick succession of emotions playing across his face.

“Listen. You’re the golden child of Amerie Szabo. Don’t lose that card. You need them on your side.” He searches my eyes, says more softly, “Please.”

Is that the look of someone urging—no, practically begging—for my sake, or for his?

“Fine. You’re the friend I met over here during my time off from college. You came back to the States with me. You said yourself you were working for your dad to earn money to go to school in the U.S. When we got back I told you my abusive ex-boyfriend was stalking and going to kill me. I got the procedure, faked my death to get away. You came to Maine to look out for me because that’s the kind of stand-up guy you are, and yeah, okay, you’re into me. Everything was fine until my ex found me and started harassing me again, taking me all the way to the Center to try to get my memory back. As far as you know, we’re here meeting up with my old friends to get me away from him. Good enough for you?”

He turns his head slowly, eyes on me. “It’s scary, how fast you came up with that.”

I lean closer.

“You want scary? Try this: If, for any reason, I find out you’ve been lying to me all this time, I will out you to them all. I’m pretty sure that would have ‘serious consequences.’ ”