“Let’s go,” I said urgently.
Luke didn’t need any more encouragement. He reversed so fast that the tires scrubbed pavement when he stopped and shoved the car into first gear. With a wail from the engine, we tore out of the parking lot, clipping down the road at well above the speed limit. A mile away, the thyme began to fade. After three miles—past the turn for my house—it was nearly gone. Ten miles from Dave’s, there was nothing left in the car but the faint clean odor that was Luke’s.
I wanted to say something about it, but it would break the unspoken rule of pretending he was normal. Anyway, I knew now that it wasn’t just him that was abnormal. There was some big storm, just like the purple tempest above, that was circling around me, waiting to break, and Luke was only one of its elements. The freckled guy was another, and maybe Eleanor from the reception as well. And all the four-leaf clovers.
“Damn!” Luke yelled suddenly, slamming on the brakes. A white hound leapt out of the middle of the road, and I gasped, “Rye?” But then another white hound leapt out from the brush by the side of the road, and then another, and another, disappearing after the first in the brush on the opposite bank. There must have been twenty—all copies of Rye, baying and howling.
“They all look like Rye,” I said softly. For some reason it was the most supernatural thing I’d seen all week, and it was just a pack of hounds. Just a pack of hounds, all the same color as Rye. They could have been littermates. A freaking lot of littermates. I had gone almost seventeen years without seeing another dog like Rye, and now there were twenty of them?
I became aware that Luke was looking at me. “You saw them?”
“There were twenty of them. Of course I saw them!”
Luke muttered something and made a U-turn to head back to the house. His fingers clutched the steering wheel. I didn’t know what had disturbed him, but I knew I didn’t like to see him upset. I’d only known him a few days and already I relied on him to be even and understated; this barely hidden anxiety bothered me more than it should have.
I summoned up my nerve and reached over to his hands on the wheel. He let me pull one of them off and I just held it, our hands sitting on the console between us. We rode like that for the few minutes home—my heart pounding, he removing his hand only to shift gears, and then lacing his fingers again with mine.
We got to my parents’ driveway too soon. Luke parked on the street and dragged his thumb over the back of my hand. Thoughtfully, he watched a silhouette move past the kitchen window. Whoever it was didn’t notice us, lost in dinner preparations maybe.
“Your mom can do just about anything she tries too, can’t she?”
It was a weird question. Of all the things I thought he might say, I didn’t think that was one of them. “I guess so. She never thinks she’s good at what she does, but she is.”
“So maybe that’s all there is to it. Genetics. That’s it. You’re just from a family of insanely talented people.”
I pulled my hand away. “Well, that’s vaguely insulting.”
Luke’s eyes were trained on the kitchen window. “No, it’s promising.”
Screw the unspoken agreement. “Are you ever going to tell me anything? At all?”
His eyes darted past me to the car windows, and then to the rearview mirror. He reached over and touched my chin; the lightest of touches could drag away my protests. “Shh, pretty girl.” I closed my eyes, letting him draw his finger toward my collarbone.
Mom. The idea that she could look out the kitchen window at any minute instantly forced my eyes open. “Don’t think you can seduce me into blind trust.”
“Damn,” Luke said. “Are you sure? How about shopping? Will you come into the city with me tomorrow?”
“I’m not much of a shopper. You were better off with the seducing.”
His pale eyes glanced out the windows again and he leaned in very close, whispering. “The city’s more private. Better place to—talk.” He leaned back and said more loudly, “You know, to get to know each other.”
Okay, now wild horses couldn’t keep me away. “You’re on. When?”
“Pick you up at four?”
I nodded. Luke glanced out the window again, this time at the sky. “We’d better get you in before it rains.”
Reluctantly, I climbed out of the car with my backpack and joined him at the end of the driveway. A single cold drop of rain burst on my arm, raising an army of goose bumps around it. Thunder rumbled distantly over the trees.
“It’ll be quite a storm.” Luke squinted up at the clouds.
I watched another drop hit a leaf on the lawn, momentarily bearing it to the ground. It struck me that there was something not quite right about the way the lawn looked. Maybe it was the half-light of the clouds, but it just seemed darker, more vibrant, greener than I remembered it being this morning. Then I realized what was different.
“Luke,” I said flatly, hands dropping to my sides.
He stood beside me and looked at the solid carpet of clover that covered the lawn—every one I could see bearing four leaves. For a long moment, we stood in silence … an occasional raindrop penetrating to the scalp or slipping into a collar.
Then Luke said loudly, to no one in particular, “You’re wasting your time. She doesn’t need them anymore.” He took my hand tightly and led me toward the house. “Please use your wits until tomorrow. There’s a storm coming.”
He turned and jogged lightly down the driveway, pausing beside his car. I ducked around the side of the back porch, pretending to go in, and then crept back around, crouching behind an azalea bush.
Luke’s voice was faint but unmistakable, with an unusual timbre to it that I couldn’t place. “She saw the hounds. She’s learning—she’ll see the rest of you soon enough. You don’t have to waste your time with these silly parlor tricks. She doesn’t need them.”
He paused, as if someone else was speaking, though I heard nothing but the drip of raindrops and the slow roar of thunder. Luke, again: “I don’t need an escort. Do you think I haven’t done this before?”
I bit my lip.
“I’m just not sure she’s anything that interests you.” Pause. “Damn it, I’ll get it done. Leave me the hell alone, would you? Just leave me alone.” The car door slammed and I heard the engine thrum to life.
I went inside the house, suddenly cold.