Page 82 of Veil of Death and Shadow

His grip tightened on the paddle, the smooth cadence of his stroke breaking just a touch. “Um, I’m outside the city, mostly.”

I studied him. “How far outside of the city?”

He shrugged. “It changes. Sometimes I’m close, but otherwise, I’m a few hours out.”

My jaw dropped. “Hours?”

His eyes shifted to mine, then back to the water, like he was embarrassed. “There’s not much to do where I’m working. I don’t even have cell service.” That explained the infrequency of his texts. “So I drive into the city for a night or two when I’m off. Clear my head away from—everything.”

I thought back to that day at Frank’s. He’d been drowning his sorrows in liquor. He was also stiff and moodier than now. “What kind of work do you do, exactly?”

He was silent for a long stretch, like he was searching for the right words—something that instantly had my hackles up, because why did he make it seem like it was such a difficult question? “My family works in protective detail. And right now, my mom is spending a lot of time with a small town in the mountains. I can kind of come and go when I want, butsometimes she sends me out of the state, too—for other clients and stuff.”

“Protective detail,” I repeated, rolling the words over my tongue. Like a bodyguard? What the hell did that mean? And who needed security in the mountains? “How long have you been doing that?”

He shrugged. “As long as I can remember.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t have been working that long. You don’t look all that older than me, and I doubt your family let you go all secret service mode as a minor.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything.

“And you don’t know how long you’ll be around the area?”

He shook his head. “Not forever, just until my skills are needed elsewhere.”

“And those skills are?”

A smile stretched across his face, that dimple making an appearance again. “Teaching girls how to punch asshats.

I chuckled, though I recognized the clear attempt to change the topic for what it was. “You won’t tell me what you do, where you’re from, how long you’re here. What will you tell me?” When the silence stretched between us again, heavier now, I became abundantly aware of the fact that I was in the middle of the water with a virtual stranger. I was a strong swimmer, and was pretty confident that I could get away from him if I needed to—that was one of the reasons I’d suggested we do the tour here instead of in a car—but he wasn’t exactly offering trustworthy vibes. “You’ve got to give me something, Levi, otherwise I’m just going to think that I’ve embarked on a transactional venture with a serial killer.”

He stopped paddling for a moment, and we watched a crew team pass us, their soft chants fading with each pull. “I can’t tell you a lot about what I do or why I’m here, Mareena. I could lie, make shit up,” his eyes snagged on mine, an emotion I couldn’tparse flitting across his features, “but I really don’t want to do that.”

That night at the canal, he’d been oddly easy to talk to. At least Sora seemed to think so. And he didn’t seem to have trouble chatting with Chase or the bouncer at the party. Just me.

He was an indecipherable puzzle—one that occasionally made it seem like it was solvable, only for you to step back and realize that there were twice as many pieces than when you first opened the box.

I dipped my feet in the water. “Okay, then tell me something about you. Or about your family. Just—” I watched a seagull dive into the water, fishing out its lunch, “tell me something true.” I flicked at the water. “It’s only fair. Sora spilled one of my darkest secrets within, like, twenty minutes of talking to you.”

“To be fair,” he sat down on his calves, giving up on paddling altogether now, “you’re more a closed book than you think you are. Maybe the most locked down person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of locked down people.” He shifted, letting out a breathy laugh. “Besides, Sora hardly revealed anything. She just told me that you thought you were cursed. That you believe, on some level, that those you’re close to die. I wouldn’t really call that a particularly soul-baring secret. If anything, that tells me more about the people around you than it does you. Plus, for all you know, I brushed it off as a joke.”

“You didn’t.” I was suddenly incredibly aware of the fact that his knee was only an inch or two away from mine.

He shook his head. “No but, in the interest of fairness and keeping things transactional, I also gave you one of my own fears in return.”

The way he lingered on the word ‘gave’ made me realize that that moment had been more soul-baring for him than I’d realized.

“You really believe that you have no say in your destiny?” I asked.

He arched his brow. “You really believe you kill people by association?”

“Touche.”

“What will convince you that I’m not a serial killer?” He shot me a coy grin. “Since apparently saving you from a drugged beer isn’t cutting it.”

“Oh please,” I grunted, “everyone knows that serial killers enjoy doing the killing part themselves.” I flicked some water on the board at him. “If anything, you were just saving me from Ace so that you could get me off yourself.” Heat crawled up my neck as I instantly realized my mistake. “I mean off me,” I corrected, flustered. “Off meyourself.”

“Off you,” he said, then he let out a deep and husky chuckle that did strange things to my stomach.

---