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Unless…

Quickly and quietly, I skirt around her and so I’m facing her, not stalking her from behind. When I’m ten feet in front of her, I say, “Miss, are you okay?”

She startles and stops walking. Just in time, too, as she’s dangerously close to a crater.

“I’m fine. Leave,” she says in a threatening voice I’ve never heard her use in all the months I’ve shadowed her. She straightens her back and her hands fist.

Pride wells in me at seeing her preparing to fight. My little bird is not easily defeated.

Except she’s not mine. Not yet.

“You are entering a dangerous area, Miss. There are many hazards from the war here. Especially at night. And with the cloud cover the way it is, you’ll never see most of the hazards until it’s too late. That pit in front of you is just one of many.” I pretend to not notice she’s blind, so she’ll maintain a sense of security.

“Pit?” Her voice shakes.

“Aye.” I picked up this word from the male who cooks for my employer. “This area is riddled with bomb craters.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.”

She’s smart, hiding her vulnerability.

“Were you looking for something in particular? If it’s a shortcut, forget it. There’s barbed wire all over the place to keep people out. I’m surprised you found your way in. I’m guessing a tree fell and took down a section of fence bordering the park,” I lie. If I’m careful about how I speak with her, I can guide her out of here without revealing who I am.

“I’m just exploring.”

“There are better areas to explore. I have to be going. I can escort you out of here if you’d like.”

“Escort me where?” she asks, her voice dripping with skepticism.

“Anywhere you’d like. But I’m pressed for time. I’m heading to a party at a friend’s house over on Hastings.”

“Hastings??” Her face relaxes slightly.

I hate manipulating her like this. But it’s necessary. If I blow my cover, I’ll lose her.

“Aye, a Halloween party at Noah Whittaker’s.”

Her face lights beneath the pointed black hat. I’d like to remove it and run my fingers through her glorious curls, to feel the silkiness there, but I restrain myself.

The entire idea of this holiday confounds me, so I cannot judge what is scary to a human. The hat, long black dress, andcape appear odd compared to her usual clothing of jeans and a sweater, but she is too beautiful, no matter what she wears, to frighten anyone.

“I see you’re heading to a party as well, though I’m not sure what you’re dressed as.”

“Hmm. You’re the second person to say that. I wonder where I went wrong? I thought the witch’s hat would make it obvious.” She twirls in place, letting the bottom of her dress poof up.

My little bird loves to dance. I’ve watched her through her window many times.

“This area is really dark. I must admit, I can’t make out your costume,” she says, with that carefree smile returning to her face.

Panic spreads through me. She might ask to touch my clothing to ‘see’ what I’m wearing. I cannot hide my horns from her. If she touches them, she’ll discover I’m not human.

“An alien,” I say, the idea coming to me suddenly. It’s perfect. If she touches my horns, she’ll believe they’re part of my costume.

“That’s different. How about we walk together? I’m heading to Noah’s party as well. He’s my cousin.”

“Really?” I say, pretending I don’t already know the male who fails to impress me every time I see him. “You’re so gorgeous and he’s so plain.”

She laughs. “He is, isn’t he? Though the word I’d use is ugly, but not to his face. You won’t tell him I said that, will you?” she asks, her voice lighter now. She believes me, a testament not to my ability to manipulate, but to her trusting nature.