That part lands differently. He says it like it’s fact. Like it’s something he’s seen.
“How many?” I ask.
“In Redwood Crossing?”
“Yes.”
“Most of the town,” he says.
I blink.
“Most.”
“Yes.”
My gaze drifts toward the front windows, toward the street I’ve been walking up and down for days now. The café owner who always remembers orders. The older man who bought the stack of books for his wife. The teenagers who hung around the graphic novels.
“You’re telling me all of them?—”
“Not all,” he interrupts. “But enough.”
A chill slides through me.
“Delilah,” I say slowly.
He nods once. Of course. That explains… a lot, actually. The way she talks. The way sheknowsthings.
“Conrad?” I press.
“Yes.”
“Mason?”
“Yes.”
I let out a breath that turns into a short laugh. “Wow. Okay. Sure. Why not. Whole town’s a secret supernatural society. Totally normal.”
“Tessa—”
“No, I’m fine,” I say quickly, holding up a hand at the same time my head drops between my knees. “I just need a second to recalibrate my entire understanding of reality.”
He goes quiet, letting me have it. Good. Because if he tried to interrupt me right now, I might actually scream. I stand up and start pacing, my thoughts racing to catch up with everything he’s just dropped on me.
“Okay,” I mutter. “Okay. That explains the strength. The speed. The… fighting.”
My mind flashes back to the alley. The way he moved. The way the other man moved.
Not human. Definitely not human. I stop pacing. Turn back to him.
“And you,” I say, narrowing my eyes slightly. “You’re a tiger.”
He holds my gaze.
“Yes,” he says.
I blink.
“Okay.”
