The Last of the Pure

Eighteen

I don’t know what I was expecting Lucas to be like exactly. Slightly demonic and terrifying I guess is the description I would have thought myself most likely to use upon meeting him, but here I was with the man, and it didn’t seem to fit at all.

He was charming.

His smile the kind that made you smile when he glanced at you. His eyes were much like mine with a harsher edge, but they were still inviting.

I knew I couldn’t trust him, but after not even an hour with him, I found myself relaxing in his presence.

“So you’re in your final year of school?” he asked. We’d been walking down a small path outside of the back of the house, talking casually for over half an hour and Lucas had yet to bring up what he wanted with me. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to get to know me or if he was trying to avoid the topic, but I went with it, terrified of any kind of punishment they had to give if I wasn’t cooperative.

I nodded and Lucas proceeded to ask me about the schools I’d been to before, about the places I’d lived before Glen Rose, and how school was treating me now.

“I’m not the most social person,” I shrugged which made him grin from ear to ear. “I don’t really make a lot of friends.”

“I would never have guessed that of you,” he told me. “You have the most endearing personality.”

I couldn’t be sure whether or not I should be offended by that, so I didn’t respond. We continued walking in silence for a few more moments before Lucas began on the next string of questioning.

I told him how I like to sing and how I’d taken piano lessons as a kid. I told him about the sixth grade musical I’d starred in and how I was so nervous the entire time I was onstage that I never auditioned for anything again.

He asked about my childhood, about my interests, just basic questions about me that led up to the whole reason I was here.

“You’re very different than anyone expected, Alexandra,” Lucas said once I’d finished the story of the time Samuel gave me a demonstration of the way his thought placement works—he had me thoroughly convinced that the set of keys I’d just set on the counter had been left in the mailbox, I must have flipped it open ten times, positive they were there despite the fact that I’d just seen them.

“That seems to be the general consensus,” I said, having heard that from nearly everyone by that point. Everyone’s reasoning seemed to differ, but I felt like they were all expecting me to be some kind of tyrant.

“We want you to join us here,” he said. He’d stopped walking to face me then, but I remembered not to look directly in his eyes as I felt them boring into me. “The way that you fight at such a young age—it’s unheard of. You’ve got this certain something about you, Alexandra, that—daughter or not—I have to admire.”

I couldn’t think of a way to politely say, “Hell no, you maniac,” and being rude seemed like something that would get me tossed back into the dungeon, chained back to my pole, and signed up for another searing.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew this was why I was here, that or to be killed, but after the first sixteen hours I realized that wasn’t an immediate option.

“It doesn’t seem like I’m really being given a choice,” I said, keeping my voice as strong as I possibly could.

“For now, you’re being given a choice,” Lucas said simply, a cruel grin taking over his face before he turned back toward the path and continued to walk along. I followed silently beside him, waiting for the ‘but’ I could feel coming on. “I’m sure you know of my gifts by now and while compulsion isn’t my first choice, I want you here. I want you fighting alongside your father and your future mate, even if that isn’t your initial choice.”