Keira wrapped her hands around her cardboard cup and inhaled deeply as she returned to the outdoors.
Mason nodded toward the fountain. “Want to sit for a minute?”
The stone ledge surrounding the feature was still cold, even though they settled on the sunny side. Keira hadn’t been close enough to see the fountain clearly before, and she couldn’t help but gawk. It was a bizarre sculpture: cherubic toddlers with fish tails frolicked up Grecian pillars. Every few meters, an openmouthed gargoyle vomited water into the basin below. The spectacle was topped with a crossbow-toting centaur endowed with one of the largest noses she’d ever seen.
“What do you think?” Mason watched her with open amusement.
She shook her head. “It’s… Wow. There’s something for everyone, huh?”
“It was made by Perrault, a well-known local sculptor. He wasn’t acclaimed, mind. Just…well-known.”
Keira snickered and turned back to her drink. From her seat, they could see down both main roads and watch the townspeople hurry about their lives. The water gurgled behind them, the relaxing sound blending into the noises emitted from the various stores. Mason sat close, and she could almost feel the happiness radiating from him. He seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood, which made her news all the more difficult to share.
Putting it off will only make it harder. Keira scuffed her feet over the ground as she tried to find a pleasant way to phrase the announcement. Knock, knock! Who’s there? Not me. I’m outta this place!
“Keira? Everything okay?”
“Sure.” She held her smile but couldn’t look at him. “Adage found me a job and a place to stay. In Glendale.”
Mason didn’t reply for a moment. When he spoke, his voice had lost its bright tone. “That’s fast.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
Warm fingers brushed her cheek, then slipped under her chin. He very gently turned her head until she could no longer avoid looking at him. Worry clouded his face. His eyebrows pulled together, and his angular cheeks appeared even more prominent without the familiar grin softening them. “You look so sad.”
Smile, Keira. She fought to keep her voice from cracking. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? It’s not like I’ve lived in Blighty my whole life or anything. I’m sure Glendale is a great town. I just…”
His mouth twitched, and his eyebrows tugged even closer together. “Tell Adage you want to stay.”
She carefully pulled free from his fingers. He let her go, but his thumb grazed her jaw before it withdrew. Keira steeled herself, then said, “I don’t want to do that. He’s already given me so much. I’d be the world’s most entitled jerk to ask for more. Besides, he says Blighty is a closed town when it comes to jobs. No one would hire me, and I can’t live for long without an income.”
Mason turned aside, seeming agitated. His fingers drummed against the fountain’s stone bench as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. “I have a spare room you’re welcome to. And I’ll help you find a local job. People here like me. They’ll hire you if I put in a good word.”
Keira chuckled as she patted his arm. “It’s okay, Mason. I really, really appreciate it, but you don’t have to fix every problem in the world. Besides, you yourself said it would be safer if I had some distance between myself and Blighty, just in case those men are still looking for me. And…maybe it’ll be healthy for me to stretch a little. Adage found me a good, honest job. I’ll probably like it. Who knows? I might even love it.”
He lapsed into silence for several long minutes, though his fingers continued their restless tapping. When Keira glanced at him, his gaze was distant. He seemed to be thinking something through, so she gave him time. Eventually, he inhaled and turned back to her. Though it had lost its carefree ease, his smile was back in place, and his voice was no longer tight. “Glendale’s only…what? Six hours away? I’ll come and visit sometimes.”
“No, you don’t have to do that.”
“Course I do. I keep telling you I have too much time on my hands.” At last, the fingers stopped drumming. He picked up his cup but didn’t drink from it. “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
He blew a breath out. “Wow. Okay. I’ll come and see you off at the station. Need any help packing?”
This time, when she laughed, it didn’t even hurt. “Thanks, but I’ll take care of it. Though I’m not sure how I’ll fit all two pairs of pants into my travel case.”
“Ha, fair enough.”
“But there is something you could help me with.”
“Yeah?” He tilted his head to one side, and Keira’s chest ached at the sight. No matter where she went, she doubted anyone would be able to replicate that motion quite so well.
“I need a home for Daisy. Somewhere that will take good care of her. You still like cats, right?”
“Sure do. Leave her with me; she’ll be treated like a queen.”
“Thank you. That’s a weight off my mind.” Keira took a sip from her cup and discovered she did, in fact, hate coffee. She pulled a face, and Mason’s amusement was evident.
“Don’t like it?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Here, let’s swap.” He took her cup out of her hand and replaced it with his own before she could object. He swirled the drink for a moment, his eyes thoughtful, then said, “Can I ask an odd question?”
“Go for it.”
“What’s your favorite dinosaur?”
“Huh. I don’t know.” Keira put her head back as she thought. “Guess I’d have to go with the velociraptor. The claws are pretty cool.”
“Did you learn about them through a movie or a book?”
“No…not that I remember anyway.”
“Hmm.” Mason gave her a searching look, and Keira lifted her eyebrows.
“I’m guessing you prefer the T-rex?”
“Ha! No, just…trying to puzzle something out. I don’t think your memory loss is a typical case. I wasn’t sure whether I should say something, but…well, if you’re leaving, you’d better know now.”
Keira sat a little straighter. Mason’s expression suggested he didn’t have good news, so she waited quietly for him to collect his thoughts.
“There are basically two types of learning,” he said at last, and he put his cup aside. “Implicit and declarative. Implicit is for things that become subconscious or muscle memory, such as walking or playing the piano or being able to speak. Declarative is more focused on conscious learning, like remembering the queen’s name or movie plots or your friends’ faces.
“When someone suffers from memory loss, they usually lose the declarative but retain most of the implicit—an artist could forget his wife but still be able to paint. I thought this was what had happened to you. You seem generally healthy and mentally sound; you just can’t remember anything. But strangely, you seemed to have retained certain declarative memories as well.”
“Ah, like the velociraptors?”
“Exactly.” Mason rubbed at the back of his neck. “You remember the dinosaur, but not when or how you learned about it. Correct me if I’m off mark here, but it seems like the only part of your memory that’s been damaged is the part that relates to you: your experiences, your opinions, your identity.”
Keira stared at the ground. She dug through her mind again, searching for stray memories. Knowing what to look for, she realized she actually had retained a swath of knowledge. She’d known what Zoe had meant when she’d referred to James Bond. She could remember that the sun went down in the west. Mason’s hair color reminded her of chocolate. But she didn’t know what chocolate tasted like. She couldn’t remember ever seeing the sun set. She didn’t know which James Bond movies she’d watched or whether she’d enjoyed them. It was unnerving, and she put aside her cup so she could wrap her arms around her torso defensively. “What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. I researched it late through last night, but I couldn’t find any compara
ble cases. Generally, patients either lose all of their memories or just a segment of time. I’ve never heard of a case where an identity is erased but the rest is left untouched. It’s bizarre.”
Keira scowled at the stone path surrounding the fountain. “Just once, it might be nice to be normal.”
“Hey.” Mason’s knuckle nudged the underside of her chin, bringing her attention back to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Like I said the other day, we still don’t fully understand how memories are stored. This could be a normal, albeit extremely uncommon, variation.” His eyes seemed to darken a fraction. “I just wish I could do more to help. This can’t be pleasant for you.”
Keira deliberately relaxed her pose. “It’s not that bad, actually. I can’t miss what I don’t remember. And you and Zoe have been amazingly kind; I never expected to feel so welcomed here.”
“Zoe’s going to miss you like crazy. Most people don’t have time for her or her theories, and I know she’s started thinking of you as her friend.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I guess all three of us were looking for some kind of friendship.”
Keira snorted. “No, I don’t believe that about you for a second, Mr. Congeniality. You said it yourself: this town loves you.”
“You’d be surprised. I’ve been feeling lost since I came back from med school. I was gone for nearly four years. Most of my friends have moved away, and the only one who’s still here has changed so much that it’s hard to recognize him. You’re right—people do like me, but in a detached, he’s-a-good-kid sort of way. There’s no one I can really talk to. Meeting you was like…like…” His gaze became distant for a moment, but then he clapped his hands on his knees, his expression as good-natured as always. “Talking about Zoe, have you told her you’re leaving?”
“Not yet.”
Mason rose to his feet. “C’mon, I’ll go with you. She’ll be less likely to collapse into an inconsolable mess if there’s a crowd.”
Keira choked out a laugh and stood. “Thanks, Mason. For everything.”
“Pfft.” He was trying to appear nonchalant, but she was relieved to see some of the joy had returned to his eyes.
The general store was on the corner closest to them. Keira was only partway across the road when her subconscious registered that something was wrong. The store’s lights were on but it seemed deserted. No one stood at the checkout, and Zoe was nowhere to be seen.
Mason hadn’t noticed. He was watching a group of children chasing each other near the fountain. She tapped his arm to bring him to a halt and nodded toward the window.
It took him a second to register what was wrong, then his expression darkened. A faint, nasally voice made its way through the plated glass, too muffled for the words to be recognizable.
“Stay here,” Mason said, pushing through the door.
Something in his tone unsettled Keira. She lightened her footsteps as she followed him inside. Instinct told her to keep to the shadows, so she did, ghosting along the edges of the shelves.
The voice sounded clearer inside the store. It seemed to be coming from near the freezer section at the back, and its familiar, sneering cadence sent disgust writhing through her stomach.
“Honestly, I feel bad for her. The rest of her kids are overseas, right? The only support she has left is you, her least favorite. It would almost be less stressful to go through treatment alone.”
Keira slipped past Mason and looked around the shelf. Partway down the aisle, leaning against the chiller unit and casually examining a carton of orange juice, stood the well-dressed man who’d bumped into Keira the previous day. His glossy, styled blond hair obscured his face, but she could easily picture his contemptuous expression and pale-blue eyes.
Just beyond him, Zoe’s face was twisted into a mask of hatred. Her fingers were clenched into fists at her sides, and veins stood out on her neck. She kept her eyes resolutely on the floor, but they were swimming, the moisture threatening to tumble out and drag tracks of black mascara with it.
“Though I’m sure they’ll come back for the funeral,” the man said, flipping the carton around to read the ingredients. “So you can look forward to that pretty little family reunion within the next six months. That’s how long Dad says she’ll last. Oh, does this have added sugar? How trashy.”
He tossed the carton aside. It exploded as it hit the floor, spraying orange juice across the tiles and the lowest shelves. Zoe flinched.
“Gavin.” Mason moved from behind the shelf, startling Keira. His voice, normally cheerful, had become deep and cold. He seemed to gain extra inches to tower over the other man as he moved to stand beside Zoe. “Pay for that juice and leave.”
Keira slipped forward to stand at Zoe’s other side. Zoe looked startled, but her expression had lost the awful, helpless anger. Keira took her hand and squeezed.
Gavin took half a step back and flicked his bangs as his eyes darted over them. He clearly hadn’t expected company, but he recovered his smirk quickly and directed it toward Mason. “Oh, you’re still hanging around town? I thought you’d moved on already.” His eyes slid toward Keira, and his smile grew. “And our town’s newest recluse. How charming. She looks like a frightened little mouse.”
Mason shifted forward to block Gavin’s view. “I mean it,” he said. “You have until I count to five to get out of here.”
“What happens if I don’t?” Gavin leaned forward, his expression darkening. “You gonna fight me, Corr? See if I don’t drag you through court for assault. Then you’d never get to be a doctor, not that you deserve the title anyway.”
Mason’s voice held a deep, dangerous rumble. “One. Two. Three—”
Gavin stepped back and raised his hands. “Whatever. You’re not worth my time. I’m going. Have fun playing with your reject buddies. I hope they make you feel better about how much of a disappointment you turned out to be.”
Mason snorted as he turned toward Zoe and Keira. “Better than yours. At least my father didn’t need to bribe my way into college.”
Gavin’s retreat came to a sharp halt.
Mason, unconcerned, focused his attention on Zoe and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You okay?”
Keira kept her eyes on Gavin. The tense, anxious sensation she’d felt when she first met him prickled at her skin, and her instincts screamed for her to be wary—he was no longer a null threat. Gavin glared at Mason’s back. A muscle jumped in his throat, and blotches of color stained his cheeks. Something moved behind his eyes: a decision being formed. One hand twitched. A small, shiny-silver object appeared in it.
Knife. Keira’s pulse kicked up. Mason had his back to Gavin. He wouldn’t be able to move in time. Gavin was already stepping forward, hand rising to slice the blade across Mason’s shoulders—
She responded on instinct. One hand smacked into Gavin’s outstretched wrist, redirecting the knife toward the boxes of cereal on the shelf. Her other hand came up and stabbed into his neck, crushing his windpipe. Her knee connected with his stomach. He gagged and keened forward. With his balance thrown off, it was all too easy to sweep her leg behind his and send him crashing to the ground.
He landed in the spilled orange juice with a wet, smacking sound. The knife bounced off the cereal and clattered to the floor. Boxes of cornflakes tumbled from the shelf to scatter around him.
Keira took a reflexive step back to keep herself out of his reach, but her opponent was helpless. He curled into a fetal position, one hand clasped around his throat and the other to his stomach as he pulled in whimpering breaths.
The shop was perfectly silent. Mason looked from Gavin to the knife to Keira. With a faint note of surprise tinging his voice, he simply said, “Oh.”
Zoe, meanwhile, grabbed Keira’s arm. Her owl-like eyes were still rimmed red but had widened in awe. Color flooded into her face as she grinned. “Freaking. Amazing.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gavin lay curled into a ball, his expensive shirt soaking up the ora
nge juice he’d spilled, moaning as he writhed between boxes of cornflakes.
Keira swayed. Taking down Gavin had brought back the thick, sickening emotions from her first encounter with him. Her hands felt dirty, like they were caked in tacky oil residue. Her mind buzzed, warning bells chiming, and it was a challenge to breathe deeply enough.
Mason put a hand on Keira’s shoulder to steady her and cleared his throat. “Hey, Zo? The store has a back room, right? It might be an idea to get away from here for a minute.”
She blinked, then beckoned. “Yeah, of course, this way.”
They slipped through a small metal door at the back of the store, and Keira only let herself breathe more deeply once it had closed behind them. The back room turned out to be a small, dim office space. The single bulb hanging from the ceiling was enough to illuminate two desks and stacks of boxes packed along the wall. Mason pulled a folding chair out from the desk and placed it next to Keira, nodding for her to sit.
He carried a package of chocolate cookies under him arm; he must have grabbed them on the trip through the store without Keira noticing. He tore open one end and shook two out, which he placed on the desk beside Keira.
“For the shock,” he explained.
“I’m okay.” Her hands were shaking. She forcefully tucked them into her pockets so they wouldn’t make a liar of her.
Mason held the cookie package to Zoe, but she waved them away. She was pacing, bouncing on the soles of her feet every time she had to turn in the narrow space, and her broad grin bordered on manic. “Ho-lee flipping heck. You destroyed him.”
“Sorry,” Keira managed.
“Are you kidding?” Zoe batted away the cookies a second time. “Highlight of my year. You’re paying for those by the way.” That last comment was directed at Mason, who resolutely shook the sweet treats at her.
He reluctantly gave up on Zoe and instead nudged the cookies closer to Keira. She caved, removing a hand from her pocket to accept the offering. “What happened back there… I didn’t know I could do that.”
The Whispering Dead: Gravekeeper Book 1 Page 15
