My daddy. That was him. I stared hard at the photo, memorizing the dimple in one cheek and the way his eyes creased. They both looked happy. She never looked this happy anymore. Momma slid the photo back into the book and tucked it away on the shelf, like she wanted to go back to forgetting. But that was okay. I’d seen his face, and I’d never forget it. I would never forget things that mattered.
There were times when I was medicated that I’d walk into a room and forget why I was there. Many times, I’d have to leave, then turn around, and walk right back in, hoping something would jar my memory or work its way through the sludge of my mind so I could figure out what I needed.
Sometimes it worked, but other times, I ended up sitting on a sofa. I’d watched two other residents play Ping-Pong while I struggled to remember the simple thing I needed to do. The thing was as hard to grasp as advanced calculus.
I hated it. The slow way my brain worked. How everything looked and moved as if underwater, slow and distorted. I would stare at the doctors, unable to put the words they said together in a way that made any sense. And all the time, there would be this pit in my stomach. A nagging feeling that something was just out of reach.
That pit was in my stomach now.
I swung on a swing beneath two big magnolias. Spanish moss hung off the huge oak trees lining our drive. Next to me sat a glass of lemonade, condensation beading on the glass. In my hands, the book I had been reading lay open. Everything I needed was here. Father was in the house with my stepmother and brothers, and I was here.
But the pit in my stomach told me something was missing.
I had forgotten something.
Narrowing my eyes, I stared down the driveway. Was someone arriving today? Was that it?
I tilted my head, listening hard, even though here, in this time, vehicles glided over the earth as soundlessly as birds circled in the sky.
It made my head ache. Reaching up a hand, I dragged my fingers through my hair until I found the raised bump behind my ear. A throb began deep in my head, like it was located in the center of my brain, and then, like waves on the ocean, rippled outward.
Planting my feet on the ground, I pushed to set the swing back into motion.
Behind me, there was a crash, but I didn’t bother turning around. It was almost Christmas, and the house was being decorated for the holiday. Cindra—my stepmother—said it was our duty to put on a good party, and besides, everyone wanted to see our new house.
New, old house. That’s what Father called it.
Alex.
The voice in my head was mine, but the tone was off. Alex? I never called Father by his name. Why would I think that?
I’d been sick for a long time when I got to this time. World weariness. It had a name and lots of travelers got it when they jumped from one time to another. Nearly a month was spent in a recovery unit, moving from one when they seemed unable to help me, to another, sometimes in the dead of night. All of them tried to help me, but I eventually became better on my own.
All that was left of that blurry time were these headaches that came on, and the pit in my stomach.
The wind blew, and I breathed in the fresh air. Most of the blooms had fallen off of the trees and flowers, so the heady perfume scents were gone. I was glad for that.
Footsteps pounded down the steps, and I glanced over my shoulder. “Oh my god!”
Edward, my brother, laughed. The youngest of my three brothers, he was always sneaking up on me, trying to scare me. He wore a horrifying Mardi Gras mask. It had a long, white nose, and black eyebrows drawn over the eye sockets. Our brother emerged from the house a second later, wearing his own mask.
“Have you ever seen these before?” Harris asked. “Do they have them in your time?”
My brothers were curious about where I’d come from and seemed to enjoy shocking me with the technology of their era. It wasn’t mean in any way. They reminded me of guys I’d gone to school with—good-natured and slightly oblivious.
They hadn’t even gotten mad when Father and Bas decided it was best for the family if they leave their home and move here, on the fringes of the city. This house was nearly five hundred years old, one of the oldest standing structures left in this part of New Louisiana.
A royal house, Cinda had called it. With the stately columns and winding double staircase, it was certainly something. The woman was almost vibrating with excitement at the idea of showing it off to her friends. The size of the house made up—I thought—for how far away from civilization it was.
Fredrick came outside, the door creaking on its hinges. Fredrick was the quietest of the brothers. He held up another mask. “Want one?”
Edward and Harris had taken theirs off and flung them onto the seat next to me. I stared at the two masks.
“Well?” he asked, holding it under my nose.
I took it gently, placing it next to the other two. The pit in my stomach grew and grew, until I thought I’d choke.
“Hey,” Fredrick touched my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“We didn’t mean to upset you,” Edward added.
“You didn’t.” I shook my head. They hadn’t done anything wrong. I was just…off. I was always off, and I’d remain that way until I remembered…
No. I shook myself. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten something. I’d been sick. Father told me that. Bas told me that. Cindra told me that. I just needed to heal, and then everything would be better.
I collected the masks. In the waning winter sun, I could see how the white paint was actually yellowed with age. They must be old. I trailed a finger along the outside of one. And they were glass or porcelain. They felt fragile and liable to shatter if I mishandled them.
“Where did you find these?” I asked.
“They’ve been in our family for years. Through each rebellion. Mom just found them. She’s already planning a Mardi Gras party so she can put her masks on display.”
Masks.
A thousand images hit me at once, exploding in front of my eyes. My brain was on fire, the pain overwhelming as memories assailed me.
Masks.
My masks.
I stood up so fast, the masks nearly tumbled from my lap. At the last minute, I caught them, holding gingerly.
“What’s wrong?” Edward asked. He reached for them, taking them from my trembling fingers.
“Nothing.” Everything.
A month had gone by without me remembering the men I’d bonded to me. The ones I loved. The ones who were so embedded into my heart, they’d had to be removed from my DNA in order for me to leave them.
And I had. I’d left them and forgotten them.
Oh my god. What had I done? As much as I was horrified, both at myself and what had been done to me, the pit in my stomach eased like a fist unclenching. At least now I knew.
I left my brothers to hurry into the house. Cindra met me at the double staircase.
“Sugar, you need to get ready.”
She was all done up. Her skin was perfect, highlighted and buffed in a way that seemed totally natural. Pushing fifty, she didn’t appear to be a day over twenty-five.
“My esthetician is waiting for you.” She smoothed her hand over my hair, gaze traveling along my face. Her smile was kind. I liked Cindra, just like I liked my brothers.
But could I trust them?
They were all part of this world. A world where Matthew, Scott, and Robert were seen as less. Not human.
Disposable.
I was flooded with memories. They took up the space I needed to respond, and when she lifted a perfect eyebrow, I shook myself awake.
“Thank you,” I replied, even though I wanted to scream. Run. Do something. I’d been static for a month. Did she know what I was? Would she still be kind if she knew that my mother had been a clone?
I opened my mouth to ask her, but something caught her attention. “Run along,” she told me, dismissing me like I was a child with a pat on my shoulder. “Make yourself beautiful.”<
br />
What I needed was a plan. Yes, I’d forgotten my masks, but I remembered now. Whatever Bas thought he’d done, whatever he’d removed from my body, it didn’t take away what I felt for Robert, Matthew, and Scott.
I’d get through tonight, fool everyone around me, and then I’d get them back.
My resolve lasted all the way through my eyebrow waxing and the doing of my hair. Left to put on my own makeup, I stared in the mirror. I didn’t know that I could actually make it through this night with these people. My father was friends with the oppressors, individuals that he’d once despised so much, he’d run to another time to love my mother and have me.
I was the disaster for the people in charge. My father and I…members of our family and maybe others too…we made the clones fertile. And that made us dangerous. If they knew they could have a life, they might fight harder to have just that.
Pushing my chair back, I made a quick decision. I was getting out of here. But not before I took care of some things on my way out.
I strode to the closet and grabbed the most casual thing I had in there, which proved to be a shiny pair of black pants and a green mock turtleneck. It was sleeveless. I dressed fast and took a long, steadying breath. For the first time in forever, my stomach wasn’t in knots. I knew who I was, and that helped a great deal.
I might fail, but I’d live and die being true to myself. There was power in that.
I hurried down the hall, managing to avoid everyone, which was lucky. Maybe things were finally turning around for me. Maybe the universe was on my side.
Every step I took felt like it was the loudest sound I’d ever heard. I clenched my jaw. There was nothing I could do if I got caught. I’d just lie and try again. But fortunately, no one appeared. Downstairs, the sounds of the staff getting ready for the party consisted of bangs and clinks as food and tables were prepped for the night.
This was my stepmother’s party, but she did no work for it except to look fantastic. That sort of seemed to be her job.
Not much had changed in that regard from the time I grew up in to this one. There were still people whose role in life seemed to be to sit still and smile.
My father was in his study, probably avoiding his bedroom until he was given the all clear to see his wife. He was dressed, which meant he’d done it hours earlier.
I regarded him for a second. The man who had thrown it all away for a clone he loved was absent, his mind erased. But he’d tried to protect me. I wasn’t dead, and even though he hadn’t been there for my reconditioning, perhaps the fact that I was alive at all was thanks to him.
My mother had loved him. Trusted him. Run back in time with him.
Perhaps I wasn’t crazy to give this a shot.
“Dad.”
He looked up from the screen he studied and smiled at me when I entered, setting the tablet down. “You’re risking her fashion wrath if you don’t get dressed soon, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. He called me that so easily, but didn’t really know me at all. Life had seen to that for both of us. Were his responses to me coded in him? Programmed into his DNA by the people who used science to rewrite us? Why did I have my memories when he never did?
“Did you love my mother?”
He blinked rapidly. The words felt weird on my tongue, as though I wasn’t supposed to ask that question. I’d never mentioned my mom to him, not once since I’d been back. Another alteration of neural functions to keep things nice and secure. If I couldn’t talk about her, could barely remember her, the transition to this new normal should be easy on everyone.
It must have been really hard for him to hear what he shouldn’t be hearing. Did it physically cause him pain?
“I… Why are you asking me this?” Deflection seemed exactly right for him to use for my question.
“Because I can remember her. Can you? That she was a clone. That you loved her, despite everything. That I shouldn’t be here, that everyone is hoping that no one ever finds out I’m a hybrid. That they took me from the men I love and brought me here. That you let them because you don’t really remember that you were once that person.” I stepped toward him, slowly. “Do you? Do you remember, Dad?”
Whatever I’d been expecting, what he did was not something I’d anticipated. He jumped to his feet, putting his finger to his mouth in the universal expression for quiet. I widened my eyes and took a step back. He was such a gentle, steady person most of the time. Was he about to get violent?
He walked past me and shut the door to the hall and then closed the window behind me. My heart beat so loudly, I could hear it in my ears. In every scenario I’d pictured, him locking up to kill me hadn’t been one I’d considered.
“I can’t have anyone hear you say that.” He spoke in a low voice. “They’ll hurt you.”
I looked around. “Who would tell?”
“Walls have ears. In a place like this, anywhere in this time, people can be listening through satellites. Not that I can stop that by closing a door or a window, but it makes me feel better. Hopefully, they weren’t right then. You’ve been so good this last month, I’m hoping they moved on.” He shook his head. “How long have you remembered? You seemed to be erased.”
I swallowed. Was he on my side, or was he going to put me back into Bas’ care to mess with my head again? “Just a few minutes. Dad, you can let me go. No one has to know that I’m related to you. Do you understand? There is no need to capture and alter me. No one has to ever know that we are connected.”
He furrowed his brow for a second before realization seemed to dawn in his eyes like a spark going off. “You think I’m going to hurt you. Chaney, that is the last thing I would do. I’m trying to protect you. It’s too late for me, but if you want to go back to your guys, you can do that. I can help you if you want. Give you a little to get by so life will be easier for you, though you won’t live in luxury. I can’t go back to your mother, it’s too late for me. And I have your brothers to care for.” He visibly swallowed. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I don’t understand. You’ve known this whole time. Why do you stay here?”
He touched the side of my face. “I’ve known that I had to do certain things, pretend certain things, to keep you safe. But just the fact that you’ve come to me with this, instead of guarding your knowledge like a bomb waiting to go off, tells me you may not be made for this life. What do you want, Chaney?”
I knew exactly what—no, scratch that, who—I wanted.
It wasn’t a hard choice.
Evidence in my hand, I rushed through the portal my father had set up for me, hoping that no one monitored us, that I might get through this unscathed. I’d miss my father, but not as much as I’d mourn the life I should have with my masks. They’d brought me through space and time because our love was real.
Jolting when I hit the ground, I looked around. I was back where I’d left them, and although a month had passed, the place was a mess, as though it had just been destroyed. I looked around. I hadn’t been here long enough to know where I was going or where…
“Chaney.” Robert’s voice caught my attention, and I swung around in the direction of where it was coming from, my heart in my throat, tears in my eyes. Yes, he was there. And right behind him, Scott and Matthew.
They rushed toward me, grabbing on to and spinning me around before he caught me in his arms. “How?”
I laughed. Thank goodness. Part of me had wondered if this would work. If my father told the truth. “Such a long story. But none of it matters. We’re together.”
I was passed from Robert, to Matthew, to Scott. Each one of them holding me. I breathed them in. They were okay.
“My father—he’s not coming for me. He’s let me go.” A lump formed in my throat, but it was a good hurt. We’d come to an understanding, and the masks and I could get on with our lives.
Robert took my cheeks in his hands. “Are you certain? We’d go anywhere for you, Chaney. Anywhere in time and space. We’d do
anything for you. Just tell us, and we’re there.”
This was a rough, mean world. But I had my masks, and now I had my freedom. I held up the bag my father handed me on my way out of his house. “He said this would help get us started. A little bit of luxury.”
“I think those were called dowries in your time,” Scott joked. He was smiling, though his eyes shone like he was trying to hold back tears. “But your worth is immeasurable.”
“We thought you were dead. Or that we’d never see you again.” Matthew kissed both my cheeks before Scott ran his hands through my hair.
I could feel my body relaxing. These were my men. I needed them forever. I’d come through time to find my masks. Nothing would keep me from them again.
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Tricked
Mila Young
About Tricked
Long lost secrets. A deadly legacy. Let the hunt begin.
What better way to celebrate Rain Crispin’s eighteenth birthday than her first ever invite to a Harvest celebration? Decked out as an elf princess since fantasy characters are a must, she sets out to have the time of her life. But when midnight strikes… something strange happens to her body. She doesn’t feel like herself anymore. To make matters worse, a horde of bloodthirsty orcs want her and the night takes a deadly twist.
Evading her pursuers, she races home, only to find three strange men waiting in her house. Sure, they’re handsome, muscular men… But what do they want?
It seems Rain’s eighteenth birthday has unleashed a deadly legacy with her name all over it. Time is running out and she must work out who she can trust. Except she can’t help but feel she’s somehow being tricked.
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 9
