by Kelly Meding
“It’s a kick in the head, isn’t it?” he said, almost to himself. “Finding out how much you mean to someone, only they don’t remember a single thing about you.”
“I’m sorry.” It felt like the right thing to say, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. Had I?
“Your bargain helped us save a lot of lives, Shiloh. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Maybe not, but I can blame myself for all of the grief you’re feeling over this. You lost something, too.” Supposedly. But why lie about our shared past? If this guy really did know me, he knew I hated liars, so he had to be telling the truth.
This entire situation was a frustrating mind-fuck, and I really needed to get out of this room before I did unleash the Quarrel.
He didn’t say anything, apparently preferring to stare at me like a kicked puppy. I had the oddest urge to hug him and tell him it would all work out. But I didn’t make it a habit of hugging perfect strangers—even ones who insisted we had six years of forgotten history. He stared until I got uncomfortable.
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked.
Jaxon shook himself out of whatever deep thought had caught him. “We’re free to go. I thought you’d like a ride.”
“Home?”
“Well, no, you’ve never told me where you live. I don’t think you told anyone except Julius. I meant headquarters.”
“You know where HQ is?” Okay, stupid question. “Sorry, of course you must know. Um, you’re not going to pepper me with questions the whole way, are you?”
His lips twitched. Was that a smile? “No, but I’ll answer any you might have. And we won’t be alone. Novak is coming back. His hands are still healing from the saltwater bath they got, and he needs a little help.”
“Not that he’d ever admit it.”
“Exactly. Elspeth is here, too, and she wants to stay close. I think she likes being able to mother us all a little bit.”
“My mom’s here?” More than anything else, I wanted to see her. To talk to her and get a nice, big Mom Hug. I’d dragged her into this investigation, nearly gotten her killed, and she’d still hung around to tend our wounds and lend a hand. Maybe she could help me figure out this whole Jaxon thing. She’d be totally frank with me about anything I asked.
“She’s waiting downstairs. She’s been raising hell, demanding she see you.”
“She’s like that. Fiery when she wants something.”
“I remember.” His eyebrows knit together. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. I suppose using words like remember feels weird. I’m not trying to insult you or anything.”
I raised both shoulders in a shrug. “I know that. I’m not going to suddenly get all sensitive about the word remember.”
“Okay.” He angled his body and indicated the door. “After you.”
I didn’t like him on my six, because I didn’t have a clue who he was, no matter what anyone else said. And it bugged me that I couldn’t get any sort of real read on the guy. Even when I spoke with perfect strangers, I could glean something about them by their words, body language, et cetera . . . but not Jaxon. If a sidhe really had taken my memories of him, it could be a side effect of her magic—and that was still a big blessed if.
I squared my shoulders and left the room first. We were in a government building, so it wasn’t like he could try anything. Or maybe he could. I had no idea what his Para status was. I strode down a sterile corridor, past other interrogation rooms, to an elevator. In no mood to wait, I took the stairs.
We came out on the first floor in a wide lobby with a scattering of uncomfortable-looking chairs and fake potted plants. Two suited marshals, including Keene, were standing to the side with Novak and my mother, and no one in the group looked happy.
Mom spotted me first. “Shiloh, honey.”
She met me halfway, and I didn’t care that I was in a building full of colleagues. My mom was here, alive and well, and I was so glad to see her and be out of that awful interrogation room. I let her pull me into a solid hug. Her heart beat wildly against mine, and her hands seemed to be everywhere, testing for injury, reassuring herself that I was real.
“Are you all right?” she asked when she decided to let me breathe better.
“I am now,” I replied. “Starving, but otherwise fine. You?”
She took a shuddering breath. “This is exactly what I needed. I heard what happened on that farm, and I needed to see for myself that you’re okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Elspeth Ann Juno was in full-on mothering mode.
“Mom, I’m okay, I swear. I would kill for a nice rare steak, though.” I winced at my own words, because they made her flinch. I’m an unapologetic carnivore from way back, but I usually went for medium. The whole rare thing was probably a lasting side effect of having drunk Tennyson’s blood twice in the last week in order to, you know, not die. The bloodlust wasn’t fun, but it also wasn’t fatal. I did miss Tennyson’s presence, though, which was somewhat alarming.
“I could eat, too,” Novak said.
I pulled away from Mom and approached Novak. The fallen incubus among us was a shadow of himself. Six-two, built like a professional linebacker, and gorgeous as sin, Novak had been created to seduce men and women into giving up their souls to Hell. Even when he’d fallen into disgrace and was banished from Hell, he maintained a virility and sex appeal to match even the most popular male movie star. But something had changed after he was imprisoned and tortured on that farm. He seemed distant, almost exhausted. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him yawn, much less be anything except ready for sex or battle. Now, though—he looked done.
“Hey, hot stuff,” I said.
His lips flattened out in his best impersonation of a smile. “Hey, kiddo. You really good, or you putting on a front?”
“I’m really okay, but I’ll be better once we’re out of here.” I glanced down at his hands, which were both encased in elbow-length leather gloves. “You?”
“Nothing good food and a lotta sex won’t cure.”
He was lying. I didn’t push, though, not in front of the others. There’d be time to talk later.
But it was then I noticed that not included with the “others” right now was someone I really needed to talk to as well. “Where’s Vincent?”
“He was released from their on-site clinic a few hours ago,” Mom said. “They had to give him a transfusion for the blood loss.”
Because Kathleen, our dhampir ex-partner, had drained him to unconsciousness so he wouldn’t fuss about being locked up in a closet. “But he’s all right?”
“Physically, he’s fine. We spoke briefly.” Mom’s smile was forced. I did not like that at all. “He needs a little time to absorb everything.”
My heart shriveled into a little ball. “He’s dumping me, isn’t he?”
“He didn’t say that.”
“He doesn’t have to.” I ran both hands through my tangled, grimy hair that really needed a shampoo or six. “I never told him what I did for a living, or what I really am. He’s a construction worker, Mom. This isn’t his world.”
“Give him some time, Shi. He might surprise you.”
“Did he at least leave a message for me?”
Mom shook her head no.
Bless it all. Hearing that Vincent had left without a word hurt. Hurt more than I thought it would, considering our relationship had never been serious. We hung out, we had great sex, and then we both went to our jobs. Except the last voice mail Vincent left said he wanted to take things to the next level. He wanted things to be serious between us. Pretty sure he didn’t mean “kidnapped and held hostage in a closet by a Para double agent” serious.
So much for that fantasy.
“Your suspension will officially be lifted tomorrow,” Agent Keene said, an unwelcome voice in our business. He had a snooty air about him that seemed to suggest the Para-Marshals were more trouble than we were worth. “But you
are all on mandatory leave for the next seven days. Your knowledge interface matrix will not be given any new assignments until that time.”
Oh great, a forced vacation. Maybe I could use it to wash my hair and pretend my personal and professional lives hadn’t just imploded.
“Thank you,” Jaxon said. Heavy dose of sarcasm for the win. I could like this guy.
Keene and the other two marshals left the lobby, not bothering to respond. My group angled toward the doors.
“Wait a second,” I said. “I’m still playing catch-up here. What happened to Kathleen and Tennyson?”
Jaxon and Novak shared a look. A look I didn’t like.
“Kathleen is being placed under arrest until they can figure out who she works for,” Jaxon replied. “Same with Lars.” Lars Patterson had been a West Coast Para-Marshal, apparently planted in Weller’s group by the same shadow agency as Kathleen, and he’d jumped at the chance to get deeper into Weller’s back pocket by faking his death and working on the necromancer project. Lars had copped to being the one to help torture a now-dead Master vampire named Piotr into giving up the secrets of necrotic magic. Kathleen . . . well, she’d lied to us all.
She’d also worked by our sides and saved our lives countless times. Yet . . .
“Makes sense,” I said. Even though it meant we were another person down in our squad. “Tennyson?”
A muscle under Jaxon’s left eye twitched. Not a fan of the Master vampire? “Tennyson is still being detained while the Marshals’ Office works with Delaware law enforcement to figure out what to do with him. He’s taken full responsibility for what happened at Myrtle’s Acres, and the members of his line have been released into Drayden’s care.”
Drayden was Tennyson’s second-in-command. He’d take care of Tennyson’s people while he was detained. But something didn’t make sense.
“Vampires govern themselves,” I said. “The police don’t have the authority to punish him.”
“No, but the Marshals’ Office does. They’re weighing his help in unmasking Weller and the necromancer against one hundred and twenty counts of kidnapping.”
Ouch. “You don’t have to sound so eager for them to lock him up.”
“I’m not.” Jaxon flashed me an impatient look. “I don’t like him, but he did save my life.”
“He did?”
Jaxon’s impatience melted into sadness. “Yeah,” he said, then turned and stalked toward the exit.
I glanced at Mom, who smiled sadly, and the three of us followed Jaxon to the car. This was already going to be a very strange suspension, and I still hadn’t told anyone that a moon witch had reached out to me for help via an astral plane.
I kept it to myself for now. Nothing was more important than a hot shower at our headquarters so I could feel half human again. Then we were all going to sit down for a nice, long chat about how to find those missing werewolves.
Chapter 2
Even though all four of us wanted to get home and relax—plus a long, hot shower for me to remove three days’ worth of grime that couldn’t be washed off in a bathroom sink—my stomach started rumbling loudly enough to annoy Novak, who demanded we stop for food. Jaxon swung the car through a drive-thru, and I had to try and sate my hunger for a nice bloody steak on a pair of overcooked double-cheeseburgers.
Novak had trouble holding his sandwich with his mangled hands, which made a mess no one commented on. Mom picked at a salad in the shotgun seat, and Jaxon ate a chicken sandwich with one hand while he drove down the highway as fast as he probably dared. No one spoke, and maybe I didn’t remember how Jaxon fit into my life, but I knew that uncomfortable silences were not the norm for our crew.
Then again, nothing was the same as it had been a week ago. Julius was dead. Kathleen was a double agent. Jaxon was a stranger to me. The person I wanted to talk to most right now was a vampire, and he was under arrest. And my boyfriend was likely preparing a polite way to dump me.
After finishing my burgers, I borrowed Mom’s phone. Used an app to find Vincent’s number, because who memorized phone numbers anymore? Voice mail. “It’s me, and this is a safe phone to call. We need to talk. Please.”
Simple and to the point. Ball was in his court now.
We had a nice little compound in eastern Maryland built out of what had once been a housing development. High perimeter fencing now surrounded open land, as well as an invisible magic fence inside that. It unnerved me to see Jaxon punch the security code into the front gate; it also helped me accept that this wasn’t some elaborate prank, because Novak would never breach security protocols.
Late afternoon shadows streaked across the yard and driveway, and something on the poured concrete caught my attention: a long line of scattered black splotches that led up to the front porch, like an oil leak, but some of those same specks were on the steps.
“Shi?” Mom asked. “Something wrong?”
“What’s that?” I pointed at the droplets.
She glanced at Jaxon, who was watching us from the front door, still with that same wounded puppy look on his face. “It’s blood,” Mom replied finally.
“From the other night? When Tennyson and I fought those vamps at the gate?” Three nights ago, Tennyson and I had been returning from an interrogation mission, only to find six necromancer-controlled vampires waiting for us. They wanted the Master vampire we were keeping chained up in our basement, I said no, and things got rough. Tennyson had run reconnaissance to see if the necro was close by, and I’d fought all six alone . . . except that felt wrong.
It’s how I remembered the fight, but even I wasn’t stupid enough to take on six vamps by myself.
“It is from that night,” Mom said with some hesitation in her voice.
Novak hadn’t been there for that battle, but he also didn’t seem surprised. Someone must have filled him in on events while he was busy being held captive.
“We were both wounded in that fight,” Jaxon said quietly. “We both bled. There simply hasn’t been time to clean anything.”
Something told me there was more to it than that, but I let it go for now—I felt bad enough for downplaying his involvement (even though I still couldn’t find it in myself to believe it). We all shuffled inside, and I made a beeline for the stairs and the second-floor bathroom. I got naked, deciding in the moment that I was going to burn the clothes I was wearing. The hot water felt amazing, and I took my time cleaning up. Even braided my hair so it stayed out of my face.
I didn’t live at the HQ full-time, but we each had a bedroom we preferred to use in case of overnights or naps. Mine had several extra changes of clothes, some personal items, and a nice, soft bed. A bed that beckoned me to face-plant on it right away. Sleeping in interrogation rooms is next to impossible, and I was running on fumes, despite the food.
Sleeping felt like cheating, though, when we hadn’t really talked about anything as a group. I still needed to fill them in about Chandra’s plea for help, and I really wanted to speak with Tennyson. Since only one of those two things was actually doable in the near future, I hauled my tired ass downstairs. After that, I could finally get some rest.
The spicy aroma of meat and chili pepper perked me up the instant my feet hit the ground floor. Everyone was in the kitchen, huddled around the island. Mom was stirring a pot of what had to be chili, probably from the freezer, and Novak was practically salivating, despite having eaten a burger and fries not long ago.
He caught me staring and grunted. “What? Food and sex help me heal faster. I’m too blessed exhausted to go looking for tail, so unless someone here wants to help . . .”
“Eat away,” I said. “Mom loves to cook.”
And there’s no way I’m having sex with you, I left unsaid.
“Yes, she does,” Mom replied, tossing me a quick smile over her shoulder. “But don’t get used to it. Once things settle down here, I have a life to get back to.”
“I’m sorry we dragged you into this mess, Elspeth,” Jaxon said.
He was snacking on a can of peanuts, tossing each one into the air and catching it in his mouth with ease.
I caught myself before asking how he dragged my mom into anything. Someone needed to write down the alternate timeline of events that I no longer remembered, so I could fill in some blanks. Blanks specific to Jaxon’s supposed involvement in, oh, the last six years of my life.
For example: if he was the person I loved most, why weren’t we together? Or were we actually together, and he was just being super polite about it, because I didn’t know him anymore?
This was going to take some time.
“No one dragged me into anything,” Mom said. “My daughter asked for help, and I agreed. No one can force me to do something I don’t want to do.”
“Hashtag truth,” I said.
Jaxon chuckled. “I’m not sure if you were agreeing with her, or declaring your own stubborn nature to people who know exactly how stubborn you are.” His easygoing grin melted into a sad frown. “Sorry.”
“For what? Reminding me I don’t know you? Dude, you sitting on that stool reminds me every single second.”
The kitchen was quiet. Jaxon looked down, and I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Seemed about right.
“I never properly thanked you, kiddo,” Novak said quietly, his dark eyes fixed on the countertop. “You saved my life, and you gave up a big thing to do it.”
“Oh . . .” Was that what I’d sacrificed my memories of this other guy for? My throat closed under the onslaught of emotion, probably due to stress and lack of sleep. I kissed his cheek. “You’re lucky I like you, demon.”
Mom plunked a giant steaming bowl of chili in front of Novak, effectively ending the incubus’s rare display of vulnerability. She helped him get a good hold of a long-handled serving spoon with one of his glove-covered hands, so he could eat without making a huge mess. I accepted a smaller bowl for myself, tantalized by the red, meaty goodness.
Jaxon ate some, too, and I caught him glancing at me almost constantly, which was incredibly unsettling. Less like he was trying to figure me out and more like he was making sure I hadn’t disappeared on him—not that I could because I hadn’t inherited my dad’s ability to teleport. He was also still wearing his hat inside, and for some reason, that was really annoying.
