by C. I. Black
The cold in her gut flared. Just a meeting with Ophelia endangered him. She’d read Ivy’s thoughts and know everything.
“You have to know,” Grey said. “We can’t afford to be separated when we break into the museum.” He kicked off his boots and headed through the bedroom and into the bathroom. “Here’s the truth. My magic is stronger than my will and I struggle to stay in the present. I swore myself into the Handmaiden’s service because she promised to help me.”
Ivy followed but stopped at the bathroom’s doorway, even though the room was large enough for two. More than large enough, with pale marble countertops and gleaming white tiles on the floor, around the multi-person tub, and in the massive glassed-in shower — so big it didn’t have a door, just an opening between the tiled walls and the glass panels. If she drew closer, she risked saying her power word and succumbing to the need clawing through her. “So the Handmaiden—?”
He shrugged out of his coat and pulled off his ruined T-shirt, revealing a sculpted muscular chest and abs. Memory fire danced over his skin, mesmerizing, calling her, and the memory of how it had felt whispering over her skin back in the Handmaiden’s chambers at Court rushed through her.
A shiver trembled down her spine and the heat in her chest melted the renewed ice churning within her. Even without all that memory fire and with blood crusted on his skin and two angry half-healed slashes along his right side, Grey was breathtaking. There was more than just her craving for his memories attracting her, and without his shirt, she was even more aware of just how powerful he was. If a drake was forced to take human form, this is what he would look like — broad shoulders, massive chest, and thick, muscular arms. Beyond all that, his strength of spirit radiated a blazing ancient aura, crackling with more memory fire.
With all those memories he couldn’t forget.
“The Handmaiden used her magic to help me control my… condition.” He dropped his coat and shirt onto the floor beside the too-small wastebasket.
The need to draw closer, let him wrap his body, aura, and memories around her, strained her control and made the ache within her swell—
Except Tobias had said, when he’d told her to read the Handmaiden’s chambers that morning, that the Handmaiden had left Court. If she was helping Grey— “The Handmaiden is gone.”
“You see my problem.” He flashed her a hint of teeth. She was pretty sure it wasn’t meant as a sexual invitation, but another shiver slid through her anyway.
She clenched her jaw against the reaction and tried to focus on what he was saying — which was getting harder by the second and he was just standing there… shirtless, ablaze in magical flame. “So the Handmaiden uses her magic to stop yours—”
“More like she turns it to a dimmer setting.” He took a cloth from a shelf beside the sink and held it out to her. “Could you check my back to see if I’ve expelled all the shrapnel?”
She stared at the cloth with its invitation to cross the threshold and step into the bathroom.
Her pulse pounded faster, rushing in her ears. She doubted he meant the invitation — just like his flash of teeth — as a sexual one, but her mind was stuck there, stuttering on how just looking at him made her feel.
Jeez. Just concentrate. He was injured and it was easier for her to check his back instead of him straining to see it in the mirror.
Really.
But his pale gaze slid from the cloth in his hand and up her body with a fire that melted the rest of the frozen knot in her gut. With one look, he captured her soul again and the warmth within her burst into an inferno.
“I’ll still need a shower to get properly cleaned up, but there’s no point in that if more shrapnel is going to come out.” He shifted closer, and the fire in his eyes said there was more to this shower than just washing away the gore.
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Everything within her thrummed, vibrating on a level she’d never experienced before. Was this what desire felt like? Had anyone ever looked at her like this? There wasn’t an experience in her locket that even came close to this.
CHAPTER 23
Ivy’s heart pounded harder and Grey’s gaze dipped to the cloth in his extended hand.
“Would you?” he asked.
Would she? Her brain stuttered.
His back.
Right. His back. She took the cloth and her index finger brushed his. A snap of electric attraction shot up her arm, and her breath hitched.
His eyes widened. He’d felt it, too. Surely he’d felt it, too. But he turned his back to her, pressed his hands against the glass shower stall, and exposed the wide expanse of his muscled back. “With the Hand—” he said, his voice gruff, thick with…
Mother, she wanted it to be the same searing desire she felt coursing through her.
She turned to the sink and ran the hot water, waiting for it to warm up before dampening the cloth, praying that looking away from him would help her concentrate. Except this close, she was hyper-aware of him and could feel the heat of his memory fire, teasing her to activate her magic and take relief from her desire.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been struggling since the Handmaiden left, but you… I can’t explain it. You don’t just dim my magic. You turn it off. Everything becomes clear, as if I didn’t realize the world was so off kilter, like—”
“Like you were missing something.” Just like she was. “And now you’ve found it.”
“Yes.” His memory fire crackled stronger against her skin, and her power word strained in her throat. “My memories have gotten stronger since this morning. Probably because my soul magic is working overtime trying to keep me together. If we get separated during the museum break-in, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it together long enough to get the coin piece to safety. Your first priority has to be keeping it from Jet. Even if that means leaving me behind.”
“I can’t win a fight against Jet.”
“It’s not very dragonly, but run away. Protect the coin piece at all costs.”
“I understand.” Except she didn’t know if she could leave him. Even if they got separated, she didn’t think her conscience— her soul could abandon him.
Her throat tightened and the heat in her heart burned stronger. He was willing to sacrifice everything to keep their people safe. He’d shared his darkest secret with her, not knowing she’d forget it in the morning. She didn’t doubt he’d kept this secret from his friends. With the little she knew about dragon politics, she knew a dragon didn’t reveal a weakness like this. Which meant he felt keeping the coin piece out of the wrong hands was more important than his safety.
She ran the cloth under the water, wrung it out, and forced herself to turn to him and clean his injured back. Those broad shoulders, thick with powerful muscle, carried the weight of dragonkind and she suspected his friends only knew a fraction of his burden.
“If we’re talking liabilities, then you should know—” She brushed the cloth against his back, savoring the feeling of his memory fire tickling her hands and making all his glorious muscles tense. “—I have no memory. If I fall asleep or am knocked out, when I wake I won’t remember everything… I probably won’t remember anything.”
“Amnesia? I don’t know if I’ve ever heard of a drake with amnesia.”
“I thought every drake has amnesia after the rebirth spell?”
“I suppose you’re right.” He glanced at her, his pale gaze filled with concern, something he had every right to feel. It was bad enough she was incompetent in a fight. Her lack of memory could endanger him.
“I’ve always thought of my memory problem like the rebirth spell. Every morning I wake not knowing who or where I am, only that I’m a young green drake.” She wiped away a patch of crusted blood and exposed an angry red welt, where his body had expelled shrapnel and was now knitting itself back together. “Except I’m not completely reset. I understand language and can read. I know what things are, like a refrigerator, and I know that’s where
I keep food cold. I just don’t know anything about dragon politics and history, who’s who, and I know nothing about me.”
“We say the rebirth process resets a dragon’s soul, but it’s more complicated than that. It strips away everything personal but leaves enough information to survive, like languages, reading and writing, and basic fighting abilities — if you ever learned any.”
She snorted. “Guess I never did.”
“Your aim with a firearm is pretty impressive.” The cloth caught the edge of a still-open wound in the middle of his back and drew a hiss.
“Sorry.”
“Does it look like there’s still shrapnel in there?”
She dabbed at the gash. The edges were starting to seal shut and turn into a welt, like the few she’d already cleaned up. “I think you’re good.”
There were only a few more then…
Her gaze dipped to the crusted blood patch below the waistband of his pants, and her heart sped even faster. Oh, Mother.
“It must be scary.”
“Scary?” Yes… No… Her pulse roared. Surely he could hear it.
“Waking every morning not knowing who you are.”
Her brain stuttered over his words. “Waking— Yes. But I—” She brushed a hand over her locket. “I read the memories in my locket. I know I only know a fraction of what I’ve experienced. I can feel, soul deep, that I’m missing things. It aches—” Her throat tightened. “It aches all the time. The only time it doesn’t is when I’m filling myself with memories from the rooms and objects around me, but that doesn’t last.”
“Ivy—”
“I just need to make do. It’s all I’ve got.” Tears burned her eyes and she fought to keep them back. God damn it. She had to pull herself together. She was a dragon. Dragons were stronger than this. But she’d never said this out loud before, never told anyone this secret, and with the ever-present ache that consumed her, speaking her truth was too much to bear.
“Hey.” He turned and cupped her hand between his.
His memory fire crackled against her skin, no longer a gentle caress but an insistent flame. Her power word clogged her throat, making it ache as much as the emptiness in her soul.
“You have to know—” God, she shouldn’t confess it, but it was wrong lying to him. Every drake had secrets and with a hiss of her power word, she could see his. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her once he knew. Revealing a secret was different from having someone who could pry.
That thought hurt the most, but she still had to tell him. It was the right thing to do. If he was willing to endanger himself for the good of their people — and for a prince who wanted to kill him — she could tell him the truth. Even if that meant him wanting nothing to do with her.
A tear broke free, leaving a traitorous trail across her cheek, exposing how weak a dragon she really was.
“Hey,” he said again, his tender tone making her ache even more. “Once the Handmaiden returns, we’ll figure out if something can help you.”
“You would do that for me?”
“I’m the drake dragons go to when they’re in trouble.” He shrugged and winced. “I’m due to cash in on some favors, and I’ll cash a few in for you.”
The ache swelled, filling her chest and making it hard to breathe. “You have to know the truth.” Say it. Just say. “I can read your memories. Not just what’s in your clothes, but you. I don’t know how or why. I can’t with any other drake. I—”
His eyes narrowed. “So when you used your magic in the Handmaiden’s secret residence…?”
“I saw a wet alley reeking with garbage. I didn’t mean to, it just happened. It was so terrible.” Another tear broke free and heat flooded her face. This was the worst part, the part that made her insides churn with shame. “And it still stopped the ache.”
His grip on her hand tightened. “I wish you’d seen something else.”
“I won’t let it happen again.” She sniffed and fought back another tear. Shame or not, she was still a dragon and if Grey could live with his overwhelming memories, she could live with her emptiness. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m just sorry it was such a horrible memory.” His gaze softened. “I have over two thousand years of memories and the one that keeps coming back is that Godforsaken alley.”
“It wasn’t all bad. There was a red drake there, a friend… a brother? Your love for him is so strong.”
“Hunter.” Warmth and a hint of sadness crept into his eyes. “Anaea’s inamorato.”
The ache grew stronger. Even without a memory, she was pretty sure no one thought of her with the affection Grey had for Hunter. The cold hard truth was that she was alone and she didn’t want to be, but she had no idea who she could trust.
Another tear escaped. God damn it. Why couldn’t she just stop crying? “Some dragon I am.”
He brushed his thumb across her damp cheeks, wiping away the tears, and his memory fire tickled across her skin. Her power word pressed against her throat, straining to break free.
“Please, you have to stop touching me.” Her magic flickered, drawing his fire under her flesh — she hadn’t even activated it — and a hint of dark alley billowed around her. She shoved it back and fought to concentrate on holding her power in.
His expression changed, not with worry or fear… but… she had no idea with what. “If I give you a memory, how long will it ease your ache?”
“What?” She couldn’t have heard that right.
“If I give you a memory, how long will it stay with you?”
“I don’t know. The memories from things and rooms last anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours.”
“What about when you read my memory back in the Handmaiden’s residence?”
She thought back to the accident, but couldn’t remember if the ache had gone and if so, for how long. “Too much was happening. I’m not sure.”
“Okay.” He sat on the edge of the tub and pulled her down to sit across from him. “We have a few hours. I’ll share a memory and we’ll see how long it lasts.”
She jerked her hands from his, afraid she wouldn’t be able to stay in control if he kept touching her. “Why would you do that?”
“To minimize our liabilities.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if sharing his memories to ensure she was at her best was a common thing, but no one had ever suggested it before. Without a doubt, she would have permanently imprinted that in her locket if someone had.
He held out his hand, palm up, in a gesture for her to take it. “Just by standing next to me, you solve my problem. Let me see if sharing a few memories can help you.”
“Sharing too much will endanger you and your friends.” But every part of her screamed to take his hand and accept his offer. “How do you even know I won’t take what you share and use it against you?”
“Will you?”
“You’re going to just take my word for it?” She gripped the washcloth with both hands, as if that could ground her and help her understand how a stranger would be willing to do this for her.
“Promise you won’t report to Tobias until after you’ve gone to sleep.” His gaze dipped to his hand, still open in invitation.
She stared at it. A simple gesture, to just hold it and see his secrets. Except it was anything but simple. If she didn’t imprint whatever memory he gave her into her locket, she wouldn’t remember it the next time she woke, so she wouldn’t. It wasn’t right to keep his memory.
“Deal.” She shifted closer but couldn’t make herself take his hand.
He pursed his lips, his hand still extended.
“It’s really hard not to say my power word. If I take your hand, I might not be able to control myself.” She tightened her grip on the cloth. “I want you to be ready.”
“Do you know how it works? Do I think of something or do you?”
“I don’t know. When I read objects and rooms, I usually see the most recent memory or the one with the strongest emotions first. You—
” Her pulse pounded faster. “I’ve never experienced anything like you before.”
A hint of a mocking smile darkened his eyes. “Very few drakes have, baby.”
“Oh, you think you’re so special?” She slapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He burst out laughing, the sound low and rich and sending warmth swelling through her. “Let’s see if we can give you a little peace. I’ll concentrate on a positive memory, but—”
“With me here, you won’t be able to control your magic. Wait, if I shut your magic off, how will you be able to give me a memory?”
“I do remember things without my magic.” His smile turned wry and a hint of sensual heat filled his gaze. “It’s been a busy couple of weeks. I’m sure I can think of something worth sharing.”
The heat within her shivered back in response. Oh, Mother, she wanted more from him than just a few shared memories.
CHAPTER 24
“Take my hand,” Grey said.
Ivy swallowed, her mouth still too dry and the ice in her gut exploding into butterflies. Her power word bubbled past her throat, into her mouth, and she seized his hand, squishing the damp bloody washcloth between their fingers.
“Si,” she hissed. Her power flooded into him and he gasped.
Blinding blue flames flooded the bathroom, consuming Ivy’s vision until it was all she could see. No memory. Nothing. She strained to grasp onto something, anything, but there was just fire, blazing, searing, consuming fire.
Her pulse pounded and the heat from before flash-froze into the knot in her gut. This wasn’t going to work. It had been foolish to think it would. She couldn’t read his memories. Never had. The alley must have been stuck on his clothes or shoes or something.
Her power faltered. The glassed-in shower stall behind Grey flickered into sight, then vanished again in the blue blaze. Pressure seared her chest as if the fire was pouring into her, filling her up until she thought she’d burst, but she wasn’t seeing anything, and she had no idea if her constant ache would be eased if she didn’t experience a memory.
