11. A LESSON IN FORGOTTEN MEMORIES

Chapter eleven

A LESSON IN FORGOTTEN MEMORIES

S leep evaded me. My mind reeled, twisting and combing over every potential outcome in what Suri was now calling "the plan." Unoriginal, sure, but her eyes lit up like twinkle lights on Christmas morning each time she got to use the phrase. So naturally I didn't fight her. It was strange. Somehow, despite my best attempts to remain neutral, I found her slithering into my heart and playing a vital role in my life that I hadn't intended for her or anyone else to claim. The term rattled around in my head like loose gravel: friend .

I didn't have the heart to ask her how long she'd been searching for a means to free those girls. Girls she'd come to love whose names rolled off her tongue on multiple occasions. Discovering these women's names, identities, and family histories broke me more and more with each new story. But I had listened, because nobody had lent an ear to the painful secrets Suri kept locked in her vault, forcing her to fight on her own. Well, not anymore.

She spoke of Anesda: seven years in service to the club, two in the meat market. She had exactly one sister—younger—whom Anesda had become guardian over after their parents' untimely deaths. A year after her forced entry into the market, her sister, Adawna, had become the newest addition to the club scene. Adawna was a dancer for the time being, but based on Suri's uncanny ability to sniff out information, it'd be mere months before Malachi would transition the eighteen-year-old to the club's insidious underbelly.

The way the demon Lord watched the club staff was nothing short of stalker status. He'd take personal interest in the girls who became favorites—falsely love bombing them to make sure they felt irreplaceable and important—while taking stock of how many returning clients would ask them for private dances or side services. Then, to ensure his precious VIP lounge remained intact, he'd dig into the girl's background. Who would miss her? If she were to drop off the face of the earth, become dead to the outside world, would it raise suspicion? Suri told me that had been her only saving grace: her ties to the castle. Her absence would bring too much attention to the club. A simple, fortunate fact. I'd let her spill the poison she'd held inside until there was no more to share before encouraging her to get some rest.

My stomach in knots, I wandered about the halls and shut my brain off, focusing on life's more easily digestible details. Death's castle was truly a marvel. The intricate, colorful stained-glass detailing in the main corridor held my attention for the better half of an hour. Such craftsmanship: the way the inlays swept about curved panes, allowing pale light in through crescent-shaped panels. Moonbeams hit precious oil paintings just right, as if they'd been placed on those particular walls for that very reason. A portrait of Reigning Reaper Shadra hung in the north hall and Valhalla in the south, but the most intriguing one of all had to be Cadagon's.

Its prominent placement on the main stairwell was surely intended to intimidate passersby, though his hollow stare and clutched scythes had the adverse effect, enticing me. I ran a finger across the smooth, dark stain of the frame. Who was this man, really? What manner of sin had he gotten himself wound up in? The way he looked out for Kim behind her back but refused to give her even a modicum of affection in her presence had become a noticeable trend. Why? I saw the way he blinked back pain when she'd jab at him. My best guess was that he believed the further away he kept her, the safer she was from the vipers in his corner. His request for his own death became a little clearer in light of that thought. Or quite possibly, it could be pure deception. Making me believe him a martyr in all this.

Candlelight swept through the study hallway, dragging me back to reality. Curious. I edged closer, my steps quickening. I'd know that smell anywhere: Kim. Up to her usual mischief no doubt. Her honeyed perfume lingered in her wake, driving me mad, and that was before I laid eyes on her deep-cut, lacy nightgown.

"What are you doing, Princess?" I whispered into the still study.

She jumped at my approach, and a snicker escaped me. Her visible fear—a rare treasure—was downright adorable. Those wide eyes. Her slightly parted lips. The flush on her cheeks. I swear, this woman could step on my throat, and I would thank her for it. Gods, why did I have to choose silk pajamas? Damn things made it nearly impossible to hide my growing arousal. I sank into the nearest chair, carefully tucking my hardened cock into my waistband.

Calm down, Cooper. She doesn't want you. Not like that.

And yet, I couldn't help but picture drawing out her fear in the dark, pinning her against the nearest bookshelf, and sinking my teeth into her neck. Kissing my way ever downward. Oh, how her heart would race. How her blood would pump into her most private of places and throb for me. I'd demolish the lacy little number she wore—tearing it from her skin to reveal those perfect, round breasts—and waste no time sucking a pebbled nipple into my mouth. I would nip at her peak with my front teeth as she squirmed beneath me, her breathy moans in my ear and her hands knotting in my hair. She'd edge closer to her release.

But I'd deny her.

Heaving her into my arms, I'd set her tight ass on the edge of the table and do what I'd craved since our one delicious night together: get on my knees for my queen. Oh, the way I'd savor every stroke of my tongue against her swollen clit: heady and sweet and weeping for me. Bringing her to the verge, I would pull back just in time to see the heat flare in her gaze. She'd beg, and I would let her until she laid claim to me. Until that one precious word spilled from her plump lips: Mine.

Ripping me from my fantasy, she extended a worn tome to me. I cleared my throat, my face hot. The tattered book spoke of past treasons during Valhalla's rule. One in specific mirrored our current situation too much to dismiss as happenstance. It clicked suddenly: if Death had the ability to manipulate and read energy, then perhaps Kim did too. "You could read the shifter realm."

Kim looked me over as her nose wrinkled. "You know, for someone who wanted me dead upon arrival, it seems strange you're suddenly so…cheerleader-ish. Why?"

Shit. Too nice. Too helpful. Damn Lyvias; why did the dude have to be such a dick? I stood, feigning indifference.

"Maybe that sharp tongue of yours finally won me over. Or maybe, just maybe, I changed my mind about your heathen upbringing." I lowered myself into her sight line and savored the bob in her throat at my proximity. She didn't shy away but held my gaze, setting me ablaze all over again. "Regardless, I now know where my loyalties lie. We're in this together, remember?"

Her expression softened. "You'll come with me then?"

"Anywhere."

Despite me insisting on waiting for a less ungodly hour to go wandering in the forbidden shifter realm, she'd made up her mind. We were going. Now. She was such a reckless thing. But who was I to deny her? Of course, nothing in Anathema came easy. Nasheesh—always lurking somewhere he was not wanted—cut off our exit to the main foyer. Dude had a serious creep factor that bordered on stalker status. Did he even sleep? I cracked my knuckles, ready to play my part yet again: distracting him so my girl could make her escape. "Nas, my good sir, how might you be this fine morning?"

"You," Nasheesh greeted coldly. "What are you doing here?"

He drifted about with interlocked hands, stealing glances down the halls as baneful magic billowed from his mouth. Not only did he have a wicked, lying tongue, but he was paranoid to boot. What was he hiding? He offered me a wink, and my jaw locked. Right. This was for show, to convince any potential onlookers that he and I had nothing tying us to one another.

He offered me a playful grin and shouted, "You should be rotting in a cell until the end of time!"

Play along, Coop. Don't snap his neck.

"Oh, you haven't heard of the queen's pardon then?" I leaned against a carved pillar.

With one final survey of the halls, his shoulders relaxed, finally satisfied that we were alone.

"A little late to be exploring the castle, don't you think, my Lord? People might get suspicious."

"I was about to ask you the same thing. Wandering about the halls at such an hour could get a person into trouble."

His brow furrowed. "Precisely my thoughts. Keeping the company of the future queen…I fear you might be getting too close to your charge, seeing as this fa?ade is merely a means to an end after all."

Kim. An end. Malachi's words about cozying up to her in order to secure whatever future he hid from me came roaring back to life. Coincidence? Unlikely. Nasheesh knew more than he'd led me to believe: that much was clear. I extended an air of calm about me, though I was anything but.

"Ah, so even you believe it? I would say I have been doing my job well then."

"Careful, Highness. Those of the Reigning Reaper lineage have a way of manipulating a person's very soul. Demanding loyalty." His condescending smile faltered. "We wouldn't want you getting mixed up with the wrong side now, would we?"

Sides. Okay, so this fucker really did have dealings with Malachi then.

"I can't say I know what you mean. Trust is a hard-earned thing, especially for someone with a mortal upbringing."

He shivered. "Mortals are vile creatures. Whatever undertaking she has coerced you into at such an hour is nothing worth the future king's time. Would you like me to intervene?"

Hell no. For him to intervene meant a potential blow out; and with my returned thirst, I didn't have much faith in my ability to keep my hands to myself. Dude had to go. ASAP.

"She is far more suspicious than most, which requires dedication on my part. You stepping in would ruin the progress I've made. No, I will attend to her. Get her to trust me further."

"If you are sure?"

"I am. By the end of this, I'll have her eating out of the palm of my hand."

More like I'd have him eating out of my hand before I used it to sucker punch the shit-eating grin plastered to his face. Based on his smug parting nod, I knew I'd gotten through to him. Perfect. Let him think me a treasonous beast. It would make his shock when I stabbed him in the back that much richer. The thought alone had me salivating. What a slow death his would be.

With him gone, I found Kim in the courtyard.

"Nasheesh?" she asked.

I cracked my knuckles in jest. "Handled."

She rolled her eyes, and we found our way to the shapeshifter gate.

Fate can be as cruel as she is kind. For example? The shifter gate required royal blood to open; and given neither of us had come prepared at such a late hour, we had one option. Me. I had to break Kimber's delicate skin despite the hunger ravaging me from the inside. Cruel, indeed. I brushed my lips against her soft wrist—the urge to tear her wide open thrumming in my head—and she shivered under my touch. The sensation splayed tingles up my arms. Control yourself. Not too deep.

Her heavy-lidded stare burrowed into my bones as I sank my fangs in, gently. Holy. Shit. Suri's blood had been sweet—delicious even—but Kim's? Cosmic. Notes of iron, honey, and wine rushed over my tongue as magic leached from her open wound, caressing my lips upon its escape. But not her magic. Ours. The magic born from our agreement traced a touch down her neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, though she didn't seem to notice. It turned to me, offering a similar caress, before separating into two misty orbs and disappearing into our chests. The hell?

Her heartbeat picked up, the thrum of excitement in her veins rushing between her legs; and I stole a glance to find her bottom lip pinched in her teeth like…like she— Wait, was she enjoying this? Oh, fuck yes. The world around us fell away as she flooded my senses until all I could smell, feel, hear, and see was her. Her taste coiled around my mind, burrowing down into my soul. Everything in me cried out to pull her into my arms. Ravage her until thirst and passion were satiated, though I doubted either would be fulfilled in a timely fashion. Days wouldn't appease me.

To my dismay, she pulled her wrist away a second later, an embarrassed smile on her face. Whether her reluctance was a blessing or a curse, I wasn't sure. But there was one thing I knew with deafening certainty: my addiction to her had amped up ten notches—her magnetism once again flexing the white-knuckle hold she had on me. Whatever had happened between us, it had changed something, and not just for me. I could sense it in her. Feel it in my own chest: magic churning about as if two heartbeats rattled inside me. What the damned was that?

I met her gaze, searching for signs that she'd sensed it too, but she gave me nothing. The air grew tense. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Let's just go," she dismissed coolly.

We started towards the gate, my ego bruised and heart hammering.

The realm paths were nothing short of mind-bending. Suspended over an endless void below, I struggled to connect what I was seeing with reality. They defied rationality, but I suppose many things did in Anathema. Movement in the black abyss caught my eye as a stream of violet fog rose from the pit. One by one, more plumes followed suit, each dingy and thick. Magic, but different. Tainted somehow. Violent in nature, they jerked about to battle their neighboring billows, but not like the misty magics I'd seen since Fate had gifted me new eyes. These were solid and greedy in their reach for the sky above. Snarls, moans, and cries carried from the depths, intermingling in the chaos; and my palms grew clammy.

Chaos…

The brief glimpses I'd gotten as the beast hunted me in the Shroud…this magic looked incredibly similar. I stood frozen, watching the feral clouds creep too close for comfort, only for each plume to bash against an invisible ceiling at my feet. The nearest hissed and moaned, slamming again and again for release, but to no avail. I swallowed hard. Did the void surrounding Anathema belong to the in-between? Was this how Malachi had managed to make his deal with the Old Gods' child? It didn't make any sense. He couldn't very well jump into the void and return…could he?

I looked towards Kim, eager to see if her expression mirrored my own, but she'd already disappeared through the gate. With hurried steps, I caught up to her, ready to tell her my suspicions; but all thoughts fell from my mind the second I stepped through that gate. Catastrophic destruction greeted me. Sure, I'd seen it in my winged form during Kim and Suri's tour through Anathema; but witnessing it in first person on ground level—smoke and ash tangling in my nose—lodged a knot in my throat.

The seaside realm had once held such beauty. While my memories were few, the town's skeletal remains still sang of its once peaceful charm. I pictured mothers flying kites near the cliffs and a father's booming laughter as he watched his child reel in their first fish. This place had thrived on promise and joy: truly alive in every way.

Until it wasn't.

Turmoil and loss and grief replaced any semblance of happiness my childhood home once contained, reducing it to nothing more than a horrific energetic imprint. As if that wasn't enough, I had no choice but to watch Kimber's heart break in tandem. The more she saw, the more she felt. She took the shifters' pain into herself, and their torment became hers, her rage building alongside mine.

Kim wandered close by, wrapped in her own thoughts, when a shrill cry pricked my ears. My blood ran cold. Why did I know that cry? It rang out again, taunting me towards the town outskirts like a specter luring their victim into a darkened forest. Much the same, the sound possessed me, and I doubt my feet would have listened if I'd ordered them to stop. But I didn't.

I found the source, or rather her hunched down behind a bush at eye level with a young boy, his back to me. I sank to my knees—my fingers fiddling with the loose gravel—bewitched by her kind eyes.

Panic showed on the woman's face. "Mama has to go, but I've sent for help; and I need you to go with her when she arrives. No matter what , you go with her. Do you understand?"

"Why can't I stay with you?" the child argued.

"Because I have to go help your father. That is what we do for those we love: we protect them. Right?"

"Yes, but—"

A blast shook the ground, and the three of us jumped in time as the windows in a nearby house blew out, flames engulfing the roof. Two screams echoed from inside but were quickly silenced when the home crumbled in on itself. The woman shuddered.

"I need you to be brave. Protect Amelia and her daughter, yes?"

"I'm scared," he sobbed.

"I know baby, but fear is how we stay alert in the face of danger. It is how our body keeps us safe." She took his face in her hands, bowing his head to place a kiss atop it. "I'm sure her little girl is probably quite frightened too. I bet she could use a good, strong friend right now to hold her hand and help her feel better."

"But…don't you need me?"

"Always. But you, my dear sweet boy, have a destiny to fulfill. A grand one full of adventure and love and wonder."

Another boom carried in the distance, and he dove into her arms.

"I won't leave you!" the boy cried.

"Leave? Why, of course not. Do you want to know how I am sure we will never be apart?"

He nodded against her chest.

"Because I will always be right here." She forced a smile beneath misty eyes and placed a gentle touch over the boy's heart. "While that big heart in your chest grew in my womb, Fate smiled upon you, gave you a special gift. You see, she took part of that big heart of yours, and she gave a piece of it to another. It is your job to go out there and find it."

Fire tore through the Evermoor Woods, drawing closer to the building atop the hill—the same one her attention kept gravitating towards. It became clear in an instant that this was more than a means to soothe the boy. It was a goodbye.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you, forever."

"I am so sorry." She stood, prying his hands from her tattered gown and placing them in his lap. "I promise, one day this will all make sense. Now stay here. Wait for Queen Amelia."

After a final smattering of kisses and one tight hug, she tucked him away in the bush, fluffing the branches to conceal him. She turned towards the heart of the terror surrounding us. Her frame silhouetted against the raging flames, she whispered into the night, "I love you always, Copernicus."

My heart seized.

I circled the crying boy to find my own childish reflection staring back. That can't be…

"Mother?" I whispered.

I reached for her, but my hand slipped through the vision like vapor as she ran headfirst into her own destruction. Gone. My fists tightened and shook. I wanted to grab her, hold her tight, weep with her; but no. Instead I got to relive a torturous, long-forgotten memory. And memories could never be flesh and bone, no matter how much they clawed at one's soul, begging to be real again. Tears fell freely, only this time I wasn't alone. I had the company of a young boy whose life had been irrevocably changed that day, and together we mourned. My mother's bravery, her love for me…I owed her everything. I could have stayed there lost in my own brokenness for eternity. Drowning in my own sorrow.

But Kim's bloodcurdling scream sent me crashing back to the present.