Chapter 23

MUCH LATER, AFTER HER tears subsided and Remus had rescued her poor salmon, which was dry, but not completely ruined—not that she had an appetite for it any longer—Amy stood at the sink staring out the window. Her view was a rainbow of vivid colors, but all she saw was a dimly lit cave, cages, and the black eyes from her dreams.

Amy jumped when arms surrounded her from behind and pulled her against a warm, hard body.

"I didn't mean to startle you, gem. I called your name, but you were miles away. What were you thinking about?"

"A memory, or perhaps it was a dream. Things are so jumbled in my head, I'm not sure."

"Tell us," Remus said, leaning against the counter beside her. She hadn't heard him come up behind her either. "We might be able to sort out fact from dream."

"Do you remember it?" Tarus asked, while gently stroking her hair. "Telling us may allay your fears."

"I doubt it," she replied.

"Try," he urged.

She sighed wearily, knowing her stubborn mates wouldn't relent. But if she was going to tell the horrifying tale, she needed them close. Amy turned in Tarus' arms and leaned into his chest, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, which would be welcome as she told the chilling tale. Seeking additional reassurance, she slid her arm through Remus', holding on tight, and feeling the solid strength of his muscles beneath her touch. But ever protective, he refused to settle for mere proximity and positioned himself behind her. Surrounded by her mates—towering, rock solid, and formidable, like an impenetrable fortress—she found the strength to begin.

"I was walking through the woods. The trees and vegetation were of every color other than green, so I know it wasn't Earth, but here on Terra Nova.Up ahead, I saw a strange light and went to investigate." As she spoke, the images in her mind became clearer and much more vivid. "The ground looked lumpy, which seemed odd. Upon closer look, I realized they were mounds aligned in evenly spaced rows, like a field planted with crops. They seemed to beckon me closer, promising to reveal their secrets. I dropped beside one and brushed aside the dirt, compelled to look. Then I wished I hadn't. They were pods, not like peas or beans, more like cocoons, I guess. And they were transparent." Amy shuddered in their arms as she described the horrifying contents. "Inside, I saw a tiny wax being, pasty white like the one in the cave, and I could see even though they were closed, its eyes were pitch black. I ran screaming then suddenly Beck and Adria were there. And Dr. Juna and Mike Shaughnessy. We were having a picnic by the lake. I know that sounds weird. It was something we always talked about doing but never have had a chance to."

Finished, thank goodness, she leaned her head back against Remus' shoulder in time to see Tarus exchange a worried look with his twin.

"What was that? "

His eyes shifted to her then back to his brother.

"You know something. Please don't keep me in the dark."

"Some of what you described happened. You actually went on a picnic with Beck and Adria and Dr. Juna and Mike."

She looked over her shoulder at Remus for confirmation. Not that she didn't believe Tarus, but the idea she had blocked out the event was disturbing. What else had her troubled mind filtered from her?

His arms tightened around her. "You went for a walk in the woods on the hill overlooking the lake. They reported hearing you scream, then you came running out of the woods in a panic. You insisted on leaving, repeating that you had to get away, and they couldn't calm you until they did as you asked. The next morning, a team of us searched and found nothing—no mounds, no pods, or cocoons."

"Then I am crazy," she whispered, adding silently, like everyone always said .

"Do not say that," Tarus growled.

"It isn't true," Remus insisted. "What happened in the cave would traumatize anyone."

"Not Adria. She seems fine. Even Myron is better."

"In time, you will be too," Tarus gently reassured her. "But these dreams that torment you must stop. I insist you resume sessions with the trauma specialist."

"As do I," Remus stated, sounding as gruff and authoritative as his brother. "Why are you so against it?"

"I've had recurring nightmares before. As a child, I would wake screaming, like I often do now. Each night, a girl identical to me would appear. She had such sad eyes," Amy said in a whisper, seeing it all clearly, although it was many years ago. "When she tried to speak, nothing would come out. I could tell what she had to say was important; she'd get so frustrated she'd let out a silent scream. Then she'd run, as if afraid of something. I would follow, running and running until my lungs burned. When she was within reach, she'd vanish before my eyes, leaving me gazing at my reflection in the mirror. I couldn't grasp what was happening. In tears, I'd climb into my mother's bed." Shaken by the retelling, she took a deep breath before proceeding. "The dream occurred night after night for weeks on end without a break. When we were both too exhausted to function, she took me to a doctor."

"Was the doctor able to help you?" Tarus asked, gently wiping away tears she didn't even know she was crying.

"They tried pills, hypnosis, guided imagery, magnetic therapy, and counseling, session upon session, everything except voodoo."

"You can't have survived all this time on so little sleep," Remus insisted. "Something must have helped."

"Drugs did," she answered succinctly. "Sleeping pills and antidepressants, to be specific. One made it so I didn't remember if I dreamed, and the other made it so I didn't care. But there were side effects that made me feel worse. When I was old enough to decide for myself, I stopped taking them. Fortunately, the dreams didn't return. Until now."

"We don't want you drugged," Tarus agreed, worry making his deep voice even deeper. "There must be another way. We'll talk to Adria and Dr. Juna."

"No!" she exclaimed, her fingers curling into his tunic. "I work with them. It would be awkward, and I don't want them to think I'm unstable. "

"They won't think that, Amy," Remus gently stated. "They're medical professionals, and your friends."

"They're also my bosses," she insisted, vehemently shaking her head. "I'll go to see Anna Walker again, but I don't want Juna or Adria to know."

Her mates shared a look, appearing skeptical and ready to exert their dominance.

"There's a treaty between my world and yours you may have forgotten. It gives women rights," she warned, her voice wavering and undermining her attempt to sound tough.

"That applies to unmated females," Tarus countered. "As a mated female, you are under Primarian rule."

"Please," she pleaded, abandoning all pretense. "Can't we keep this between us for now? And Anna, of course."

"Others finding out has been a problem for you before, hasn't it?" Remus guessed correctly.

"Growing up, there were whispers. And there have been some here as well."

"Who dared?" Tarus asked in a lethal tone.

"That isn't important," she said, rubbing his arm to soothe his ire and roaring protective streak. "Already, people walk on eggshells around me because of the amnesia. Not that Juna or Adria would talk, but these things have a way of getting out, especially in small communities, and I'd rather not add fuel to the fire if I can help it."

Her warriors shared another look, clearly torn about what was best for her and protecting her reputation. Finally, they relented.

"We'll do it your way," Tarus agreed.

"Oh, thank you! "

"For now," he added. "If the dreams persist, we're calling in Ellar or Jarlan."

"Who'll want to consult Juna because I'm human!"

"It's our way, or we will march you down to the clinic first thing tomorrow morning." She glanced back at Remus, who'd issued this directive.

"Let me see your eyes."

He blinked and the scowl faded. The lavender of his irises, without a speck of blue, gleamed in the midday sunlight flooding her apartment. "Whatever for?"

"I thought you and Tarus had changed places on me."

"I'm serious about this, Amy. You can't go on like this."

She sighed. "Two against one really isn't fair."

"Unless we're pampering you in the tub or with massages or making you scream with pleasure," Tarus reminded her.

"There is that."

Remus' lips found her cheek and the side of her neck. "There is also the fact that we both love you and are concerned about you."

"I promise to contact Anna first thing in the morning." She turned to face her sweet, lighthearted, easier-going twin—or so she had thought. "When did you get all surly and inflexible?"

"When my mate was so terrified by recovered memories, she left bloody claw marks on my skin."

"And mine," Tarus put in, holding up his arm.

She gasped in alarm, seeing the half-moons her nails had left. Like the tears, she hadn't realized. Guilt over causing them injury convinced her more than all the talk, and even Remus' threats, to call the trauma counselor.