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Nick felt his fangs extend a touch.

For the same reason, he didn’t answer at first.

He didn’t want to scare the kid.

He also didn’t want Malek to think he was pissed off at him.

Hewasn’tpissed off at him, not really, and he could admit that to himself, too.

In the end, Nick sighed, and combed a bruised hand through his own straight, black hair, which was longer than usual, but still much, much shorter than Mal’s.

“Can you tell me this?” Nick asked, gruff, after another beat of silence. “Those flashes of things I’ve been seeing… what I told you about, with the espresso machine, the houses by the beach, both in San Francisco and Europe, dreams I’ve had of living in the 1700s or whatever, the peasants, the farming, horses, the castle and gardens… Jem getting old. Was any of that real? Or is it all bullshit? Shit my mind made up for some other reason?”

Malek just looked at him, his expression unmoving.

Nick felt his jaw tighten.

He might not be a seer, but he could see the answer in those eyes.

For some reason, that answer made him irrationally angry.

“Are you going to tell me––?” he began in a growl.

“You don’tneedme to tell you,” Malek interjected calmly. “You already know what I would say, if I answered that question. Which tells me you might not be experiencing the memories from these sessionsdirectly,but it’s trickling through into your conscious mind, anyway. It’s why you’re so emotional, Nick.”

Nick felt his fangs extend a bit more.

Malek paused, his eyes looking from one of Nick’s crystal-colored irises to the other.

The way he did it made Nick think his eyes were likely turning red, too.

“Maybe you can’t see it all at once,” Malek suggested next. “Or maybe you can’tprocessit all at once. Maybe this method of flashbacks and dreams is your mind protecting itself? It’s possible you would overload yourself otherwise, Nick. You should probably trust that process and just let it unfold the way it wants to unfold.”

Nick glared at that calm gaze, but couldn’t quite bring himself to hold it. Maybe he knew how childish he was behaving. Or maybe he was avoiding, like the kid just said. Maybe he didn’t reallywantto hear more, not until he could see it for himself.

Or maybe he didn’t want to hear more at all––some part of him, at least.

Maybe he was hoping the kid would tell him it was all bullshit, and if Malekwouldn’tdo that, or evencouldn’tdo that, Nick didn’t want to know.

Or maybe all of thiswhat-did-Nick remember-and-not-rememberb.s. was just an excuse. Maybe Brick was right about the danger of prodding memories so painful they nearly killed him the first time. Maybe Nick was stupid to be digging all of this shit up again.

Maybe he should have let sleeping dogs lie.

But it was too late to second-guess the decision now.

Nick could feelthatsomehow, too.

It was already too late.

Maybe it had been too late the instant he reached out his hand for the glowing and morphing portal, practically touching his old life and the person he had been.

Maybe it had been too late as soon as Wynter walked into his life.

Maybe he’d never forgive himself if he walked away from it now.

Maybe the “too late” crap was another excuse to do what he wanted.

Whatever the truth of Nick’s annoying fucking brain, he knew he would keep going.