Page 13

Damon

I barely slept an hour.

Coming awake with the sensory memory of Nene’s lips on my cheek, I lay there and remembered. That quick, fleeting final kiss had lain buried in the depths of my mind for so long that it was like discovering it all over again.

The final kiss, I thought again. I still hadn’t untangled all the memories, but that much, I knew.

Nene was never able to kiss me again after that.

Rage, fiery and hot, burned behind that wall of memories I’d yet to see past

Dread still clung to me.

Something dark lay just on the other side of these buried memories and I felt like a foolish kid, ready to hide with my head under the covers, because I didn’t want to know what it was. Whatever happened after was bad and I wanted it to stay forgotten.

Something flashed through my mind and I ground my teeth together.

Dark eyes. Wide with fear and horror. Now lifeless.

Instinctively, I tightened my hands, claws stretching inside my skin, wanting to slice out. I held them back. In my arms, Kit stirred and burrowed closer.

Forcing my body to relax, I closed my eyes and nudged the dream aside.

Something had woken me.

The dream still clawed—I could feel it pulling at my tired mind. It wanted to show me more.

Too bad .

Turning my face toward Kit, I buried my nose in her hair and breathed her in. The fragile memories of what I’d felt for Nene fell apart, buried under the avalanche of emotion that Kit had triggered from the beginning.

She sighed and smoothed a hand down the front of my shirt, subconsciously petting me in her sleep. I smiled, curling my fingers over her wrist, just to feel the warmth of her skin.

The scent of the ocean was heavy in my nose. Under that, I could pick up both Frankie and Kit’s ghostly protector, as well as the warm, fragrant familiarity that was Kit. I knew her scent better than I knew my own and addictive as it was, it was easy to filter past it to the others hanging in the wet, cold air.

Lemeraties was close. I didn’t like the specter who had practically adopted Kit, but I’d seen her get between danger and Kit more than once. My gut told me she’d do it again, and again, and again. Having her there made it easier for me to close my eyes and try to grab a little sleep with Frankie so close.

Frankie.

She was a fucking problem.

I believed what she told us earlier but that didn’t mean she was safe.

The wind howled, tearing at the durable, hi-tech fabric that stood as a barrier between us and the cold wind. Exposed as we were on the beach, I’d felt more comfortable pitching camp out here than I would have if we’d pushed into the interior.

This place made my skin itch.

I didn’t like it and it wasn’t just because I knew how much Kit had suffered here.

It went deeper than that, but I couldn’t identify why.

The night drifted by, an hour, then another as I lay there, resting without sleeping.

The wind quieted until the loudest noise was the water breaking against the shore.

It wasn’t a peaceful quiet.

The leopard inside twitched his ears and sat up, wary.

Lying beside Kit, I listened, senses stretched out.

If I’d been in my cat form, my fur would be standing up on end.

A cloying taste coated the back of my tongue and I sensed the wrongness as it settled over the camp. Easing away from Kit, I slid out of the tent and stood, looking around me into a fog-draped darkness.

Kit shifted on our layered bedrolls, the two sleeping bags tucked up to her chin to keep in her body heat.

Drawing in a deep breath, I tasted the air. I didn’t have the nose of a wolf—those bastards could smell prey from well over a mile away, but my nose worked well enough. There was nothing nearby except those in our camp.

But something wasn’t right.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

Behind me, tucked inside the tent, I heard Kit gasp.

Then she stopped breathing.

I was at her side in a second, gripping her face.

“Kit!”

Her eyes flew open and she stared straight ahead, looking right through me.

I shook her harder. “ Kit !”

It was a roar this time.

A short, wheezing breath escaped Kit’s lips, followed by another but she didn’t wake up.

Cold hands covered mine and I looked up into the Lemera’s eyes.

She wasn’t wearing the human guise. She looked worse than any monster who’d ever crawled across the screen in any old, pre-war zombie flicks, eyes milky, skin peeling off her bones in patches, and totally missing in some places.

And she burned with magic—it was a cold, teeth-grinding power and it made the old, ancient power I’d inherited from my father snarl and bare its teeth.

But the leopard was wary, watchful, his tail flicking back and forth as we watched her.

“She walks the dream paths—she’s with the boy,” the Lemera said.

The flap of the tent blew in and Frankie was there, but neither of us looked at her.

The Lemera hissed. “Madae…”

Her milky gaze snapped to mine and she bared the rotted stumps of her teeth. “Madae has found them.”

I had no idea what that meant. But it didn’t sound good.

Swearing, I went to shake Kit again and found myself thrown back against the side panel of the tent. Somehow, Frankie was between me and the small shelter before I smashed into it, steadying me.

“You can’t wake her that way,” the Lemera said, glaring at me. “I must do this. Do not disturb us.”

“What are you…”

But the Lemera was gone—she just grabbed Kit’s shoulders and sank in like vapor.

I jerked away from Frankie and went to Kit’s side, swearing.

Kit’s back arched up off the ground in a painful spasm, her mouth open in a grimace, but she made no sound.

Frankie moved around to her other side and reached out.

I caught her wrist before she made contact.

“Relax, big guy,” she said sardonically. “I’m just trying to get a look inside. Dreams and souls are connected. I might be able to tell you what’s going on.”

Squeezing, I stared her down.

“I won’t hurt her. You have my word,” she said, voice gentling.

For some reason, I believed her.

Still…

Flashing my fangs at her, I said, “Remember what I am. Because you had better keep your word.”

She inclined her head, then, with a tug on her wrist, she said, “If you’ll let go…?”

Slowly, I uncurled my fingers.