Page 7

Damon

K it hadn’t asked a single fucking question. I wished she would. Maybe I could find a way to explain some of the jumble in my head.

Or talk my way through it. Bits and pieces were still working loose—hell, screw that. It wasn’t bits and pieces. It was chunks and boulders. But certain parts were clear, and becoming clearer.

Nene.

I remembered that sweet, gentle smile.

And Sidik…the man I might have been. There was a gaping void in my head and even trying to probe at the memories still hiding left my brain recoiling, and other parts pounding like muscles bruised.

Don’t force the memories, Chang had said. I removed the block, but let them come on their own. They will come, but don’t push it.

I wanted to claw at the blackness in my head until it shredded.

But the pale look on Kit’s face when I’d finally come to after that first monstrous rush of memory had revealed itself—and the way she’d flinched when I said Nene’s name…

How did I explain that?

She crouched on the floor in front of me in the small, cramped office, wiping up the rest of the blood from my forearm. Deep inside the limb, it itched.

It was also icy cold. I eyed the blade Kit had put on the desk with acute dislike. “Why are you carrying her dagger?”

“She’s lurking,” Kit said vaguely.

Her gaze slid to the side and I dropped it, figuring we shouldn’t discuss this particular monster in front of a wolf who clearly hated Kit’s family as much as I did.

Lilja sat in the seat behind the desk with a remote expression on her face, the mottled bruises on her throat slowly fading away into her skin.

Her eyes moved to mine, sensing my attention.

“Don’t ever come after her again,” I warned her softly.

“I didn’t go after her, Alpha Lee.” Lilja lifted her brows. “I asked questions I’ve waited over a decade to have answered.”

“You want answers from somebody who was a traumatized kid—” I bit off.

But when I would have gone on, Kit’s fingers tightened on my forearm and I stopped, meeting her eyes with a silent curse.

Without saying a word, she looked at me and told me to let it go.

I cupped her cheek with my uninjured hand. “If I don’t, you going to cut me up again?”

“Do I have to?” she asked, her lips twitching.

Instead of answering, I leaned in and kissed her. “How long you been planning that dirty trick?”

“Well, there was a time when this loudmouth arrogant shifter thought he had the right to try wringing my neck and I figured the next time somebody pulled something like that, I’d better have a trick up my sleeve.” She slid me a look from under her lashes. “What do you think…would it work?”

“You might need to practice it a bit. Somebody standing behind you would have an advantage.”

“Oh, I’ve been practicing…with Doyle.” Her gaze fell away.

“Ah.” I stroked my thumb over her lower lip, felt the softness of it give. “Might explain why he had to come in for weird healings a time or two. Never would say why.”

“It’s a complicated move—especially the way we’ve been practicing. I didn’t want to cut blindly, but he insisted. You have to get the angle just right.” Her green eyes moved back to meet mine and the agony there gutted me.

I felt it slice through, wounding us both. “He’s a tough kid, Kit. We both saw to that. If anybody can survive this, it’s him. We will find him.”

Lilja watched silently as Kit boxed up the unused supplies back into the first aid kit, myriad unasked questions in her eyes.

I ignored them. If she’d wanted in, she’d pissed away her chance at earning our trust with the shit she’d just pulled. Chang had said she might be of use but warned me that she could be hot-headed.

Her pack would take their cue from her—a hot-headed wolf pack wasn’t going to be useful.

Kit placed the white box on the table and gathered the pictures still strewn on the floor. Several were smeared by gory splatters of blood—my blood. She held them apart but I took them away and one-handedly shuffled them in a rough sort of order and tossed them on the desk between Lilja and me, my eyes on her.

The other Alpha didn’t miss the challenge in my eyes.

“I don’t have a problem with your clan,” she said in a flat voice.

“That means you don’t have a problem with her .”

Kit stiffened and shot me an annoyed look.

Lilja’s lips peeled back from her teeth and she gave Kit a condescending sneer. “He speaks for you, then.”

“No,” Kit said sweetly, but the look in her eyes—one she fired at both of us, was pure acid. “And he knows it. But I’ve been living with the clan for well over a year. And I believe I mentioned we’re lovers. We’re kind of a package deal.”

Cupping Kit’s neck, I stroked my thumb over her skin and smiled at Lilja. “She’s cut down bigger prey than you, Lilja. And I don’t need to speak for her—I’m just not going to let somebody bloodthirsty and blind with it go picking a pointless fight over something she’s not responsible for—shifters don’t, as a rule, blame kids for the sins of the family. That’s a human failing.”

She flinched.

Kit reached out and touched one of the bloodied pictures, her fingers smearing the blood even more.

“I’m sorry for their deaths, Lilja. They were the first people to show me a lick of kindness. And if I’d thought anybody would have tracked me off that island, I would have said something—but they’d spent my entire life telling me I would be better off dead. Why would I have expected any of them to follow me? I hadn’t even expected to survive.”

Kit turned and met my eyes, nodded.

She was done here.

As far as I was concerned, so was I…save for one small thing.

As Kit walked out, I leaned over the desk and caught Lilja’s gaze.

“We were never here,” I told her softly. “If I find out you spoke to anybody about us, your pack will need a new Alpha.”

She shoved upright, eyes burning a hot, furious blue.

Unleashing the hold I kept on myself, I snarled.

Lilja flinched.

It was slight, just a tiny spasm around her mouth, but I saw it—and she knew I did.

“Remember what I said.”

“I’ve no reason to speak the personal affairs of other Alphas,” she said in a dismissive tone.

Satisfied, I left.

Chang had probably used up his welcome here with this favor, but I doubted he’d care.

I sure as fuck didn’t.

The hangar was privately owned and had two small cabins on the far perimeter, all but hidden among thick, dense firs.

We didn’t leave for them until Lilja disappeared. It was dark out by the time Kit and I let ourselves in.

I didn’t know who owned the small airstrip, the hangar or the cabins, but I knew what to expect. I’d done enough traveling with Chang to know the spaces he’d feel comfortable frequenting—and if I was traveling with Kit, and trying to keep quiet about it, he’d be even more circumspect than normal.

It was no surprise to find the cabins basic but comfortable, the solar-powered utilities fully charged with firewood stacked outside for the fireplace in case we either needed or chose to use it.

Gentry remained outside our cabin until I’d done a walk-through and I went back outside to find him waiting. Before I could ask what he wanted, he asked, “Everything up to snuff?”

“It’s fine.” I didn’t bother telling him I could have scented any predator and Kit was far more equipped to take care of herself than he was—he’d decided he liked her and a guy’s got to have his own moral code, human or not. Or mostly human. Besides, I wouldn’t ever argue with anybody who had taken a liking to her—assuming it was just that—and wanted to look out for her.

She might argue—and often did—but Kit hadn’t had enough people looking out for her.

She might not need it, but she damn well deserved to have people care.

When I closed the door, Kit was hunkered in front of the fireplace, already laying down kindling.

“Was he waiting to make sure we were safe?” she asked, a light touch of amusement in her voice.

Leaning against the table in the small eating area, I watched her. “Seemed like. Although I suspect he’s more concerned about you. You’ve got a habit of charming the surliest bastards around.”

That surprised her. Looking up from her task, she blinked. “What?”

“Think about it. There’s me. T.J. Greaves doesn’t trust most people any farther than he can throw them—and I’m not talking about with those magic whips of his.” She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the fire. “There’s Chang. Typically, outside of the clan youth, he doesn’t have much use for people. And yet he liked you from the minute he met you. That mean old bastard who flew us over here could have booted my ass out over the North Atlantic and wouldn’t have lost one minute’s sleep over it. But he likes you.”

“I was polite to him,” she said.

I considered that. “I guess so. You know…you weren’t that polite to me when we first met.”

“Well, you were an asshole. Sometimes, you still are.” Pulling something from her vest, she slid it over her knuckles and tossed me a narrow look. “You should try the polite thing sometime. It does wonder.”

“Smart ass.” I moved closer as she tugged something else from a pocket—she had more gadgets, weapons and supplies tucked away than a Swiss Army knife. “What are you doing?”

“Learning ballet,” she replied flippantly.

I leaned in more and she elbowed me back. “Stop it. You’re crowding me.”

A few seconds later, she had sparks flying and I watched as she blew on those sparks until a small flame appeared. Nudging the tinder closer to the fire, she waited until the kindling caught—that was when she noticed me gaping at her.

“There’s a lighter on the mantle.”

She glanced up and her cheeks turned red. “Ah…I didn’t notice. I’m not used to using them.”

“You’re not used to using a lighter,” I said. Sometimes, she still managed to surprise the hell out of me. “You’re not used to using a lighter but you just made a fire with a flint stone?”

I hadn’t seen that in…my brain stalled on me and started to pound.

Kit didn’t notice. “It’s just a striker and a flint stone.” She held out her hand and displayed a metal device that almost looked like brass knuckles, only it was made of steel and fit over her fingers as a unit rather than her fingers individually. “We had to learn how to build fires this way. It’s what I’m used to.”

Rising, I reached for the lighter on the mantle and flicked it on.

She stared at me over the flame.

I let it go out, did it again, then held it out to her.

With a sigh, she accepted it and after a couple of tries, she had the plastic and metal tool flaming. Once it was lit, she let the flame go out just as quick and turned it back over to me. “It’s wasteful.”

“Wasteful?”

“What happens when it runs out of fuel or if I lose it? It just sits there.” Displaying the metal striker again, she said, “This doesn’t need fuel. I just need it, the flint rock and something to use as tinder. People lit fire this way for centuries. It works for me. And I’m not making more waste.”

She tucked the striker and stone back into some hidden pocket and zipped it, then turned away, moving over to the small sofa to sit. Crossing to her, I hunkered down and reached for her boots when all she did was brace her elbows on her knees and stare at the floor. My right hand was pretty much useless still, although I could feel the deep, itching sort of ache that told me healing was well underway.

“I didn’t think about them coming after me,” she said quietly. “And I should have.”

“It’s not on you, Kit.”

She lifted her gaze and I saw the shimmer of tears. “I killed Rathias. I should have known—”

“You were traumatized and running scared.” Cupping her chin, I said, “It’s not on you.”

Several of those tears slid free as she closed her eyes.

Dipping my head, I kissed them away. Damn that Lilja bitch. Reaching for something to say, anything , I crowded in closer and wrapped my arms around her.

“Nene was Chang’s cousin by marriage.”

Kit went stiff.

Alright, that wasn’t the best distraction I could have come up with.

But the tension ebbed away almost immediately and she wiggled back to look up at me, her eyes soft with sympathy. “You loved her.”

“I did.” The ache of that faded, forgotten love still lived inside me. A whole new rush of anger toward Chang rose and I shoved it down. Under that anger, under that black rage and the creeping dark maw of memory, there was something else.

The part of me that had long ago stopped being afraid was stirring. There was something buried that I wouldn’t want to remember and I had no choice but to face it.

“Whatever Chang did…”

Tension flooded her again and I cocked a brow, waited.

“He had no right to steal memories from you,” she said, voice vibrating. “ None .”

“Probably not.” I laid my hand on her cheek, then swore as pain lashed up my arm, an instantaneous reminder that I couldn’t use my fucking thumb. “You’re a vicious woman sometimes, Kit.”

“You’re not going to distract me,” she said flatly.

“I’m not trying to.” Shifting my hand, I pressed my forefinger to her lower lip. “I went to touch your lip with my thumb—didn’t even think about it. How often do we use our thumbs?”

“All the time.” Her lips twitched.

“Mean,” I told her again. Rising, I sat next to her and hauled her onto my lap. “At least I can still do this.”

She snuggled up next to me, tucking her head under my chin. “How much have you remembered?”

“Large chunks. But there are big pieces still missing. Some of what I remember clearest was meeting Nene as a kid…realizing I had a thing for her. Courting her—it wasn’t called dating then. I hadn’t realized how little I thought of that time. He had something to do with that.”

“He can do that—mess with your mind that way…” She shuddered. “That’s terrifying.”

“It’s not something he’s done often. And it’s a mix of whatever abilities he inherited from his grandfather, combined with some power of suggestion—he’s used it before with people who went through severe trauma, not erasing memories or anything, but helping to blunt the worst of them until the person is emotionally and mentally ready to deal with the pain.” I’d seen him do it only a couple of times in my life. With what I knew of the man who was my father in every way that counted, it only worsened the feeling of dread inside me.

“I guess I can see how that might be…helpful,” Kit said reluctantly. “But even all the shit I’ve been through…even Jude…those are my memories. Part of me. I don’t want anybody screwing with my memories, my thoughts…they’re part of me .”

“Kit.” Cupping her chin, I held her gaze with mine. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But not everybody has that strength—the shit you went through as a kid would have broken a lot of folks. And Jude…” Pain lanced up my forearm, that old rage making my claws stretch inside my skin, itching to slice out. The involuntary reflex put strain on healing tissue. I welcomed it, let it center me and took a deep breath before continuing. “What he did, he meant to break you. But you survived and he didn’t.”

Her mouth twisted in a scowl and I kissed her before she could argue. She didn’t see the strength that was so clear to others.

She sighed as I ended the contact with a quick nip of her lower lip.

Smoothing my hand up her denim-covered thigh, I said, “Now that I’m trying to think about things, more and more memories are working themselves loose, but there are still big gaps. I’ve got these vague memories of being in a bed—we were in one of Chang’s houses, but it wasn’t the village where I’d met Nene. This was in a different part of the country. I was in bed for a long time. We were in the higher elevations. The air was colder, thinner. And I was sick. Weak. Hurting. He was there with me.”

Kit’s hand fisted in my shirt and a haunted expression darkened her eyes. “Something bad happened.”

“Yeah.” I covered her hand with mine. “Knowing Chang, whatever it was, I expect it was fucking horrible. He wouldn’t have done what he did unless he was really worried—either he thought my sanity was at risk, or he thought I’d go after somebody and do something that would get me killed. Or both. I’m getting memories of how he’d look sometimes when he didn’t know I was watching him—the fear on his face…and there’s this one flash that keeps popping up…he’s looking at me like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Whatever happened…I already know I won’t like remembering it, Kit. He’s seen more shit in existence than either of us can possibly imagine.”

“Since his existence kind of predates time, doesn’t that go without saying?”