My stomach sinks as I look at the debris around me, as the truth of the matter settles into my bones. There were plenty of memories with him inside of them, but none as C. None as the monster that ruined my life.
She didn’t know.
I pull the filaments of my influence back into myself, shame burning my soul. At what I had said. What I had done. Who I had been in those terrible, ugly moments.
She opened a gaping wound in her heart to me, and I had done the unthinkable. I became the monster she always feared I was.
Her eyelids are dusky pink, lined with delicate veins. I stroke my fingers across the contours of her cheekbone. So soft.
So pale. She should be awake by now.
Her chest rises and falls. Her pulse thrums slowly, steadily under the pads of my fingers.
“Kaye?” I brush her hair back from her face. “Wake up, Kaye.”
Not a muscle twitches in her face at the sound of her name. Her breathing neither slows nor quickens. It’s as though she’s asleep, but even in sleep I would expect to see her eyes dart within their lids as she dreams. While she shows all the vital signs of life, it’s as though there’s nothing within her to wake. Nothing.
“Kaye!” I take her by the shoulders, shaking her gently with sweating palms. A bolt of panic shoots through me, like fire racing scorching my nerves. “Please.”
A grief I haven’t felt in years roars inside my chest, tightening my lungs. I place my palm over her heart, and pour my power into her chest, until I’m there in her mind again. Among the tattered remains of empty dreams and memories, there’s a small spark, glowing blue and brilliant, that wasn’t there before.
So gently that she wouldn’t even feel the touch, I pick up the sphere of that spark. So faint. So delicate. I press my face to it, inhale the soft, sweet scent of lilac on a summer day, feel the texture of silky fur brush between my fingers and cat ears poking up against my palm.
Apollo.
No other piece of her remains.
The serum.
Pulling back into myself, I swallow against the pain building up my throat.
Oh God! What have I done?
What have I done?
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, and the pain inside builds up into a visceral thing. Folding Kaye against my chest, I release the first sob against the soft tendrils of her hair.
She didn’t know.
I destroyed her.
I didn’t mean to—I didn’t…
Katerina Grace. Checkmate. My beautiful, fierce, strong, stubborn adversary. Friend, foe, ally, love. After nearly half a decade of fighting on opposite sides of this city, I asked her to believe in me. Put her faith in me. And she did. For four incredible months.
I ruined it. Took her trust, her faith, and used it to tear her to shreds.
I’m the worst kind of monster. No. Monster is too good a word for me.
Predator. I hunted through her mind like a predator.
But maybe—just maybe—it’s not too late.
Kaye still hasn’t woken by the time the GT-R pulls up to Our Lady of Sacred Redemption. I checked her mind at every red light on the way here, and more and more glowing blue orbs have been there each time. The mind is resilient, capable of healing itself of injuries and traumas.
The problem is memories are stored through connections and only the person who lived them knows what they are. A song or band might remind you of a particular stage of your life. The smell of apples could make you think of the first time you baked a pie with your grandmother. That first touch of September air might take you right back to the feeling of the first day of school.
There are no connections to anchor Kaye’s memories. No path to link present and past.
