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“—Placid?” Keaton chuckles, running his hand over his tattooed neck.
I snort. “Yeah, placid.”
“I’ll tell you everything.” He slams his whole drink in one go. “What do you remember about the day you moved?”
“I don’t remember anything about that day,” I whisper, shivering.
“That’s because they didn’t want you to remember,” Killian murmurs from the entry.
I stand, staring at him. “Why?”
His eyes stay on mine, but for the first time since I’ve known Killian and been caught up in this clusterfuck of a life, Kill looks normal. There’s no ulterior motive to his words or even a hidden smirk behind the easy smile.
Killian points to the sofa after looking over his shoulder briefly. “Sit down.”
I do.
Killian walks closer to me, running his hand through his dark hair. “You’ve been getting flashbacks, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, twisting my fingers together on my lap. “I mean, they’re not flashbacks. They’re more feelings and images. Like I remember feeling a certain way and a shed near an ocean. Stuff like that.”
“Good.” Killian’s fingers come to my chin. “When you kissed King, did you get anything else?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I remember dreaming, I think, after he left. Mainly, my flashbacks came whenever you were around.”
Killian smirks. “I figured.”
“You fucking knew?” King’s voice shocks me. I refuse to look at where he’s standing, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my attention. “You knew who she was?”
Killian’s hand stills on my chin. I keep my eyes on Killian.
“Yes,” he answers, glaring over his shoulder. “But not right away. I saw it.”
“Saw fucking what?” King yells, though I still don’t understand his rage. He was about ready to dish me up to his father and mother as a fucking six-course meal.
Killian chuckles, shaking his head. “Saw it between the two of you, fucker. The fucked-up thing is that you didn’t, King. You’re that fucking detached from feeling any kind of emotion that you couldn’t even feel the reason why you switched off those feelings in the first place is standing right in front of you. In the flesh.”
My eyes begin to water, but I swallow them down angrily, not wanting them to spill over my cheeks and expose my vulnerability. Did I feel it with King? I don’t know. I felt something, but I always brought it down to hormones and me being a girl and him being him.
“Give them back to her. Now.” King slides down the wall, landing on his ass.
I finally bring my eyes to his. I wish I didn’t, because I feel my heart split open in my chest and a sob leave my body. His usually somber and stoic expression is filled with turmoil and pain. Regret, maybe? “I’m sorry,” he whispers, reaching for a bottle of scotch and downing it.
I bring my eyes to Killian, ignoring his silent apology. “Give them back to me.”
“Well, I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try. One thing you have to understand, Perse.” King sucks in a hiss on the other side of the room. Killian continues. “Is that along with those memories will come the pain and anguish that was taken from you. My father didn’t remove the memories from your head because that would be some sort of vampire shit. He merely hypnotized you into thinking you did not need them. He put them into a box in the corner of your brain and trained your mind to not open it. But hear this, Little Bird,” Killian’s fingers wrap around my chin, bringing my attention to him, “once this box is opened, everything could come back to you tenfold. You will know, feel, sense things that were put into that box. You may not feel like yourself after.” I want to say that I haven’t felt like myself for a long time, but that would mean I know who I am. Which I don’t.
“I don’t care,” I whisper, swallowing past the pain. “I want it opened.”
“Lie back,” Killian murmurs, and I do, lying on the sofa. Someone enters the room just as Killian’s fingers come to my temple.
“Let me, son. She’ll have a better chance if I do it.”
Killian steps backward, and Keres takes his place. We lock eyes for a second, but before I can say anything, my eyes are rolling to the back of my head, my back arching off the sofa. Images flash before my eyes.
“King! You can’t do that! It’s cheating!” I scolded, reaching for his deck of cards.
“Nah-uh, Little Bird. Kohen is the cheater.”
My eyes flick, my head thrashing from left to right. Keres continues to whisper an ancient language, his tongue wrapping around the dead syllables softly.
“Persephone, you can’t go to the beach house today. I need you to stay home.”
My breathing deepens.
“She can go, Klaus. Stop being so overbearing.” My mom walked toward me, kneeling in front of my face. Her long blonde hair was like a curtain, shadowing over half of her face. “You want to go to the beach house, don’t you, Persephone?” I nodded, excitement shaking inside of me.
