“They must have planted part of a false memory,” Viv said, and Gia jumped. She’d forgotten the vampire completely. “Giving you something to remember is less suspicious than a complete hole.”
Sure. Fine. But knowing Viv had been in her head, Gia wanted to get as far away from her as she could. “Can you see what I’m remembering?”
“No,” Viv said more gently than Gia thought she was capable of. “I can see evidence of the hypnosis well enough to undo it, but I can’t see what I’m uncovering. Do you want me to keep going?”
Gia nodded, marginally reassured.
“I’ll try my best to work from oldest to newest. Unless there’s a time you want me to focus on?”
Gia’s heart sank, and it had been pretty low to begin with. “There’s a lot missing, isn’t there?”
Viv grimaced. “I’ve never seen someone with such a heavily altered mind.”
Aurora made a small, pained sound. “I’m so sorry, Gia.”
She wanted to fall into Aurora, kick everyone out of the room, and talk to her alone, share all of her frantic thoughts, askwhy, even when she didn’t expect an answer. But she couldn’t be derailed from her task, or she might never return to it.
“Can we uncover the first memory blackout?” she asked Viv. “Is that the next oldest one? Can you tell?”
Viv fixed her gaze on Gia, eyes glowing as her vampire power flared. “There’s a tangle of altered memories before we get to the first complete erasure.”
The holes in Gia’s memory loomed like wraiths, threatening to drag her down. She needed them gone, even if she didn’t want to know. But things already didn’t make sense. There was no reason to make it harder for herself by jumping around and targeting her first blackout if there was more to uncover from her younger days.
“Is it possible to uncover things in chronological order?”
Viv promised to do her best and brought Gia into a trancelike state, her glowing eyes blurring and fading away, the rest of the office melting along with them.
Scenes flashed before Gia. Franco talking about what happened in the park. Mentions of Jeffrey that she’d caught while men talked around her. Franco discussing a new strategy to advance his position in the organization. Memories of her mother. The day she met Jeffrey. All the times he’d popped into her childhood before that fateful day.
So many little details had been smoothed out and replaced with mundane alternatives. It was a thorough cover-up, and a small miracle that any hint of Jeffrey Lockwood had escaped the purge. If Gia hadn’t made a habit of listening outside doors undetected, she wouldn’t have had a single clue.
As the memories unfurled, Gia got progressively older. The only constant was Franco, a figure on the periphery of each scene, but never the direct focus. He didn’t address Gia at all until one memory surfaced. This was no longer something altered, but a picture she knew in her gut had been completely erased.
Gia:Ten Years Old.
She saton a hard chair in a huge, unfamiliar, empty room, Franco in front of her, his eyes glowing orange.
“Gianna, my dear, it’s time to get started.”
“I don’t want?—”
“Don’t speak,” Franco ordered, and her words clogged in her throat. “Don’t move,” he added.
And Gia couldn’t. It was as if Franco’s words held her spellbound, controlling her. She couldn’t even lift a pinky or shake her head. Dread settled over her, almost as potent as the bone-deep confusion that plagued her ever since they got here.
“Don’t worry. You won’t remember,” Franco said blandly, flicking open a pocket knife. “Hold out your hand.”
She desperately wanted to disobey. To run away and never return. But the strange power held her without mercy, and her hand was drawn out in front of her, like it belonged to someone else.
Franco cut her palm, and she screamed.
“Silence!”
Gia’s voice shriveled. What was happening to her? Why were her father’s eyes glowing? Was this a dream?Please let it be a dream.Please let me wake up.
She didn’t wake.
Franco swiped at her bloody palm with a finger and brought it to his mouth, opening wide. Sharp fangs that Gia had never seen before caught the light. The urge to scream had her wanting to crawl out of her skin, but Franco’s commands held firm. She couldn’t make a sound or move a muscle. All she could do was watch as Franco put his finger in his mouth, tasting her blood.
