But with this vague mystery and the ticking clock of the Wake’s awareness, she wasn’t sure she saw a way to get there.
When Nicole’s fingers met the cool, elaborate handle of the Muse’s forgotten townhouse and pulled it shut, the snick of the lock sounded too much like the breaking of a neck.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dylan
‘OH, HEY.’ REMI PULLED A THIN, SILKY SCARFFROM AROUNDher throat as she came back into the dining room in Kyan’s townhouse.
Dylan shifted in his chair. It creaked beneath him. Sweat had begun to mist down his back. He told himself it was the heat of the city – despite the cool in the townhouse – rather than the tapping dread at what he’d have to do.
Again.
They’d been about to begin another memory session. Bells was standing in front of him and tried to immediately dispel any tension.
‘Hi,’ she said with an uncertain smile.
‘What’s this?’ Remi asked, gesturing to their tense trio.
‘They’re memory mining,’ Callum said from where he leaned against the wall, his long legs crossed at the ankles, watchful and infuriating.
‘Right, to find out about your mum,’ Remi said, coming furtherinside.
‘Where’s Nicole?’ Dylan asked. ‘How’d it go?’
Remi sighed. ‘Oh, it was interesting. Full of riddles, so Nicole went to the gallery. You know what she’s like when she gets stuck. Don’t worry, Kyan’s tailing her from a distance. So, how does this work?’
Bells glanced at him warily. ‘Er – well, Dylan tries to remember that night and I touch his temples to See what he’s seeing. But we’ve had … some trouble.’
Dylan shifted. His jeans suddenly felt too tight around his thighs, as if his body was getting ready to run. ‘If by trouble you mean it isn’t working, then yeah.’
Their father re-entered with a tray from Biróg – a calming tea she said might help. ‘Remi, your mum said she went to check in on the Speakeasy location. She’ll be back later.’
‘You can take the mum out of security …’ Remi’s full lips pulled into a thoughtful moue. ‘Do you want me to help?’
Dylan tried to focus on her and not his sticking pulse. ‘How?’
‘A kind of hypnotism, I suppose. If part of your body’s in fight-or-flight and rebelling against the memory, my voice can help you relax. Then Bells can See easier.’
Remi held the back of a dining chair, eyes gentle.
Callum watched silently.
Dylan hated that there was an audience to the worst memory of his life.
Remembering the face of their mother’s killer could be key to keeping them all safe. He knew that, even if the most vulnerable part of him never wanted to see or experience it again.
But the Wake knew about Nicole. He had to push. For her. For all of them.
‘All right. Okay.’
They settled into position: Bells behind him and Remi across. His father stood to the left which meant Dylan was gazing at Remi as Bells’ cool fingers touched his temples.
He tried not to flinch.
‘Show us what you remember,’ Remi said.
She must have been practising in her time away, because her Siren tone was low and smooth and it was—
