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I rubbed my forehead wearily and battled to keep that scream inside. At least some information was slowly leaking back. I had two more names now: Rhoan and Liander. They were a part of me - not just a part of my life. I felt that with every fiber.
Which meant one of them, at least, was my brother.
Rhoan, that little voice whispered. My brother, my twin.
I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath and released it slowly. I was tempted to ask Harris to do a search for him, but instinct said not to. Harris was right - whoever was behind this plot had planned it thoroughly. If Rhoan was my brother, then any official search for him might just raise alarms. Hell, even if I found his phone number, just ringing him might lead to more drastic action. Like his death.
That voice had said that he wanted me to suffer. And what better way was there to achieve that than to wipe my memories, take me away from everything and everyone I loved, then slowly allow those memories to come back - only to have each and every one I cared about murdered the moment I contacted them?
It would be his style. Whoever "he" was.
But first things first. I needed to find my brother's location, either through Google or the old-fashioned way, via the White Pages - and at least looking through a phone book would leave nothing to trace.
I could decide what my next step should be once I'd found him.
"You're looking rather lost in your thoughts," Harris commented, and the sudden sound of his voice made me jump. I'd totally forgotten he was there for a moment. "Care to share?"
"Just remembering some names." I shrugged. "Their relationship to me, however, remains tantalizingly lost in the fog."
He grunted, and I wasn't entirely sure he believed me. "You ready to leave?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I have a choice?"
Again a slight smile tugged his lips. "No, you do not." He waved a hand toward the doorway. "After you, Hanna London."
I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn't my name, then snapped it closed. My name was there, I could feel it, but it just wouldn't reveal itself.
Patience, I reminded myself.
Only I had a suspicion patience was the one thing I didn't have a lot of.
I made my way through the house and out the back. Harris closed and locked the door behind us, then turned around and said, "I won't find you inside again, will I?"
I smiled, but my reply was cut off by the sudden sound of screaming.
Screaming that was male and filled with fear.
Screaming that was cut off almost as quickly as it had begun.
Chapter 11
"Stay here," Harris said, barely even looking at me as he ran off.
I snorted softly. Like I was really going to obey that order when I hadn't obeyed any of his others so far.
I took off after him, our footsteps ringing sharply across the darkness. The wind remained free from the scent of blood, but the taste of fear was growing sharper.
We rounded the last of the buildings and turned in to the paddock area where Landsbury had been attacked and killed. The young policeman was still at his post, but he was staring at the emptiness beyond the hills. He looked relieved when he saw Harris.
"Sir," he said, voice a little strained, "there's some sort of kerfuffle out in the Northern Ranges."
"Did you see anything or anyone, Benny?" Harris asked.
"No, sir. Just heard the screaming."
Harris nodded and ran on. I followed close on his heels. We raced out of the paddock area into a sandier, wilder area, sprinting up a hill. Harris paused at the top, and I stopped beside him, my nostrils flaring to catch any hint of blood or vengeance or any other scent that didn't belong. None of those rode the wind, but the smell of fear was thicker.
"There," Harris said, pointing sharply to the left.
