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I’d have gotten more than a split-second of satisfaction out of that realization if Jin’s expression hadn’t tightened in the same moment.
“The memories,” he said. “You said it’s like you’re back there. Like they totally overwhelm what you should be seeing—and hearing, and feeling—in front of you?”
Seth gave him a curious look. “Yeah. It’s only happened a couple of times like that. Why?”
“The same thing happened to me a few days ago, seeing the fire in the gallery. It’s part of the reason I agreed to go ahead and do this exhibit.”
An icy trickle ran through my gut, deepening as Ky nodded slowly. “I’ve had a couple of moments like that too. Weird. I wonder if it’s just something about it being a whole year now.”
Gabriel glanced around the table. “If it hasn’t been happening before now and it’s affecting at least the three of you, you should probably bring it up with Rose as soon as she’s back. It sounds like it could be some sort of magical effect.”
It did, didn’t it? All starting so recently… since around the time my scar had really been acting up.
But I hadn’t cast any of its energy toward the guys. The vivid memories could be happening simply because I’d pushed them in a completely non-supernatural way to confront the stuff from the past they’d been suppressing. It didn’t sound as if what they’d experienced had hurt them any.
Gabriel turned his bright gaze on me. “Have you had anything hit you like that, Damon?”
Had I? I thought of the echoes of my mom’s insults when I’d been fixing her sink… the impressions I’d gotten of the guys’ unsettled emotions around the table that other night… but none of those sounded like what Seth, Jin, and Ky were talking about.
I shook my head. “Sounds like something that might just pass.”
“Yeah. We can hope so.”
When I’d gulped down the rest of my dinner as fast as humanly possible, I wandered out back away from the guys and stood in the darkness at the edge of the garden. The sweet floral smells of the summer blooms barely registered in my mind. Mr. Hallowell’s words were echoing there too loudly.
Your only real hope is to figure out what they want and give it to them as swiftly as you’re able to.
What did the demons want from me, after all? I thought I’d been denying them. I couldn’t bethatwrong, could I?
I rubbed my arm through my shirt. The mark wasn’t prickling at all right now. Rose’s dad had only wanted to make me doubt myself. Rose had taken so many risks for us—how could I give this power up when I could still do so many things for her with it? I’d screwed up a little today, but that was understandable while I was still getting the hang of it.
If Rose checked out the other guys and decided some power had been acting onthem, I’d tell her everything immediately. But if I hadn’t been affecting them in any unexpected ways… I could take a little more time to get my act together. I owed her that much.
Chapter Ten
Gabriel
“Thanks again,” said the buyer I’d found for the Jaguar as she got into the driver’s seat. The woman looked like a female version of Rose’s father, poised and cool, so the purchase seemed fitting.
I raised my hand to her in farewell. “Glad to have done business with you.”
She drove out, the gate clanged shut behind her, and I was left in the hot mid-afternoon sun. I ambled along the garage’s car ports to my next—and final—sales project. Rose had asked me to find new homes for three of her father’s vehicles: the Bentley I’d seen off a few days ago, the Jag now gone, and the Audi currently parked at the end of the row. It’d been easier to focus on the advertisements and vetting buyers one at a time.
When that last one sold, I wasn’t sure how Rose would handle the garage staff. She’d only have the Buick she preferred to drive, the other guys’ vehicles, and my Triumph around. I’d already taken over as the garage manager for the estate late last year, but there were still a couple of assistants who came around part time because Rose hadn’t wanted to leave all the work to me. There wouldn’t be anywhere near enough work for even one guy once most of the classic cars with their specialized needs were gone.
I turned around to head back to my apartment, and my feet stalled against the asphalt. A tall, angular figure was standing by the port that held Jin’s Honda, wiping his oil-stained hands on a rag, his jaw shadowed with a familiar hint of a ruddy beard.
Dad.
My heart lurched, and the image vanished. I swiped my hand over my eyes, but no one was standing there at all. The assistants weren’t on the property today anyway. My mind was pulling tricks on me.
I hesitated there for a moment longer as if he might reappear, might actuallybehere. As if I didn’t know with every particle of my being how impossible that was. When nothing came but a waft of warm wind with the scent of freshly mown grass, I propelled myself into motion.
By the time I’d climbed the narrow steps to the garage-top apartment, my pulse had just about evened out from the strange vision. I stepped into the living room—and the rich smell of dark roast coffee flooded my nose. A spoon clinked in a mug.Black with one sugar; can’t get better than that.
The voice seeped up distantly from my memory, but there was nothing distant about that smell or the sound or the form ambling into the doorway, eyes crinkling with the fond smile I’d only ever seen aimed at me. My heart stuttered all over again. Dad gave me an encouraging nod as he raised his mug to his lips, and with the next blink of my eyes, he and every trace of him wisped away as if they’d never existed.
Fuck. Was this what the other guys had been talking about—the overwhelming memories that had hit them out of nowhere? They hadn’t mentioned seeing just a single person, but I’d definitely never experienced an echo of the past anywhere near that vivid.
