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“Serge, I—”
“Let me finish. One night, you were with her when the Shades came.”
“Shades?” The creatures were few, thankfully, as they survived entirely on darkness. To task a Shade was no small matter.
“They bound you in hematite, and they took Sara’s memories.”
Icy fear crept over Luke. Fear, and the first, faint whispers of memory.
“And mine? They took mine next?” He knew they must have, as he remembered none of this. At least not until moments ago as Serge told the story.
“No. They let you keep them.”
Luke shook his head, frowning. “But—”
“You summoned the Shades yourself a year later. You were miserable. You wouldn’t feed. You were weak. Lovesick,” he said. “Who knew a vampire could feel emotions so deeply?”
Luke knew. And despite his words, Luke knew that Serge did as well.
“I had them take my memories.” He closed his eyes, flashes of that year coming back to him. The fight behind a coffee shop, saving Sara from a vampire. The two of them in her bed. The young vampires attacking in her kitchen. “I remember. By the gods, I remember.”
Serge’s brows rose. “Interesting.”
“You recounting this to me must break the spell.”
“Perhaps.” Serge tilted his head, considering. “There are some who believe the Shades’ gifts don’t fully work on a vampire. It is an interesting question to ponder. But that’s for another day. My only point was to say that this connection you feel to Sara Constantine is real. You once called it love. Perhaps it is. Or perhaps love is nothing more than an illusion, and you two are walking a circular path, lost in the heat of a mirage.”
* * *
Luke took a few moments to gather himself as Serge went to get Tasha from the room he’d made ready for her. She slid into view, as graceful as a dancer crossing a stage.
“Are you coming,” she asked, facing the camera with a pout, her auburn curls framing her lovely round face that still retained the air of childlike innocence.
“Not yet,” he told her. “Serge will watch over you until I get there. Do you understand?”
“But you can come, too. Fast. Fast as the wind. Faster, even.”
“I can’t. Not right now. I need to take care of things first.”
“I can be the wind. Let me come home to you.”
“You know you’re not able. And even if you could, it wouldn’t be safe for you here. Stay with Serge. I’ll be there soon.”
She swayed, as if in time to music that was only in her head. “They say the neon lights are bright on Broadway,” she sang. “But there’s no magic, Lucius. I wanted there to be magic.”
“You’re in San Francisco, Tash. And I’ll be there soon to get you, and we’ll move on.” He watched her expression turn into a pout, but she nodded. “Yes, Lucius.”
“I need to go, but I’ll be there soon.”
She nodded. “Where did you go?”
“I need to go now,” he clarified. “I need to end the call.”
“Before,” she said. “Where did you go before?”
He frowned, not understanding.
“Last night,” she said. “I saw you. You were with him, and then you weren’t. I thought you would come home, but you didn’t. Was it her? The one you’ve watched for so long?”
