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“Dr. Bomani thinks she can test the theory through memory regression. I might not get everything back, but we could attempt it.”
“You haven’t before?”
She shakes her head.
“That means you had a good reason not to,” I say before she thinks I’m questioning her decision. “Is it dangerous?”
“Shouldn’t be.”
If I hadn’t known her for years, I might’ve missed the tells in her expression that scream she just lied to me—the tightening around her eyes, the tiny tug downward of her lips, the fact she’s staring at the sea hag as if that ugly monster holds the secrets to life. “Yeah, that’s not reassuring. Try telling me the truth this time.”
“It could take a few sessions, or it might not work at all. Dr. Bomani would attempt it at her office. So physically, I’d be safe.”
But mentally she’d be a wreck. I don’t like thinking of her going through that even though it’s literally the reason I met with her as soon as I arrived in Syn City, to force her to cooperate with the investigation. Now the thought makes my stomach twist in a sick feeling that I don’t want to examine too much. “Does this doctor use magic or something?”
“No, we learned the hard way that magic twists things. Kiva had a witch plant false memories that nearly convinced her that her mate had killed her. Dr. Bomani wouldn’t let that happen.”
“You trust this doctor?”
“Kiva does, and she tends to be a harsh judge of people. All of us Furies are…except Dottie.”
The woman would have to be laid back to mate with a freakin’ cat. “Butterfly Wings loves everyone, huh?”
“Pretty much.” She glances at me, and I swear her green eyes take on a shine in this light. “Come with me?”
It takes a full second for the weight of what she’s asking to sink in. “You want me to stay with you in the doctor’s office?”
“Yeah.” Her voice goes rough, and the fact that my strong mate is reduced to near tears—it guts me. She goes back to staring at the water. “If it helps with the investigation, great. If not, then we’ll both know. Either way, you should be there. We both could use the closure as Dr. Bomani would say.”
Which is how I find myself in a shrink’s office the next day for the first time outside of visits required by the marshal’s office. Those happened in a beige-walled office with no windows, a cheap aluminum table, and two chairs that wouldn’t be missed if a shifter went ballistic and destroyed everything in the room. A consultant would ask questions from a form, follow up with the standard do you want to talk about that, and either sign off on our fitness for duty or commit us to a lockdown facility. We marshals don’t work with partners so I didn’t care about the low standards, especially when it allowed me to avoid topics like my family.
But now, in a welcoming room with wide windows that have sunlight streaming through, couches and chairs that might be someone’s living room, and a cozy setup for tea and coffee that could be grandma’s house—if grandma wasn’t a big, bad wolf—I’m glad Sadie has a professional to talk with who seems to have a genuine interest in her wellbeing.
The doc gives me a pointed look and says, “You can stay as long as she’s comfortable with that arrangement. The moment Sadie changes her mind, you’re out, marshal or not. Don’t speak unless asked. This isn’t your session.”
I sink into a chair so plush that I would fall asleep if my every nerve wasn’t pinging from an adrenaline rush. The doctor looks human. Yet she doesn’t smell like it. Below the scents of lemons and fabric softener, I get an overwhelming hit of feline.
At first, I wonder if the subtle artwork featuring lions on the throw pillows, the rug, and an abstract painting has tricked my senses. But no…the cat scent’s coming from the brown-skinned woman with black hair shot through with enough grey to make me think she’s in her fifties. Or she would be if she was human. Staring at her doesn’t go over well. No matter that her gaze has been pinned on Sadie, she gives me a look that says to stop studying her and pay attention to her patient.
“Nolan’s fairly harmless,” Sadie tells her. “Except when he picked on me mercilessly after my fifteenth birthday.”
“Fifteen, hmm?” The next glance the doctor shoots my way says she knows exactly why my attitude toward Sadie changed. “He’s a wolf marshal so while he’s not as dangerous as you, I’m sure he knows how to do more than shoot that gun he shouldn’t be wearing in Syn City.”
“I’ve told him that,” Sadie says on a sigh, but at least she’s not poking at the fifteenth birthday thing.
I replay the doc’s words in my mind. She acknowledges the threat I present with my training and my shifter strength and speed yet she believes Sadie’s the bigger badass. While I haven’t seen her fight, she has always been tough, and I like knowing she can defend herself. The vigilante side of her wanting to take on her killer? I’m less thrilled about that.
“I’m sure you have.” Dr. Bomani has a soothing voice, one that could coax an injured pup out of hiding. But she doesn’t patronize. “What changed your mind about looking into your past?”
“Talking to Nolan. He says I fought whoever killed me. I don’t remember that.”
“And you believe him?” The doc tosses out the accusation that I could’ve lied so casually that it’s hard to get mad about it. Worse, I need to hear Sadie’s answer.
“Yes.” She glances at me. “He might not have spared my feelings in the past, and he doesn’t always tell the whole truth, but he hasn’t lied to me.” Crossing one black-clad leg over the other in a swish of fabric and slide of leather as those fuck me stiletto boots slip one against the other, she focuses on the doctor again. “How do we do this? Can I stay sitting up or do I have to lie on the couch? Are you going to hypnotize me?”
“Stay as you are if you like. Or move around if you need to.” The doctor waves her hand toward the open space behind the couch. “I don’t practice the Freudian techniques so there will be no hypnosis. First, you tell me the facts as you remember them now in as much detail as you can provide.”
“And then?” Sadie asks.
