Page 59 of Barely Breathing

As my mind clears, the feeling of being held by her becomes awkward. She releases my nose, and I push up to sit against the wall. She drops her hand and adjusts her tangled legs to a more ladylike position before moving to stand.

“What did you see?” Astrid asks, reaching to pull me to my feet.

My legs feel disconnected from my body. “How do you know I saw something?”

She arches a brow and hooks my arm to lead me toward the living room.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Chester? Red lights?” I close my eyes, scared to pry too deep for fear it might start again. “The shipping office?”

“The shipping office,” Astrid repeats, frowning. We continue walking slowly together. My feet shuffle on the floor.

I open my eyes. “I know it doesn’t make sense. Chester was never at the shipping office, but it feels like I lived… Costin.”

“Costin?”

I sigh. “I think he must have erased a memory.”

Anothermemory.

“Of the Freemonts and the shipping yard?” she clarifies, bringing me to the couch to sit down.

I see dots of blood on her blouse. My blood.

I touch my nose. It’s stopped bleeding. “Chester, at least.”

“Has that vampire done this to you before?” Astrid puts her hands on her hips, not sitting next to me. Her expression frosts over, and I know that I cannot refuse to answer truthfully.

I nod again, feeling very much like the little kid caught doing something wrong.

“Tell me exactly what you remember,” she orders.

I sink back into the couch, pressing my fingers against my temples as if I can physically pull the memory into place. “Just Chester and our shipping yard. Red warning lights. The sound of those enchanted security chains. You know, the ones that used to be there. I think they took them out because they kept attacking gnomes or something—I can’t…” The images spiral away like leaves in a whirlwind, leaving only the residue of terror behind. “Maybe I dreamed it?”

“Perhaps you should rest. You look pale.” Astrid’s tone carries a hard edge beneath the concern. “The tea?—”

“No.” The word comes out sharper thanintended. “No more tea. No more forced sleep. I need to focus. Diana is missing, Paul is captured, and the Freemonts...” I struggle as the kaleidoscope of fractured memories threatens to return. “They’re working with the werewolves. They have been for years. I don’t know how I know that, but it feels true in my bones. The Freemonts, Costin’s sister, and the wolves... this all has something to do with them. And blood and moonlight.”

Astrid sets her phone on the coffee table with deliberate care. “Slow down. You’re mumbling your words.”

“It’s like...” I rub my temples and search for words to describe the sensation. “Like trying to catch reflections in a broken mirror. Every time I think I see the whole picture, it shatters into something else. There are too many pieces.”

How many times? How many memories did Costin take from me?

I want so badly to trust him, but the evidence keeps coming back to all these secrets that feel like lies.

“There are spells, but they are painful and complicated,” Astrid says carefully. “The easiest route is for him to tell us what he erased.”

“I can handle pain,” I answer, needing to know the truth. I hope it’s true. “Do what you need to.”

Astrid shakes her head. “No. Even if you were tosurvive the magic needed, you wouldn’t come out the other end the same.”

“So we’ll confront him tonight.” I lean my head back on the couch. “Have you heard from Anthony about Diana? Is he still in Kansas City?”

“Diana is not there. The grandparents are in the hospital. They were severely attacked, and the police are working under the assumption that they’re dealing with a kidnapping home invasion scenario.” Astrid doesn’t sugarcoat it. “They had also reported their son missing when he did not call to check on his daughter, which initiated a wellness check. I told Anthony to manage the situation in Kansas City for us before coming home. We do not need the humans meddling in our affairs. Our fixers are handling the police locally. The investigation into Paul will be closed.”

I don’t know what to say.

“Are the Cannons…?” I think of the nice man I met in that other timeline. Paul’s father was a kind and loving soul.

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