Page 63 of Barely Breathing

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know. There was no time for me to see everything before I suppressed them. I don’t know everything that happened that night.”

“Then give me back the memories you have stolen.”

“It will hurt,” he warns.

“Then let them hurt. Let me choose what risks to take.” I keep my hand against him. “Let me decide what I can handle.”

“The girl has dragon fire in her veins now.” Astrid’s voice cuts through our private moment like a blade. She hasn’t moved from her chair, but her presence fills the room. “Whatever you’re protecting her from, she’s faced worse. Show her.”

“Constantine, please.” I touch the amulet. “I’m protected now. They can’t kill me.”

“Death comes in many forms, and the stone can’t stop them all,” he whispers, and I see the war in his eyes. The need to protect me battles with his desire to trust. His gaze lingers on the amulet before trailing up to my face. Finally, he nods. “If I do this, there’s no going back. It won’t be like the last memory with Robert in the Devine library. Thatmemory I carried. This one I suppressed. Do you understand the difference? I can’t stop the pain once it starts. What you’ll remember will change things.”

I catch his wrist as he tries to pull away, stopping him. I sense him trembling slightly. “Everything’s already changing.”

“You have to take off the amulet,” he warns. “Draakmar can’t protect you from this part. His magic will interfere.”

The amulet flares hot against my chest, warning me not to do it.

I hesitate before nodding. “I need to know.”

I lift the necklace over my head and push it into my jeans pocket.

Costin’s thumb traces my lower lip, and I feel the familiar pull of his power. The firelight dims, causing shadows to gather around us. Books rattle on the shelves, the pages noisily trying to escape as if desperate to be read. I glance up at them. They must be reacting to the pull of his magic.

“As you wish.” He leans to kiss me softly. Blood trickles out of my nose. Shadows rush over me, bringing with them an intense agony.

Pain shoots through me from his mouth, exploding inside my head like someone is beating the back of my skull with a hammer. The taste of copper floods my mouth, mixing with his kiss. I try to cry out for him to stop, but the sound catches inmy throat. I can’t run from it or fight back. The magic holds me trapped between memory and reality. The blood spills faster from my nose, hot against my lips.

I hear Astrid’s voice as if from the bottom of a well. “Be careful. If you kill her by bringing this memory back, Constantine, there won’t be anywhere in this world you can hide from me.”

My ears pop like balloons bursting underwater, taking with it all external noise. Blood runs from my ears down my neck, soaking into my cardigan. The library blurs and fragments. Books appear to be falling like stone walls crumbling into darkness. I feel my legs give out, the muscles turning to jelly. Costin’s hands keep me propped up even as my arms fall limp at my sides.

And then, all I register is the shipping yard’s smell of salt water and diesel fuel. The darkness and pain pull me into the memory of that forgotten night.

Chapter

Seventeen

Devine Shipping Offices, Nine Years Ago…

The night air carries the scent of salt and diesel as I walk along the edge of Red Hook, Brooklyn. The supernatural port is a far cry from Manhattan, where my family keeps a penthouse, though I’ve heard worry of gentrification cleaning up the neighborhood. My parents never let Conrad and I come here as kids. They said it was too dangerous for mortals. I think they still believe that, as it took a lot of convincing to give me this job at my father’s shipping company.

To human eyes, this stretch of waterfront is a study in urban decay where abandoned warehouses loom against the dark sky, their broken windows like empty eye sockets warning people to stay away. Chain link fences topped with razorwire warn trespassers to keep out of the crumbling docks. That doesn’t stop the occasional vagrant from trying to sneak in. They never make it far. I’ve been told there are rumors amongst the homeless populations that a serial killer takes victims here or that there are monsters or ghosts. One of those I know to be true. I suspect two.

Hell, maybe all three. I mean, it’s possible we have a haunting.

I rub my arms and glance around to make sure I’m not being followed.

Even the police don’t look too closely when patrolling. Their eyes slide right past, part courtesy of old magic worked into the very foundations of this place, part my family’s generous contributions to their various funds. Bribes is too dirty of a word for fine society, but that’s what they are. They’re bribes. Money can hide a lot of secrets.

I press my palm against the scanner hidden in a graffiti-covered wall. It’s a combination of biometrics and magic. The glamour ripples to let me pass. I step inside to reveal the true face of Devine Shipping’s supernatural port. Merfolk security guards patrol the underwater perimeter, their powerful tails leaving phosphorescent trails in the dark water. Enchanted chains hang between reinforced pylons, clinking soft warning songs when anything unauthorized approaches. If that doesn’t work, theyattack like vines, entwining and strangling anything that tries to pass.

We don’t talk about the dead gnome worker found hanging one morning. I didn’t see much, but his little hand was still clutching a beer bottle when they took him away.

Above me, gargoyles perch on the warehouse corners. I never see them move. I’m told they’re not just decorative stones but rather living guardians with claws and eyes that track movement. I’m not worried about them. I’m used to being around enchanted and dangerous things.

The above-water dock stretches into the harbor, its wooden planks inscribed with runic symbols that glow a faint blue under my feet. I know the ones to step over as they send an uncomfortable tingle up my leg when I press against them.

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