Page 322 of Dragon Slayer

He sensed when she woke, but she didn’t say anything for long minutes, just breathing against his collarbone, warm, still-sleepy puffs. His hand moved of its own volition, unhurried strokes down her back, fingertips playing in the dip of her spine.

Finally, she stirred, the cold sole of one foot sliding down his shin. She shifted back far enough to tip her head and meet his gaze; he’d been watching her peaceful face for hours now, and he was sad to see her wake for the sake of her tiredness, but glad for the warm, forest green of her eyes.

“Hello, love.”

“Mm. Hey, baby.” She yawned, unselfconscious. Pressed her face into the hollow of his throat and sighed. “What time is it?”

The numbers on the bedside table clock glowed green. “Six-fifty.”

She hummed; he felt the vibration in his teeth.

“Go back to sleep if you want.”

“Nah.” She slipped a hand up his ribs. Played idly with his nipple, hard and tight in the chill of the AC. “We should probably get moving.”

They probably should. The more miles they put between themselves and the Institute, the better. Doubtless their new master would have some idea of where he wanted to go – Fulk envisioned a furious, pale-eyed vampire in a black coat, and a tow-headed, gentle-sweet wolf.

But exhaustion dragged at him. How easy it would be to bury his nose in her hair, close his eyes, and pretend nothing pressing awaited them.

“He’ll want to go to New York,” Anna said, voice wide-awake now. Low and warm against his skin.

“Yeah?”

“You know he will.”

“Yeah.”

They’d been there before, of course, because they’d been everywhere. The glaring, manmade light drowning out the stars; too many scents and sounds to catalogue, a kind of insulation of white noise around them. Cold iron bars of fire escapes and a too-fast pulse; a shared mug of whiskey passed back and forth in the wee hours, and rainy afternoons tucked into the corners of delightfully messy bookshops.

It was easy to get lost in New York. Easy for someone abnormal to fade into the tapestry. Who could dwell on the yawning maw of forever when the city too busy to sleep pulsed around you like a second heartbeat?

He pulled her in closer to him. “I’m okay with New York.”

~*~

A crew of employees pushed carts through the hotel’s dining room, unloading baskets of muffins, and bagels, and pastries; igniting the warmers under the chafing dishes and toting out eggs, and bacon, and sausage. Kolya sat alone at a table by the window, both hands wrapped around a steaming cup of black coffee. The heat and the smell were soothing; he hadn’t added cream or sugar because he had no idea if that’s how he took his coffee – Liam and Lily had never offered him any, and he couldn’t remember frombefore.

Remembering was…difficult.

Some things were clear. The timeafter. His first awareness was of pain, and of light. The sense of being layered together from ash and electricity. He’d opened his eyes to a gray sky; his lungs had opened, and he’d known how to breathe. Instinct. A scraped-raw throat, and eerie, bloodless hands he’d used to reach up, up, out of the dark pit in which he’d lain.

The first faces he’d seen belonged to the Prices. Liam, with his copper hair, and laughing eyes, and narrow face. And Lily, worried but lovely, her hair a mane of fire down her back.Kolya, Liam had said. That was his name. And it had felt right.

But it was the only thing that had.

He’d been a grown man with no memory of childhood. He couldn’t recall his mother’s face, or his childhood friends. Couldn’t remember his job, or his death. The kind of man he’d been.

What was a person without memories? Was it even a person at all?

They’d taken him into a city that frightened him. He had no memories, but this felt wrong. The cars, the buildings, all the lights.

“How long was I dead?” he’d asked in his ruined voice.

Liam had taken a careful sip of his tea and set his cup down slow, face warm with apology. “Seventy-five years.”

“Oh.”

“Your memories will begin to return in time. That’s at least been my experience with this sort of thing. Some will return naturally – gradually. And others will be jolted to the surface by some stimulus. In time, you will remember exactly who you are. But until then, I think it’s best if you stayed close with us. We’ll be going to America soon, and you’ll need to learn to speak English.”

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