Page 406 of Shadowblood Souls
A tingle shoots through my eyes, and I careen into a memory.
Riding a bike—a glance down at childishly skinny knees pumping away—adrenaline rushing through her body—hair whipping back from her face as she veers around a turn in the sloping road?—
I jerk my attention away to latch on to some other target.
A classroom, university from the look of the students—a professor droning on while pointing to a projected map at the front of the room—Toni’s pen hissing diligently over the page in her notebook?—
On to the next.
A darkened room, fancy furnishings like the villa but with a more modern feel—picking her way through a mess on the floor that’s a mix of broken glass, puddles of what looks and smells like wine, and torn strips of fabric that might have once been clothing—stance tensed as she tilts her head, listening… for what?
I hold my focus there, intrigued and unnerved. What the hell happened there? What does it have to do with the woman Balthazar trusts?
Does it have anything to do with the man himself or her reasons for working for him?
The past Toni I’m inhabiting edges farther forward, and a ragged wail splits the air from somewhere deeper in the building, beyond her view. She straightens up and?—
The memory shatters. I sway forward, blinking hard to reorient myself to the pale morning light and the peacefulness of the just-waking villa.
Toni has marched out of sight. As soon as I lost my view of her head, I fell right out of her mind.
I grimace. There’s no guarantee I’ll ever find my way back to that specific memory.
Then again, there’s no guarantee it’s anything at all useful to us anyway.
With no further reason to stay hidden in the sitting room, I slip out into the hall and make my way toward the spiral staircase of the eastern wing that’ll take me back to the bedrooms. The sun has brightened outside, so the others will be up soon if they’re not already.
I hesitate as I come up on the drawing room where we spoke to Balthazar—our one and only meeting with the man so far, if you can even call it a meeting when he never entered the room. The quiet beep of the medical machines draws me inside.
Dominic lies as still as ever beneath the plastic case that contains him on the hospital bed. As still as death.
A shiver passes down my spine at the thought. I walk over to him and stand there for a moment, gazing down at him in silent vigil.
I’m aware of stories of miraculous recoveries, stolen from memories of people I passed by or lifted from books and newspaper articles I absorbed. They feel about as useful as a handful of ash.
No story is going to restore our friend to us. I’ve got nothing that would heal him.
As I stand vigil over him, my gut burns with that knowledge.We’re going to get you out of there, I promise in my head, with no idea how I’m going to fulfill the vow.We’re going to get you better. Somehow.
When I turn back to the doorway, I have to suppress a startled flinch at the sight of a figure on the threshold.
But it isn’t anyone I’m upset to see. Ajax treads into the room and comes over to join me.
He looks at Dominic too, with the solemn expression that seems to fall naturally over his dark face. I can’t stop myself from asking, “Can you pick up any thoughts from him?”
Is Dom’s mind still working within his cage of a body? It’s possible the guy I grew up with is already gone, and the figure before us is only a shell, a trick being held over our heads.
I don’t want to believe that.
Ajax adjusts his slender frame as he considers Dominic. He turns to me with an anxious swipe of his hand over the stubble of hair on his scalp. “Not right now. But that doesn’t mean he’s not in there. I’m no good at making the thoughts come.”
That’s fair, even if I can’t suppress a pang of disappointment. “I get it.”
The younger guy opens his mouth and then closes it again as if unsure of what he wants to say. The pang in my chest congeals into guilt.
He can’t be more than fifteen years old. I shouldn’t have put even a little of my hope on his shoulders.
But when he does speak, it has nothing to do with Dominic. His deep brown gaze holds mine intently. “Yourtalent—you can reach into memories whenever you want, right?”
