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And with those words, one did.

I looked back at one of the pictures. “A stranger took this right outside a shop where you bought me a mask, right?” I paused as the memory became clearer. “The shop was called Ca’ Macana.”

The name slipped off my tongue with such ease. The more I remembered, the more I felt comfortable in this home and near Maurice. Hopefulness bloomed inside me, and I could hardly contain my happiness.

My excitement brought a smile to Maurice’s lips. It really brightened his features, and he looked even more handsome.

“That was in Venice,” he said.

God, I wished so badly I could remember everything.

I glanced around the room again, spotting a pentagram plaque against the wall by the console table near a hallway. “I saw a vision when you first talked about what had happened to me,” I said. “I saw myself use magic. It sparked inside me, but I don’t know how to use it.” I lifted my hands, examining my fingertips. “I’m not afraid, just confused. Things are beginning to make sense, but it’s still like a puzzle with missing pieces.”

He walked up to me and touched my hand. “I can help you remember, you know? Once, you shared with me that you had to visualize a green light flowing through you and the power igniting in your hand to summon your magic. Focus on it reaching your fingertips,” he added. I looked down and did as he instructed. Nothing happened when I thought about this green energy reaching my fingers. I didn’t feel anything stir within me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Focus, Mercy!” That time, his voice was harsh and authoritative. It scared me a little, and I flinched. “I’m sorry,” His tone dropped, grabbing my hand. “I’m overwhelming you. We can try this another day.”

I frowned. “You look upset with me.”

Maurice took my fingers in his, intertwined them, and brought me closer to his chest. “I’m not upset. I’m just worried about you.”

Maurice held me in place as he pressed his hands to my cheek, caressing my skin from my cheekbone down to my lips. Then he let his finger slide beneath my chin and lifted it. His lips touched mine again. The kiss was deeper that time, more sensual. My body ached for that kiss as if he were someone I had cared for, for years.

I took a deep breath after Maurice let go, and I noticed boxes down the hallway for the first time. “What is all this?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.

“Oh, I didn’t want to bring it up yet, since you’re still confused about a lot of things, but we’re moving,” he explained.

Moving? I didn’t even know where I was yet.

“Where are we now?”

“Salem, Massachusetts,” Maurice replied. “I wish you could remember all this, but we sold our home last month. Our new home awaits in California. I have business there starting next week, so we’re catching a flight first thing in the morning.”

I was familiar with the geographical landmarks but had no emotional ties to Salem. I looked out the window, but I only saw the night sky.

“Shouldn’t I be in a hospital, Maurice?” I asked. “Not taking a flight clear across the country?”

“It’s not as if you have amnesia, Mercy. A witch took your memories away. A doctor could examine you and try to help, but it would be pointless.”

I thought about what he said. “But why would someone do that to me?”

“Because you’re a powerful witch, darling,” he said, running the back of his knuckles along my cheek. You were born years ago, 1671, to be exact.”

1671? I’m over three hundred years old?

I’ve had centuries of memories, and I couldn’t remember them?

“You, too?” I asked.

“I’m much older,” he explained.

“Are you also a witch?”

He smiled. “No. I’m something else.” He opened his mouth, and slowly, his incisors protruded into sharp points. I gasped and took a step back, but Maurice caught me by the waist, keeping me from creating distance between us. My heart pounded hard against my chest. I didn’t want to fear this man, whom I felt was essential to my life, but I did.

“You’re a …”

“Yes, but I won’t hurt you. I’ve never hurt you,” Maurice explained with so much desperation in his voice that I honestly believed he wouldn’t. “The only blood I drink is supplied through my contacts at the local hospital.”

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