Page 26 of Gambling with Time

Her eyes widened, and she shifted uncomfortably, her hands unable to settle for long in one place. Then she reached beneath her shirt and tugged out a necklace with a charm on the end of it.

“I found this, here in the palace. It had magic in it that helped me get Lex’s memories back. And I think it could work for you too.”

Giving her a narrowed gaze, I held back from pushing further, sensing there was something more she wasn’t revealing. The certainty of her concealed truths hit me hard, even without my memories. It was crystal clear, as if I could feel it in my bones and all the way down to the soul level. And it was my least favorite thing.

“Okay. Let’s try.”

She sighed. “I think it needs to recharge. Or maybe you have to be sober.”

It was my turn to grimace. “I’m hungover, not drunk.”

“You smell drunk,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “And honestly, you are lucky Ty found you. A whole bottle of whiskey? Really?”

“Are you scolding me?” I chuckled, and it felt like my skull was splitting in half.

She shifted. “Maybe.”

I grabbed the muffin and took a bite. It definitely wouldn’t have been my choice of a snack to eat in bed. The crumbs were everywhere. She held out the pear juice to me expectantly. The flavor wasn’t anything like I expected, but it did help the dry pastry go down.

Silence fell between us, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. She relaxed into the headboard, her back less stiff now that I was eating.

“How did the necklace work?” I asked between bites.

“It was like a dam breaking, and his memories washed over us.” She shivered, a slight smile on her lips. “It even made me recall things I had forgotten about my relationship with him.”

I nodded, absorbing her words.

“At first, it was just like a room with my memories. He could see them and touch them, but they didn’t seem to help him.”

A glimmer of hope blossomed within the darkness that had consumed my chest last night. It felt as if a flickering light had ignited, dispelling the shadows that plagued my memories. There was a chance, just maybe, that I could reclaim everything I had lost. The magic woven into the charm held the potential to unlock the doors of my forgotten past, becoming the beacon of possibility that guided me toward restoration. And it was all because of this woman sitting next to me. Well, and possibly the God, Alastor.

“When do you want to try?” I asked, eager to be whole again.

“When you are feeling better,” she replied.

“I’m good now.”

“You flinch if I talk too loud,” she pointed out drily.

“Sammy, I want to remember you. I need to know what we had between us. The fact that it is so strong I can sense things even now—it doesn’t feel like something I can live without. Please.” I reached for her hand, tangling her fingers with mine.

She pressed her lips together and nodded her agreement. Then she moved the tray to the side table next to her and went to her knees.

“If it hurts at all, tell me, Rai.” She held my hand as if I were a lifeline, yet she was my anchor in the turbulent seas I had been tossed into.

With her free hand, she reached up for the necklace, gripping the smooth metal in her palm. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly. It glowed in her hand, looking like a flashlight shone through her skin.

My eyes dropped closed of their own accord, and when I opened them again, I was in a field. It looked like a playground. But it was overrun with weeds and tall grass. I glanced around the area, I was the only one there.

The sky had dark angry clouds gathering to the west, moving quickly toward me. “Sammy?” I called, spinning in a circle again. This didn’t feel like a memory.

The first fat raindrop fell, pinging off of the broken-down metal slide. Followed by the downpour. The wind whipped and lightning flashed through the sky as thunder rumbled continuously.

I didn’t understand what this place was or why I was there instead of wherever I was supposed to be. The street was as old and broken as the playground, a desolate feel to the neighborhood.

My feet carried me in a random direction before I was standing in front of a home I knew, yet didn’t know at the same time. The door hung off its hinges, and the windows had been shattered as if from the inside. On autopilot, I walked up the cracked sidewalk and climbed the steps to the porch.

I stepped inside, holding my breath and making my movements as silent as possible. The inside looked as dilapidated and destroyed as the outside. But the pictures hanging crooked on the wall showed Sammy and Tyler with older versions of them. I moved slowly into the living room, and there were more pictures in there, sitting atop the fireplace mantle.

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