“What did the female look like?” V asked as Xcor started to say a prayer in the Old Language.
“She was beautiful. With long brunette hair. She somehow managed to—I know this sounds crazy, but she killed the shop owner, I know she did. He was on the floor, dead, in the storeroom. And then… she became him for a while.” The woman rubbed her forehead. “You have to believe me—”
“We do,” V said. “Every word.”
Lowering her arms, her bloodshot eyes lifted to meet his again. “I feel so insane.”
“What happened next.” He asked this even though he knew exactly where they were heading—and at least everything was making sense now, even if she was confused as hell. “Tell me what happened next.”
“There was… a light, out in the main part of the shop. It came into the storeroom and then a man was there—I was blacking out at that point, but I can picture him in my mind clear as day. He glowed… like an angel, he glowed. He and the brunette argued and she left. Then he took my hand and gave me this ball of… energy.” She looked down at her palm. “Just holding it made my whole body feel better. He left, too, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, but then I crawled over and I put it… to where the bleeding was.”
“That explains the healing,” Manny said in a quiet way.
Closing her eyes, she exhaled with defeat. “I’m trying to make sense of this all, and the thing is, I dreamed about a shadow last night. Just like the one I saw in the bookshop, that he fought. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up. But I’m not going to, am I?”
“You don’t have to worry about any of this.” V made a move to get a hand-rolled out of his leather jacket, but there was no smoking in the surgical unit—and definitely not when there was pure oxygen being pumped into a Bastard. “Not any of it. It’s not about you.”
Those exhausted eyes met his own. “Are you going to take my memories like he did? Because he has. I know he has.”
“What did you say your name is?”
“I didn’t. But that doesn’t matter, does it. Who are you?” She moved her hand around. “What is this? Where am I.”
“Caldwell, New York,” Vishous murmured. “Where do you think.”
That stare of hers moved to Manny. Then to Xcor. Finally, it settled on Balz as he lay on the table. Slowly, she shook her head.
“This is not my Caldwell.” Her face became a mask of composure, like she was trying to accept some really bad news. “It’s yours, isn’t it.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Inside the club named after a weed with a cheerful sunny thatch roof upon its stem, Rahvyn ducked her eyes as another round of pink lights spun around the open area of the meadow-themed establishment. When she had first arrived, she had been a bit taken by the decor. Flowers were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, arranged in vases mounted on the walls—depicted in framed photographs and amateur art down a serving area that was so long, she could not see the terminus of it. But then she realized the blooms were silk, the leaves plastic, and in spite of the large footprint of the building, things were very, very crowded.
Another problem for her was the noise level. Music with a fast beat and a thumping lower percussion sent shock waves through the hot air. The scents were equally overwhelming. So many humans, their colognes and perfumes not the least of it. The sexual pheromones were choking her, and it was no mystery why there was so much arousal.
The dancing was body-to-body.
So it was hard to know where to train one’s eyes.
Dearest Virgin Scribe, she was getting to the point where she couldn’t breathe— “Weca nlea veanyt imey ouwa nt.”
“I’m sorry?” She turned to Nate. “What did you—”
“We can leave anytime you want,” he said more loudly.
The only saving grace to this whole experiment in exploration was that Nate seemed just as awkward as she was. His friend, Shuli, on the other hand, was fitting right in. From the moment they’d arrived nearly an hour ago, the male had been buying drinks that smelled as pungent as the mead had back in the Old Country. He purchased them for himself as well as for others, not that he appeared to know the humans. There were many introductions.
Verily, he was very interested in meeting new friends.
Particularly of the female variety—
“How we doing, kids!”
Shuli came up from behind in a rush of two-handed fruity drinks. As he threw his arms around her and Nate, frothy yellow liquid splashed out onto the floor.