My body shakes uncontrollably. I clutch onto the table's edge, my eyes darting between the four people in front of me.
“Darcie?” Thane releases his wife and takes a cautious step in my direction. “Are you all right?”
My voice trembles. “W-who are you people? What… what have you done to my head?”
“Shit.” Lome runs a hand down his face. “The Masking wore off.”
My attention zeros in on him. “What’s a Masking?”
Lome casts a wary glance at his brothers.
Thane coughs, drawing my gaze. “A Masking of a memory. We removed certain memories from you. Memories, I assume, you’ve now regained access to.”
Dread claws into my throat. “What about my friends?”
I just had brunch with Kayla this morning. We talked about our night out in Portland. We talked about our ride home together—a ride that never happened. What did they do to her?
Thane shifts his weight between his feet but holds his head high. “We did what needed to be done.”
Beside him, Bella shakes her head once.
I’ve heard enough.
Somehow, these people have the ability to manipulate people's minds. And they can access my friends to do it…
Forget getting answers. I want to leave.Now.
I turn to the one person in the room who's just as eager for me to go home as I am. “Please take me home.”
Des’s expression is unreadable, his body rigid.
Bella murmurs, “He can’t.”
Desperate eyes snap to her. “Why not? I don’t want to be here. Shouldn’t that matter?”
“We can’t let you go because it’s not safe.” Bella turns to Des to silence his impending objection. “No matter what you say, you know it's true. Our enemies won’t stop going after her.”
“What do you mean, ‘enemies’?” My voice comes out shrill and panicked. “Who the hell are you people?”
The brothers exchange loaded looks. Des’s hazel eyes harden as he stares at Lome and Thane, the latter of which’s nostrils flare. Lome chews the inside of his cheek. No one speaks.
White-hot rage flares to life in my chest, overshadowing my lingering fear. “Will someone answer me? Haven’t you played enough mind games on me at this point?” I demand.
A feminine voice cuts through the silence. "Enough, indeed."
A tall, willowy woman with warm, tan skin steps through the open door. Brown eyes lined with thick coal meet mine. Her expression has no warmth, but she doesn’t look indifferent. If anything, she stares at me with pity. Which is why I suspect she gives me an answer I’m so desperate to hear.
Her gaze never wavers. “We are Immortals, Darcie...”
A gasp tears from my throat.
Immortals?
What the hell is she talking about?
In quick, disorienting flashes, all the unusual things that have happened since I was attacked at Robertson’s hit me like a slap to the face.
My attackers disappearing in bursts of white light…