Page 22 of City of the Lost
I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know. I went outside for a breath of fresh air and then something came at me. It was a blur ... I think ... there was something holding me to the ground.” Colors and images surged up in my mind. Memory. But then a sharp pain lanced through my head, cutting them off. “Shit.” I gripped my head.
Noir was across the room in an instant, his lean hands on my shoulders. “Wila, what’s wrong.”
“Every time I try and remember it hurts.” I let go of the swirling images and the pain subsided.
Noir’s lips were pressed together, his eyes glittering dangerously. “I think someone’s blocked your memory.”
“Blocked? What? No. I’d remem—okay, that was dumb.”
He cracked a smile. “I may be able to help.”
I nodded. “Go for it. If someone’s fucked with my brain, then I want to know so I can hunt them down and kick their arse.”
He placed his hands on either side of my head.
“Wait,” Tay said. “Could this hurt her?”
The pressure of Noir’s fingers eased a little. “It could if I push, but I’m simply going to probe and—”
Synapses fired in my brain. “Wait, what did you say?”
Noir blinked down at me. “I said I wasn’t going to push.”
“No, after that.”
“That I was simply going to probe?”
“Yes!Probe, that word—” Another shooting pain, this time behind my eyes. “Oh, fuck this shit. Noir, sort this out.”
Noir gently cupped my head and closed his eyes. A tingle spread across my scalp, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention, and then someone stabbed a dagger into my head.
My scream was a primal, visceral, involuntary thing.
Noir’s hands slipped away, and Tay’s booming voice cut through the pain. Large hands gripped me, lifting me off my feet, cradling me to a wide, muscular chest. Tay. It was Tay. But the pain was a live thing burrowing into my fucking cerebral cortex like a worm, a hungry worm eating at my brain matter.
Sirens blared.
No. Not sirens. Screams.
My screams.
“What did you fucking do?” Tay demanded.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything.” Noir’s tone was higher than usual, dripping with panic.
Colors filled my mind’s eye, voices, shapes, smells, and the memory I’d lost surged to the surface.
The pain shut off as if someone had flipped a switch.
I opened my eyes to Tay’s frown.
“Wila. Oh thank fuck.” He cradled me closer.
I gripped his shirt. “I remember.”
* * *
Missy Honour’svoice was a low hum emanating from the radio on the kitchen counter. Did that woman ever sleep? Gilbert had made some tea, decaf due to the late hour, but so far, mine sat untouched. Noir sat opposite me at the table, Mack leaned up against the door jamb, and Tay was propped up against the counter by the radio. Gilbert was close by; I could sense him, but not precisely pinpoint his location.
