Blurred Memories Read online

  Chapter 2

  Kate’s cheek still tingled by the time the pub’s door closed behind Marc and Blake.

  A few minutes earlier, Marc had said he was ready to turn in, and he had given Kate a quick look to remind her that he’d asked her to give him some time to talk to Blake. In return, she had responded as he’d expected by saying that she needed to talk to Simon a little longer. She hadn’t even lied; she did need to talk to him and try, one last time, to convince him to come with them.

  Unaware of her promise to Marc, Blake had leaned close to Kate and murmured a quiet, “Don’t be long,” in her ear before pulling away. For a moment, she had been so sure he would kiss her, she had frozen lest she scare him off when she moved. But he hadn’t touched her, of course not. Marc’s soft kiss on her cheek had felt like both an apology for leaving her behind and a plea for her not to lose hope.

  “You should have gone with them,” Simon muttered into his drink, low enough that the music drifting from the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner of the room almost drowned out his words.

  When he had joined them at their table, he had asked for lemonade at first, but one amused glance from Blake had been enough. Turning back to the waitress, Simon had changed his order to a beer. The back of his neck had been flushed scarlet in embarrassment. Kate didn’t care what he chose to drink; she was just glad that Blake felt good enough to tease anyone about anything. It hadn’t been all that long ago that blank looks and silence were the best that could be expected from him. Even coming to the pub and looking like he was having fun was an accomplishment for him.

  “You should have gone,” Simon repeated, a little louder now, his mouth still twisted from the taste of the beer. He didn’t like alcohol, but he was stubborn enough to drink the entire glass, even if Blake was gone. “I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not going to change my mind. I’m not leaving Riverton.”

  Kate pushed away her own empty glass and looked at Simon. He kept his head down, hiding behind his bangs, and didn’t bother to pretend he was enjoying himself anymore. That charade had only been for Blake.

  They all knew Simon had had a crush on him almost since the moment they had all met in the foggy ruins of the City. They also knew Blake did not return Simon’s interest. Still, Simon’s crush had never abated. He had showed up at the pub that night because Blake would be there, supposedly to say goodbye since Blake, Marc, and Kate were to leave town the next night.

  Then again, Blake was gone now, and Simon wasn’t running away from the request he knew Kate wanted to make. Maybe it wouldn’t be as useless as he claimed to try to convince him. Maybe he wanted to be convinced, whether he admitted it to himself or not.

  “It’s your right to stay here,” Kate said almost offhandedly. “No one can force you to return to the fight.”

  Simon gave her a suspicious look over the rim of his glass, then took a sip that turned, like all the others, into a grimace.

  “Personally,” Kate continued in the same tone, “I don’t think I could stay here very long. It’s too quiet.”

  She let her gaze wander. The pub felt cozy, paneled in wood with ancient sports memorabilia on the walls and a long counter that ran almost the entire length of the room. Kate knew the two dozen patrons by sight, and she felt comfortable in their midst, the same way she would have amongst her comrades from the squad. She and Simon had been in town long enough that they weren’t observed with wary looks or undisguised curiosity anymore, but she would always marvel at how the inhabitants of Riverton managed to lead such easy lives, almost as though the outside world had not been at war with beast-like demons.

  Some supplies were only available in limited quantities, but the town managed to feed its citizens properly by bartering with other nearby cities. Kate had visited quite a few places, both while fighting with the squad and after she had quit to hunt down information about Blake’s ordeal. Nowhere else had she found such a quiet, peaceful little town. Marc vouching for her—and paying the hefty settling fee required for newcomers—had allowed her to stay longer than the two months visitors were granted, but if not for Blake and Marc, she doubted she would have remained here even that long. She was a fighter, and as nice as Riverton was, it just wasn’t the place for her.

  “Quiet is nice,” Simon said, almost reproachful. “It’s much better than places where you have to fight every night and you never know if you and your friends will be alive in the morning. I bet I’ll enjoy staying here a lot.”

  There was a hint of newfound loyalty in Simon’s words, all the more recognizable because Kate had once heard it directed at her and the squad. He had not needed to pay the settling fee; the town’s council had discovered he was a mage and offered him a place to stay at once, if he would just apply his magic wherever it was needed. Every day, his services were requested to help fix some things, improve others, and every time she saw him, he had a new story to tell about some new magic trick he had performed.

  Coming up with a spell to repel insects or restoring the flow of water to the town’s decorative fountain was good and fine, but Kate knew Simon—and knew this kind of magic wouldn’t remain appealing for long.

  “Maybe you’ll enjoy it for a while,” she agreed. “But I think you’ll miss the fight. You’ll miss closing breaches.”

  Simon snorted into his glass. He still hadn’t drunk more than an inch of the beer. At this pace, he would still be there when the pub closed. Raising her hand, Kate caught the waitress’ attention and pointed at the empty cup of insta-coffee on the table. It had been Blake’s, ordered in lieu of a second beer. He didn’t deal well with alcohol anymore, as they had discovered on their first visit to the pub. Kate’s heart ached at the memory, as though a steel fist had tightened over it. It had been one of their worst nights to date. She never wanted to see that look of fear in Blake’s eyes again or watch him flinch away from her and Marc, his body shaking as he squeezed his eyes shut.

  At least he hadn’t tried to hurt Marc that time. But afterward, he had pointedly refused to tell them what he had remembered or what had set him off. Getting him to talk about what had happened to him was all but impossible. If only he could understand that neither Marc nor Kate thought any less of him for stumbling sometimes…

  With a blink, Kate pushed away the memory and focused on Simon again.

  “They have two dozen mages trained to close breaches,” he was saying. “And they’re training more every day. They don’t need me to do it.”

  The argument was familiar, even more so because Kate had used almost the same excuse five months earlier when she had told Daniel she wouldn’t return to the squad with him, at least not right away. She was but one soldier, she had said. Thousands, millions of people were fighting demons throughout the world; what difference did one less make?

  The claim had been hard to voice, because it ran contrary to everything Kate believed. She had joined the squad precisely because she believed one person could make a difference in the fight.

  And she knew that, deep down, Simon believed the very same thing. As much as he enjoyed playing with magic and figuring out new spells, when he had enrolled in the squad, all he had wanted was to join the battle against demons. Kate had recognized an echo of her own motives in him, and she had taken him under her wing. Unfortunately, Simon’s enthusiasm hadn’t lasted past his first face-to-face contact with one of their adversaries. All the power he wielded amounted to nothing when he allowed his fear to get the better of him. It had taken all of Kate’s persuasive skills to convince him not to quit that first night, and a lot of work after that before he had been able to do magic when demons were nearby. She hoped she still knew him well enough to convince him now.

  “You’re going to get bored,” she said again after accepting her cup of insta-coffee from the waitress. “All the magic they need here is for non-vital stuff, and you know it. You’ll miss being useful. Really useful.”

  Simon shrugged and looked away. “I won’t miss demons, that
’s for sure.”

  The pub served its coffee hot, right on the edge of being too hot, and faint volutes rose from the cup. Kate blew gently across the surface, then breathed in the aroma before bringing the cup to her lips. Strong and unsweetened, the coffee awakened every inch of her tongue and palate.

  Savoring each slow sip, Kate considered her options. She didn’t like to play dirty, but when she had contacted Daniel to tell him they were coming back, he had made it clear that the squad needed Simon’s skills. For Daniel to insist that much, surely something had to be going on. She didn’t see a better solution now than to play on Simon’s weaknesses.

  “I’m worried about Blake,” she said quietly, speaking right against the rim of her cup. As warm as the cup was, the words still came out glittering with frost. “He’s not getting any better.”

  Simon sat up as soon as she pronounced Blake’s name, as though electric current had suddenly passed through him. Now, he leaned forward toward Kate and barely avoided spilling his beer between them.

  “What do you mean, he’s not any better?” he asked, his voice shrill with worry. “He looks better to me. He’s been smiling and…”

  His voice trailed off at Kate’s dismissive gesture.

  “Smiling doesn’t mean anything,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just a mask, so we won’t worry. But he still—”

  She stopped herself and pinched her lips tightly together before she could reveal that Blake still suffered from nightmares, amongst other things. It was one thing to lure Simon into accompanying them, but a very different one to betray Blake’s trust. She wouldn’t cross that line, although she could get close to it.

  “He still scratches at his tattoo, sometimes,” she confided. “Like he used to before you did that spell on him.”

  “He does? Why are you going, then?” Simon murmured, his eyebrows knitted in incomprehension.

  This, at least, Kate felt comfortable sharing. “Blake wants to go. He wants to fight.”

  “But he could relapse,” Simon protested. “If the tattoo is still bothering him, it could…” His brow furrowed more deeply, and he picked up his glass again to take a small mouthful. Once again, the taste caused him to grimace, but he barely even seemed to notice as he spoke quietly to himself like he sometimes did when he prepared magic. “The spell wasn’t strong enough. I should have known. If I had had hawthorn powder maybe… I wonder if I could…”

  His head suddenly jerked up. His eyes focused on Kate again, and he glared. “You’re doing this on purpose!”

  Kate gave him the most innocent look she could muster. “Doing what? I’m just sharing my concerns with a friend. I thought you cared.”

  Simon pointed a shaky finger at her and all but hissed, “You know I care about him. You knew I’d want to help if you told me about this. How am I supposed to do that if I’m here and he’s God knows where?”

  Leaning back in her chair, Kate took another sip of coffee and didn’t reply. Simon continued to glower for a moment before he shook his head and muttered, “I’m an idiot. He played the same trick on me in the City, and I’m going to fall for it again, aren’t I?”

  Kate gave him a confused look. Simon picked up his drink, and this time, grimacing or not, he emptied half of what was left of his beer. The glass clanked on the wooden table when he set it down again. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he explained, “Remember when Jen took us to the City? And Blake came to save us because it was a trap?”

  Kate nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She remembered, yes. She remembered how she’d thought she would die right up until she had heard Blake shout and rush into the fight. She remembered the sheer glee that had exuded from him when he fought those demons. She missed that Blake: missed seeing him smile, truly smile, without a hint of reserve.

  “That’s how he convinced me to go with him and close the breach,” Simon continued ruefully. “He said… He asked me to do it for him. He said other stuff, too, and I knew he wouldn’t like me any better if I closed the breach, but I did it for him anyway.” He sighed softly. “And now I’m going to let you talk me into going back for him. Even when I know he’ll never like me.” His mouth twisted into a pout. “It’s not fair.”

  Kate could almost have smiled at how disgruntled he sounded. Almost, but not quite.

  “Who ever said life was fair?” she asked with a small shrug, her gaze returning to her coffee. The dark brew offered her no answers.

  Simon snorted, and when she glanced up at him, his eyes were filled with unmistakable jealousy. “Coming from you, it’s kinda hard to swallow.”

  She returned the look flatly until Simon turned away. She knew what he thought: that she was lucky because she had the love of two men, both of them gorgeous, strong, and courageous. He was right, of course; she felt lucky to know them, to be with them, to share something with them that she had never expected to find before they had met—something she hadn’t even been looking for in one man, let alone two. The fact remained that Blake was hurt. Broken, a little voice claimed from the depths of her mind, but she didn’t like to use that word, even inside her own head.

  When Blake finally healed completely and trivialities no longer precipitated him back to his hellish memories, when he, Marc, and Kate could truly be together the way Blake had once schemed for, then everything would be right with the world again. Or as right as possible with demons attacking relentlessly. Until then, Simon could believe what he wanted, but Kate’s situation wasn’t perfect. At least, Simon didn’t have to worry that one of his lovers would lose his mind and try to kill the other—either that, or curl into a ball and whimper until Kate wanted to claw her own heart out.

  She finished her coffee in two more gulps then stood and left a few bills on the table. Simon looked up at her, lips parted on what would probably be an apology. She didn’t need it, and she shook her head.

  “I’m tired, and we have a long trip tomorrow night. We’ll pick you up in front of your place a little after nightfall, all right?”

  He sighed deeply before offering a grudging, “Okay. Good night.”

  She gave him a half smile and started for the door.

  “Kate?”

  She looked back at Simon. For the first time that night, the only thing she could read from his features and voice was a quiet certainty, the same certainty he always showed when he overcame his fears enough to do great magic.

  “He’ll get better. It might take time, but he will.”

  A pang of sadness rang through Kate. After giving Simon another, more difficult smile, she finally left the pub.

  The house she shared with Marc and Blake was only a few streets away, but Kate found herself dragging her feet. At the last intersection, she turned left rather than right and continued on without looking back.

  Summer had retreated quickly this year, and while it was still early in the fall, the nights were already cool. Or maybe this was normal for Riverton. The town didn’t stand very high up the mountain, but it was still higher than what Kate was used to, having lived and fought on the plains for all her life.

  She walked for a few more minutes, head down and her hands in her pockets. She regretted not having strapped her knives to her arm and thigh. She didn’t expect she’d need them in Riverton, but she felt naked without them. In the deserted streets, the sound of her boot heels hitting the sidewalk almost had an ominous echo, like a drum beating out the cadence of soldiers walking to the fight. The squad didn’t use drums, no army she knew did, but she had seen old movies in which a drummer accompanied soldiers to the battle. She wondered whether drums helped the soldiers keep their heartbeat from galloping wildly. But then, that only worked for humans; vampires needed no such trick to keep calm.

  Kate almost missed a step when her thoughts brought her back to the very same topic she was avoiding.

  She hadn’t lied when she had told Simon that Blake wanted to go back to the fight. What she hadn’t told him, however, or
Marc, was that Blake had first raised the idea a few hours after observing Kate practice sword forms in the small yard behind the house.

  “Would you like to go back to the squad?” he had asked her when she came back in.

  “When you’re ready,” she had answered, and realized as soon as the words passed her lips that they were a mistake. Blake would do anything to make her happy.

  Or almost anything.

  She felt guilty whenever she wondered whether he was truly ready to fight again or if he was only trying to give Kate at least one thing that she wanted. Was it his way of making it up to her? Offering her the fight that was her life since he wouldn’t—couldn’t—offer her the caresses she craved?

  She knew what Marc and Blake had to be doing by now. Their talk couldn’t have lasted all that long, and she had no doubt that they were in bed. Blake would fuck Marc, and she had watched him do it often enough by now that she knew how glorious they looked together. She also knew what would happen if she went home now and joined them: Marc would guide Blake’s hands on her, and after a while Marc would make love to her while Blake watched them with wide, burning eyes. She also knew what would not happen, however much she wished it would: Blake would not reach toward her on his own, he would only kiss back, and he would not enter her, not with his fingers, cock, or fangs.

  Most of the time, Kate was glad she had even that much when she had once thought she’d lost Blake—and Marc—for good. Blake would get better in time, and she would wait however long it took to truly be with him. It wasn’t as if she was neglected.

  But sometimes, like tonight, the ache in her heart was simply too much. Talking to Simon, putting into words what she and Marc only talked about with worried looks and furrowed eyebrows somehow made everything more precise in her mind: how much she missed what she had once shared with Blake, how afraid she was that he would never truly be the same again.

  If she went home now, they would draw her into bed with them, certainly, but they would also know something was wrong with her. That was the thing about living with two vampires and their sharp noses; she couldn’t hide anything she felt from them, not fear, not guilt, not need, nor sadness.