Blaze of Memory

CHAPTER 28

Katya spent most of the rest of the afternoon watching archived news footage on the small comm unit in her room. More and more of her memory was coming back, and several times she found herself prompting the anchor. When that happened one time too many, she turned off the panel and decided to stretch her legs.

No one bothered her when she went into the kitchen. After grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter, she opened the back door and stepped out.

“Going to be a nice night,” Tiara said from where she was going through a graceful exercise routine on the back lawn, her hair swept up in a sleek ponytail, her body covered by a flowing white top and black leggings.

Taking a bite of the apple, Katya looked up at the early evening sky. “How can you tell?”

“I’ve got weather-sense, as my oma would say.”

“Oma?”

“My grandmother.” Tiara stretched out her long limbs in an almost feline way. “She was born in Indonesia, but her ancestors were all sea-folk over from the Netherlands. No one can read weather like a sailor.”

The apple left a sweet, slightly tart taste on Katya’s tongue. Relishing it, she took another bite. “Did your family intermarry with the Indonesian population?”

“Can’t you tell? I’m a mutt.” A wink from an eye that was uptilted just enough to whisper of ancestors far from Europe.

Katya couldn’t help but smile. “You’re doing some kind of yoga.”

“It’s one of the more athletic versions.” Spinning in a slow curve, her leg held out like a dancer’s, she smiled. “Want to join me?”

Being stronger, Katya thought, would only help in her escape. “Can I do it in these clothes?”

Tiara ran a critical eye over her jeans and sweatshirt. “No, you need lighter gear. You can borrow something of mine.”

“You’re about a foot taller than I am,” Katya pointed out.

“And more than a few pounds heavier.” Tiara grinned, one hand on a curvy hip.

She was, Katya thought, the embodiment of the female ideal so many of the human artists liked to draw. All ripe curves and height and an almost electric kind of beauty.

“Right,” Tiara said with a nod. “I know what we’ll do. Strip off the sweatshirt, and get rid of the jeans. Sun’s still out, so the T-shirt will do with some leggings I bought last week.”

Katya walked back inside to do as ordered. Tiara threw in a pair of leggings a minute later. Though they were loose enough on her thin frame that she had to use a pin to hold them up, they were otherwise fine, reaching to midcalf—which meant they were likely knee-high on Tiara. Sweeping her own hair into a ponytail, she walked back out to the lawn in her bare feet.

As Tiara began to show her the basic stretches, Katya felt her body flow into the rhythm almost without thought. A few minutes later, the other woman gave her a considering look and said, “Let’s try something else.”

Katya watched as Tiara demonstrated, then copied the deceptively slow move.

Tiara nodded. “You’ve done this before.”

“Yes.” Katya flowed into another move. “My body remembers, even if my mind doesn’t.” Her brain supplied the information that yoga was considered a valuable form of exercise in the Net, as it meant training the mind as well as the body.

“Awesome. That means we can skip the baby stuff.”

“I don’t think so.” Rubbing at her quivering calf muscles, Katya shook her head. “My body might be willing, but it’s not as able as it should be.”

Tiara smiled that megawatt grin. “If you’re tough enough to mouth off to Dev, you’re tough enough for Tiara’s Yoga Class.”

“How do you know I mouth off to Dev?” Getting into position, she ran her body through a slow, basic routine.

Beside her, Tiara did a much more complex set of moves. “Call it feminine intuition.”

“You know,” Katya said, feeling sweat roll down her back, “there’s a theory that the first Psy were simply humans with a highly developed sense of intuition.”

“Well, they do say we originated from the same primordial ooze.”

Katya searched the foggy banks of her memory, came up with more data. “If the Council succeeds in maintaining Silence,” she said, aligning her body until every muscle was in perfect tune, “and the majority of Psy mate only with other Psy, there’s a possibility they’ll evolve in a completely different direction.”

“That kind of evolution would take a helluva long time. Personally, I don’t think it’ll happen.” An easy shrug as she watched Katya complete her set. “I think the humanity in Psy will rise to the surface.”

As Katya’s feet came down on the grass, rooting her to the earth, she shook her head. “That assumes there’s some humanity still present in them.” And after her endless hours with Ming, she knew there wasn’t.

Dev was on his way to talk to Katya later that evening when he got a call from Maggie. As a result, he ended up spending over two hours on a conference call with a number of people high up in Shine—all of whom were starting to panic about the rising rate of incidents.

For once, however, the meeting didn’t degenerate into an argument—despite the fact that Dev’s cousin Jack was pushing for a solution Dev refused to accept. When he finally hung up, it was with a feeling of exhaustion weighing down his shoulders. He wanted to go to Katya, to be with her, even if he couldn’t share the fears that threatened to splinter the Forgotten, but the hour was well past eleven, and according to Tiara, both Tag and Katya had gone to bed around ten, after the two women chatted over a late dinner. Dev wasn’t sure quite what to make of that. Tiara got along with almost everyone, but she was also fiercely loyal to Shine.

Reaching back to pull off his T-shirt in preparation for catching a few hours’ sleep, he froze at the sound of a short, sharp scream, cut off almost before it began.

By the time he slammed into Katya’s room, she was sitting up in bed, staring at the sheets.

“What happened?” he asked, sensing Tiara return to her watch in the front.

“The boy,” she whispered, “he was such a beautiful boy.” Her hand shook as she raised it to her face. She dropped it midway, as if she’d forgotten what she meant to do. “I couldn’t help him.”

He didn’t interrupt, realizing he was hearing an inner nightmare.

“I tried to protect him, but then Larsen asked for him and I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t stop him.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I wanted to stab Larsen through the heart with his own scalpel, but if I had, then Ming LeBon would’ve known we were traitors and all the children would’ve died.”

“The boy survived,” he reminded her. “I told you that. I don’t know why Ashaya nev—”

She shook her head. “It was to protect me. To protect the children. The less I knew, the less they could take from me if I was ever broken.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore—you won’t be retaken.” Dev did not let go of what was his. “And Jon—that’s his name—is safe. The Council knows if they touch the boy, it’s a declaration of war.”

“Jon . . . Jonquil Duchslaya,” she murmured slowly. “I’m glad he’s protected . . . God, he screamed so much.” She dropped her head in her hands, her entire body shaking. “And I had to pretend that it didn’t matter, that I didn’t care.”

His own body strained toward her, but how could he go to her when he’d put her in a cage himself? “You shouldn’t have. You were Silent—without emotion.”

She lifted her head, eyes shining in the light coming in from the corridor. “There’s being cold, and then there’s such a thing as being without conscience. I’ve always had a conscience, and it keeps me awake every single night.”

“Katya,” he began, not knowing what he was going to say.

“Do you think he’d see me? Jon?” She folded her arms around herself. “I need to say sorry. I need to do that much at least.”

Dev knew about demons, saw too many in her eyes. Losing the war to keep his distance, he closed the door and crossed the carpet. “I’ll ask.”

“Thank you.” She scooted back as he sat down on the bed. “You should go now.”

“I’m not leaving you like this.” Her eyes were stark in a face gone white, her body shivering in spite of the blankets.

“I want to be alone.”

“The hell you do.” Swearing under his breath, he got into the bed and, ignoring Katya’s protests, maneuvered her into his lap. “Quiet,” he snapped when she pushed at him.

She went still. “Even I know that’s not the appropriate thing to say in this situation.”

The overly prim response should’ve made him laugh. But he continued to feel the remembered terror in her body, her heart racing so fast he thought it might bruise itself against her ribs. Keeping one arm around her body, the other in her hair, he crushed her to him, knowing she needed the sensation, but also knowing she’d never ask for it. Not now.

Slowly, the stiffness drained out of her, one of her hands creeping under his T-shirt to spread out over his pulse. Her hand was cool, or maybe it was that his body was too hot. As always, he couldn’t control his reactions around her. It didn’t matter. Instead of shoring up his shields, all he wanted to do was offer comfort, give her a way out of that dark room where she’d been trapped without sight, without sound, without touch.

“Tiara told me she was in Paris not long ago.”

Startled at her choice of subject, he slid his hand down to her nape, squeezing gently. “Hmm.”

“She said she went to visit her parents.” Her fingers stroked over his skin in a touch that reached far deeper than anyone else ever had. “She said her mother made her cake and coffee every afternoon, and brushed her hair for her every night, while her dad splurged on a day spa for both her and her mother, took them shopping, and bought chocolate for her to snack on on the airjet ride home.”

Dev looked down, but Katya had tucked her head against him, her lashes delicate fans against her cheeks. “Sounds like she was spoiled.”

“That’s what she said, too.” Those fingers stroked lower, curving over his ribs. He knew he should stop her before she inadvertently went too far, but he didn’t. Because even now, her skin was a little clammy, her heart jittery.

“What else did Ti share?” Shifting his hold, he closed his hand over her thigh.

She stayed put—though he felt the tremors beneath her skin. “That she expects any man who wants her to spoil her just as badly.”

“Was Tag in the room when she said that?”

“Of course.”

He glimpsed the faintest shadow of a smile. “You think she was teasing him.”

“I know she was teasing him. It’s amazing how much the eyes can say.”

“You must’ve learned to read expressions very early in the Net,” he said, trying to ignore the fact that her fingers were tracing the top edge of his jeans in a maddening caress. “No one can control every minute movement.”

“It’s much more difficult with the Silent,” she murmured, tucking her fingers at his hip, a single aching centimeter under his waistband. “Everything’s in very small increments.”

“Yeah?” Reaching down, he tugged at her hand—no man was that good.

She resisted. “You feel interesting here.” The brush of her thumb over his hip bone.

Dear God in heaven. “Katya,” he all but groaned, “unless you want to be stripped naked in about two seconds flat, you can’t keep your hand there.” He was already hard beneath her. One more touch and he’d snap.

He saw her swallow, but she didn’t remove her hand. “The sensations would be incredible,” she murmured. “If we were naked.”

“Jesus.” Pulling off her hand before he gave in to temptation, he closed his own around it. “You’re mad at me, remember?”

“Yes. But according to Tiara, sexual contact doesn’t necessarily have to involve an emotional tie.”

Dev wondered exactly how much time Ti and Katya had been spending together. “She was probably trying to jerk Tag’s chain.”

A frown. “Even so, it’s true, isn’t it? People can have sex without liking each other.”

“Yes.” It was an answer gritted out through clenched teeth.

Her eyes focused on him. “Have you ever had it with someone you disliked?”

“No.” He didn’t have to think about it. “I tend to take sex seriously.”

A pause. “Yet you’re aroused by me.” Those eyes locked with his again, and his gut clenched against a bruiser of a sucker punch. Because Katya wasn’t scared anymore. She was pissed.

“And I,” she continued, “am very much someone you dislike.”

Leaning forward, he tugged back her head. “I didn’t realize you were so good at seduction.”

A little flush across her cheekbones. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“So it wasn’t planned,” he murmured, feeling his body all but purr. “That means you can’t resist the enemy either.”

“I’ll get over it.” A snapped statement. “Now go.”

He let her scramble off his lap . . . only because he knew that one second longer and he’d have followed through on his threat of ripping off her clothes, feasting on the exquisite nakedness of her skin. But he couldn’t resist taking her lips. It was a short, wild contact filled with anger on both sides. But there was something beneath the anger, a savage kind of need that shocked the hell out of him and left her staring in confusion.

Letter dated October 1, 1977

Dearest Matthew,

Emily was sick today. She’s got an ear infection, the little darling. It breaks my heart to see tears in her eyes—though of course those didn’t last long, not once I got her to an M-Psy, but it was far too long for a mother to bear. You didn’t like it either. You were trying to give her your toys so she’d feel better. And you know what? For you, she hiccupped and played for a little while.

As I watched the two of you sitting there, you looking after her, I realized something. I’ve been so focused on how Silence would affect us that I haven’t given a thought to the future, to the unborn. If Silence succeeds, then there will come a time when children are born who’ll never be kissed by their mothers, mothers who’ll never hold their precious babes and breathe in that sweet, sweet scent as a tiny hand lies over their heart.

It seems such a simple choice, but. . .

Greg called tonight. He rarely does anymore, so your father tried to keep the conversation away from politics. They always fight when it strays in that direction. But while your father was out getting something for Greg, I made that point to your uncle—about the lack of love between mother and child.

Do you know what he said?

That so many women are falling prey to violence, we’ve already got a generation that doesn’t know what it is to sleep in a mother’s arms.

The worst of it is, he’s right.

Mom