“We are highly flammable and burn hot,” he said grimly. “Ash would be all that was left of Feiyan and Meng Tian.”
Pet filed that information away. “They didn’t know that, so still hoped Mom and Dad and two of us kids were alive somewhere. They searched the rest of the house, found Erika’s bedroom with all the blood, and then found us asleep in the closet. Randall picked up Quinn and passed her to Mary, then picked me up. That’s when I woke, but I didn’t know it was him at the time. His body was blocking the light, and he was just this big dark shape picking me up. I thought the bad men had returned.”
Pet released the fork and sat back in her seat, relaxing a little now that the worst of it was over. “I guess Mary contacted Dad’s family for help getting us out of the country. They arranged for the plane, and gave her passports for us with our names, now Petronella and Quinn Stone.”
“What were your names before that?” Santo asked.
Pet was a bit surprised that he couldn’t figure that out. She’d mentioned Meng Tian several times, but she answered the question. “Meng Petronella and Meng Quinn. We had taken Meng Tian’s name when he married our mother. I guess over here it would be Petronella and Quinn Meng, but there the surname goes first.”
“Your first names were Petronella and Quinn even in China?” he asked with disbelief.
Pet felt amusement try to lay claim to her lips as she took in his expression. “My mom fell in love with America while she was in school here. She loved everything American and hoped to move here permanently someday. So, when we were born, she gave us American names with meanings that were traits she hoped we would have.”
“What do your names mean?” Santo asked with interest.
“Petronella means rock, and Quinn means wise and intelligent or something.”
“Strong and smart,” he murmured.
She smiled softly and nodded. “Our older sister’s name was Erika, which means powerful ruler . . . or honorable ruler, maybe. I’m not sure anymore,” Pet admitted, unhappy with herself for forgetting that. It felt like she’d let Erika down somehow. Sighing, she reluctantly admitted, “Erika wasn’t our sister by birth. She was our cousin. Her mother was my mother’s younger sister. She had no husband and died giving birth to her. Our parents, Mom and our birth father, were newly married but took her in and named her and raised her. She was four years older than us and a big sister in every way.”
Santo nodded but asked, “You said Meng Tian’s family arranged new passports?”
Pet quickly followed the switch in topic, and suspecting what he wanted to know, said, “And social security numbers and new birth records so that we were suddenly Americans. They also read our minds to learn what had happened to Mom and Dad.” Her mouth tightened before she added, “They foolishly told Mary and Randall what they saw in our memories and Mary freaked. I remember that. I also remember her trying to convince them to blank out our minds to get rid of our memories,” she added grimly. “They refused. Thank God.”
He didn’t comment, but Pet could see that he was thinking and wondered what about.
Santo was thinking that he wasn’t surprised the immortals had refused. If they’d simply removed the memories of that night, those would have eventually returned, jostled back into Pet and Quinn’s minds by other memories of their life with Feiyan, Meng Tian, and Erika. It might not have happened for decades, but eventually things like that came back. A trip to China, their own child hiding in the closet during a game of tag, a child wetting themselves, even a bonfire or a picture could have opened the door and brought it all rushing in . . . No one could know what would bring it back, or when. They could have experienced any one of those things several times and then the third or tenth time the memories could suddenly spring forth. And then the trauma would have been compounded by its unexpectedness. In his experience, children’s minds were more adaptable than adults’. They could better handle trauma. Trying to hide something like that and then it’s popping out ten, twenty, or even fifty years later could have caused huge psychological issues.
The only way Meng Tian’s family could have ensured those memories never returned was to do a 3-on-1 on each child to completely wipe their minds. A dangerous thing to do with a lot of risks, including leaving them both beautiful little drooling idiots.
“Every time I remember Mary demanding they wipe out our memories, I just want to slap her,” Pet growled, reaching for her fork again. “They were my parents and she wanted to take them away.”
“Not your parents,” Santo said with certainty. “The pain and trauma.”
When she glanced at him with surprise, he reminded her, “I read her mind.”
“And?” Pet asked, stiffening.
“She fears she failed Feiyan with you.”
“Because I’m not a doctor like them and Quinn?” she suggested grimly.
Santo shook his head. “Because you clung to the past.”
“What?” Pet asked with surprise.
“You call Feiyan Mom,” he pointed out.
“Feiyan was my mom,” she said resentfully.
“But you call Mary Mother.”
Santo knew he didn’t have to point out that Mom was a more affectionate title than Mother. He could tell by her expression that she saw that. But he did point out, “Mary has been a mother to you for thirty years, Pet, yet you show more affection in title for a woman who has been dead that long and was able to mother you for only six.”
“It’s hard to love someone who wants to take even the memory of your own mother from you. Memories were all I had left.”
Santo could almost feel her pain in her words, but suspected it was just the tip of the iceberg. Pet and Quinn had suffered a terrible trauma, but Mary and Randall could never have taken them to a mortal psychologist to help them deal with it. Doing so would either have revealed the existence of immortals, and that they weren’t legal Americans, or convinced the psychologist that they were delusional or suffering some other mental illness. It had left Mary and Randall to try to deal with their trauma on their own. Something they weren’t really equipped to do. They had inevitably made mistakes with them that they hadn’t even realized they were making at the time. Like this business about the wiping of the memories. Mary probably didn’t even realize that Pet had heard that, or how she’d taken it. So had never corrected Pet’s misconceptions.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one needing counseling in this relationship, Santo realized, and almost felt better for it. He had just started talking to Marguerite’s son-in-law, Greg, who used to be a mortal psychologist and now counseled both mortals and those immortals willing to seek such help. Perhaps he could convince Pet to seek him out too.
In the meantime, though, he might be able to help clear up some things for her, Santo thought, and growled. “What if Quinn was gang-raped and murdered?”
Pet blanched at the thought.
“Mary and Feiyan were like sisters,” he pointed out. “That is how she felt.”
Santo let her think about that for a minute, and then asked, “And if Parker witnessed his mother being raped and murdered? What would you want most in the world for him?”
“I’d want—” Her eyes widened and then closed on a sigh as she finished, “to take the memories away and save him from carrying that horrible trauma in his head.”
Santo grunted and waited. After a moment, she opened her eyes, uncertainty on her expression.
“So . . . Mary wasn’t trying to take my mother away and replace her in my memory?”
Even though Pet had concluded that she’d want to do the same thing for Parker as her adoptive mother had tried to do for her, Santo wasn’t surprised she would have doubts. She had believed a certain storyline for so long that it would be hard to adjust her vision of events. Santo knew he could help her with that, though, and nodded before saying, “I read her mind. She was desperate to protect and care for you both. She still is,” he added, thinking of the woman’s reaction once she’d realized he was immortal. Mary Stone obviously held all immortals to blame for the death of Feiyan. Which was a shame, since this was one of the few times when a life mate wouldn’t have had to leave her family behind. Mary and Randall knew about immortals, so Pet’s not aging would not have had to be hidden once he turned her. Which made him wonder—
“Did Mary and Randall know about immortals before your mother’s death?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted slowly. “I presumed so, but maybe not.”
“But they definitely flew back to America with that knowledge intact,” Santo muttered thoughtfully.
Pet eyed him with curiosity. “Is that unusual?”
“Sì.” Santo nodded. It was very unusual, and normally wouldn’t have happened . . . unless there was a concern that Pet and Quinn were still in danger from the rogue immortals who had killed the rest of their family. The Stones might have needed that knowledge to keep the girls safe.
He supposed, at the time, that threat would have been a definite possibility if someone in this Brass Circle had discovered the twins yet lived and where they were. While the very fact that these rogues had a name like Brass Circle suggested they were organized where most rogues weren’t, there were other concerns here too that made that a possibility. The leader’s letting the girls live, but not doing so openly, for instance. That was an indication that he either wasn’t the actual leader, just the leader of that attack with orders to kill the whole family, or that he hadn’t been confident enough in his control over the other men in the organization that they would have obeyed his decision to let them live. Had he worried others in the group might insist on killing Pet and Quinn?
Santo considered that briefly, and then pushed the thoughts away. It had all taken place thirty years ago. The chances were no one from the Brass Circle would come after Pet and her sister now. Still, it might not be a bad idea to get what information he could on the group. He’d have to ask around, Santo decided. Just to be safe.