I consider this. “I can’t remember.” But it’s a lie.
He nods, flipping my wrist over. Then he leans back and takes out another vial, one filled with a purple liquid.
“I’ve seen that before,” I tell him. “Back in The Colony’s hospital.”
“And probably many times,” he says and holds the vile up between his finger. “Because it’s what causes the little gaps in your memories.”
I almost choke. Monarch put that medicine in me. Monarch erased my mind?
“Now Kayla, I’m going to give you two options and I don’t do it for everyone, only for special cases like yourself,” he continues. “Sometimes, people come here from The Colony, just ordinary Bellators who just happen to be a talented fighter. But sometimes there are Bellators who are different—unique—and for those I offer another choice.” He flips the purple vile into the palm of his hand. “I can make you forget everything, so that you can wake up believing this has always been your life.”
“Why would you do that?” I bite at my thumbnail. “And what do you mean by unique?” I ask, wondering if he knows all my secrets.
“Unique in the sense that the things you’re going to remember are going to be painful,” he says. “But it’s your choice. Either I can inject the purple—the radieră into you and you can go on your way, thinking this is how it’s always been, or I can give you the clear—the minte and we can gradually start unwinding what’s tangled up inside your head.”
I notice the fact that the names’ of the medicines are spoken in the language of the Highers. “I won’t remember everything all at once?”
He shakes his head. “It’s a slow process, especially if your memories are painful. But like I said, you can choose to forget, if you want.”
“Were you a unique case?” I ask and he nods. “And what did you choose?”
He raises his missing hand. “I chose to remember.”
It’s like I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life and I know what I have to do, without even thinking about it. I tap the clear vial with my finger. “I want to remember.”
He presses his lips together and with a grave expression, nods. “Okay, then.” He places the purple vial back in the drawer, takes out a syringe, and stabs it into the vial. “Brace yourself, Kayla” he says and then inserts the needle into my arm.
My hands clutch onto the armrest. I suck in a breath of air as the clear medicine pumps through my veins. I wait for my memory, but I can only see red.
Blood.
Blood everywhere.
I can’t see through the blood.
I scream, but is it for real? Or in my head?
Pain. Pain surrounds me. My skin peels away as I claw at my own flesh.
Someone screams murder, not me, but a small child. I rock back and forth, grabbing at my hair. Lights flicker on and off, the walls rattle—there’s so much blood.
“Make it stop!” I cry.
Flashes of light, needles piercing. I can’t breathe. I don’t know who I am. Or where I am.
Then I see it: the red door. Watchers guard it. But I’m inside, not out—I’m trapped.
Help, I want to scream, but my lips are sewn together. I raise my hands, blood covering them. Not my blood. Someone else’s.
A river of blood pours down from the ceiling and I drown in it.
I’m screaming. My eyes are open, my gaze darting around the room. Cedrix. Aiden. They are both restraining me. I knock them to their backs and am on my feet before either of them can figure out what happened.
“What did you do to me?” I breath loud, a breath that is not my own—a fearful breath.
Cedrix holds up his hand. “Easy, Kayla, we’re not going to hurt you.”
I back for the door, shaking my head. “What was that?”
“Kayla.” Cedrix stands. “You need to calm down. I warned you that what you saw might not be pretty.”
“Might not be pretty.” I tug at my hair, wanting to forget whatever it was I saw.
“Kayla.” It’s Aiden who speaks, soft and soothing. “Just give me your hand. It’s all going to be okay. No one here is going to hurt you.”
I let go of my hair, realizing how bad I’m trembling. I stare at his hand for a moment, before taking it and the softness of his pulse soothes me.
He lets out a breath, flicking a glance at Cedrix. “I’m going to take her to get something to drink,” he tells him. “See if I can get her to calm down.”
Cedrix nods, but points at my arms. “Clean her up first. We don’t want anyone else to know what’s going on.”
I turn my free arm over, my jaw dropping at the blood trailing my arm. “What happened to me?”
“You did it to yourself.” Aiden leads me to the cupboard.
Cedrix stands. “Get her a drink and then come back,” he says. “I need to talk to Dominic, but I want to see her again when she’s calmed down.”
Aiden nods and then Cedrix leaves, closing the door behind him.
“I’m not thirsty,” I say as I sit down and Aiden dabs my arm with a rag.
“This drink is not for thirst,” he says. “It’s to calm you down.”
He wipes at my other arm, cleaning the blood away so that all that remains is my smooth skin, decorated with faint pink lines that are already vanishing. Then he tosses the rag into a trash bin and he pulls me to my feet and out the door. But I can feel it now: his fear. He fears I’ve done something wrong.
And so do I.
Chapter 19
“Feeling better?” he asks me.
I nod, setting the cup on the table.
We’re out in the main room, the one everyone crowds. When we first came in, I endured a lot of stares. Aiden says it’s because I’m new and they’ll get over it eventually.
“You know we all saw things we didn’t want to see,” Aiden calls to me over the crowd.
I nod, taking a sip of the cherry red drink that tastes sweeter than anything else that’s ever touched my lips.
“But you’ll get over it and learn to move on,” he adds and then pauses. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head, staring into the cup. “Why did I scratch my arms like that?”
“I don’t know.” And he really doesn’t. “But don’t worry. It’ll get easier. Everything does.”
I give him a fake smile from across the table.
“Don’t do that.” He frowns. “Don’t put up a wall.”
“I’m not.” I lie.
Abruptly, he’s on his feet and leading me to a dark corner, away from the ears of everyone.
“Are you sure you want to talk about it?” he asks softly. “Maybe I can help you deal with it.”
“You could help by telling me some things about me,” I suggest, not wanting to taste the potent taste of the clear liquid ever again.
He shakes his head, his dark bangs falling into his eyes. “If I did, then you might not remember things at all. It’s how it works. If I tell you stuff that I know it could interfere with the things you know.”
“Oh.” I frown at my cup.
“Kayla,” he says. “Whatever you saw—no matter how bad it is—there’s still good things. I promise.” His honey eyes sparkle in the faint light. He leans in, his lips so close and his breath tickles my ear. “I can’t talk about it with you, but can I suggest that maybe next time you should be thinking of me before you go under.”
I lean back, exploring his eyes, wondering just how good of friends we were back inside The Colony.
“It’ll get better.” He winks at me. “Juniper.”
The sound of my nickname rolling off his tongue causes my body to shiver. “Do I frighten you?”
His expression twists in confusion. “What?”
My grip tightens around the cup. “Do you ever think I’ll hurt you?”
He spits out his drink, red liquid splattering all over the floor and dirt walls. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Frighten me? Are you joking?”
“So I take it that’s a no?” I take another sip of my drink, slowly, breathing in the sweet scent, trying to forget all the blood I saw all over my hands.
He sets his cup down on a chair and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Yeah, that’s a no.”
“Has anyone ever remembered things wrong?” I ask. “Or have they not understood what they were seeing?”
He has no idea what I’m talking about. “I don’t think so.”
I’m yanked back to my lying ways, not wanting to reveal what I saw—not wanting him to know I’m different. “Never mind.” I glance around, avoiding his questioning gaze. “So what do we do now? Just wait until morning then go back to the hillside? I’m really eager to check up on Maci.”
“Maci’s fine,” he says, his gaze burning into the back of my head. “And we need to go see Cedrix before we leave.”
“And when will that be?”
“He’ll let us know when he’s ready.” He pauses, sliding his hand across the table and entwining our fingers. “I have an idea.” He lifts me to my feet and leads me across the room. I still carry my cup, some of it spilling on the floor. This time instead of going up, we go down, taking a flight of stairs that dips us deeper underground. The air is heavier and damper, but it’s far enough that it shuts away the noise and fear pulsating from people and my head feels clearer.
“Who built this place?” I ask as we wind down the long, narrow tunnel lit up by the same lanterns as the hillside.
He lets go of my hand, but only to pick up a lantern. “I think it was originally an old shelter where people hid from the vampires when the disease first started to spread.”
“How did it end up empty?” I wonder. “Did they all die?”
He shrugs, his head bumping the ceiling and he brushes the dirt from his hair. “The first Gathering members made it bigger and turned it into all this.” He gestures at the walls and ground.