“Yes. I have to know, Byron.” It was like I was missing a part of me. A part of me that I couldn’t even begin to heal until I understood what it was.
Byron slid a finger along the apple of my cheek and looked deep into my eyes. He stared at for me for the longest moment before giving me a small nod. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
I swallowed and my Adam’s apple stuck in my throat. My palms turned sweaty and a cold shiver wrapped around my spine.
Byron went to stand up, but I grabbed his hand.
“What if… what if he can’t find the memories? Or what if they change who I am—”
Byron cupped my jaw fiercely. “Then we will figure it out together. If you haven’t figured it out yet, Wilder. I am all in. You aren’t on your own.”
“Okay,” I said with a shaky nod. Although I wasn’t sure I believed him. Or something inside me was stopping me from believing him. I’d spent so much time doing everything on my own, that having someone want to be in the thick of it with me was… fuck. I wasn’t going to say ‘nice’ again.
Having Byron with me was…pleasant? Fuck me. I’d just called a psychopath ‘pleasant’. But in all seriousness, the fact that he was here with me made me feel a little less alone.
I picked up the slim little black business card off my shelf and looked at it again. A deep sense of foreboding uncurled in my gut as I stared at the sharp silver letters. Was I doing the right thing?
No time like the present to find out.
I clenched the card in my hand, the edges pressing into my palm, and thought his name with intent. I poured all my yearning into the call and hoped it was enough.
I could feel Byron staring at me from across the room, but he didn’t interfere. I liked that he trusted me enough to just leave me to it. Dara would have been interrupting and asking questions instead of just giving me the space to actually do it. I loved my sister, but she was an interfering bitch sometimes.
Defeat and despair started to slither under my skin the longer I started at those perfectly formed silver letters.
He wasn’t coming.
I wasn’t worthy enough.
Couldn’t say I was surprised.
Maybe this was for the best. Did I really want to know what my father did to me?
I sighed and chucked the business card back onto my bookshelf. It was a stupid idea, anyway.
“Wilder?” Byron said. “What’s that?”
He pointed behind me and I could feel a soft breeze ruffle the ends of my hair. When I turned around, there was a small swirling vortex, a black hole the size of a football, which was growing bigger by the second.
I took a step back as the wind intensified. Byron wrapped his arm around my waist and jerked me towards him, holding me tightly against his chest.
The vortex grew and pale blue lightning flickered and sparked around the edges. A silhouette started to appear in the centre in the vague shape of a cloaked figure, but I couldn’t quite see it. I had to shield my eyes as the wind grew wilder to the point where it felt like there was a tornado in my living room.
And then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.
The silence after the howling of the wind was eerie.
“Whew,” someone screamed. “What a rush!”
I looked up at the space where the vortex had been and found myself looking at a man pulling down the hood of his cloak. Hewas dressed like a reaper except his cloak shimmered purple and silver instead of the traditional black.
He threw the hood back on his cloak and I got my first real look at a Memory Wraith. Luminous purple hair stood up in all directions on top of his head, and he was about seven foot tall. His face was pale and angular with runes painted in a line beneath his eyes. I wasn’t sure what language it was, but I could sense how ancient this man’s power was. And his eyes…
They were two completely pitch-black orbs.
It was like looking deep into the maw of a void.
“Hey, my man. It’s great to meet you. Sorry about leaving you hanging there for a minute. It’s Christmas and my girl was tearing a strip off me about working.” The Wraith held his hand out and I could see all the same types of runes marking the length of his fingers.