“Good. So what do you want to talk about?”
Christian stepped around the desk and stalked toward her. She had to force herself to stand her ground and not back away. He was as beautiful as Ash in his own way, but he scared her, as Ash never did, despite what she’d seen. He came to a halt in front of her, and she almost squirmed under the intense scrutiny.
“Tell me, Faith,” he murmured. “Do you believe in vampires?”
Faith’s mind went blank for a moment, then filled with an image of the wall; it gave her the strength to answer. “Of course not.”
Christian smiled, showing the tips of sharp white fangs. “Really?”
She glanced away. They weren’t real. But her heart was slamming and inside her head the wall trembled.
Vampires don’t exist.
The words screamed through her mind.
“What would it take to make you believe?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing would make me believe. Vampires don’t exist.” She looked around her almost wildly. “You don’t understand—they can’t exist. They can’t.”
“What’s going on?” Ryan asked.
Christian turned away from her, and she breathed again.
“Her memories have been altered. Someone has already messed with her mind.”
“What are you talking about?”
Who’d messed with her mind? She knew there were cases where traumatized victims were helped by a form of hypnosis. Had that happened to her? Was that why the memories were so hazy?
Ryan ran a hand through his hair. He scrutinized her closely, as though he was trying to see into her head. “You think a vampire did something to her mind?”
What the hell was Ryan talking about? Why was he going along with this madness? She looked to Ash hoping for some help some sign that she wasn’t the only sane one here.
Vampires do not exist.
Ash nodded and cracks rippled through the wall. “We think the vamp who killed her mother. Maybe she interrupted. For some reason he left her alive but forced her to forget and added a compulsion that refused to let her believe that vampires existed.”
They were all crazy. That was it. They were all on some drug or something. She needed to get out of there. She whirled around meaning to make for the door, but Ryan blocked her with a hand on her arm.
“Let me go,” she snarled.
Instead, he held her for a moment. He whispered into her hair. “I’m sorry, but you need to face this, Faith.”
“Face what? What are you talking about?”
She raised her head and stared into his eyes. They were full of pity. “They think something was done to you. All those years ago, after your mother’s death. To make you forget.”
“Do you believe them?”
“Yes.” He turned to Christian. “Can you reverse it?”
“Probably. If the one who did it is weaker, then I can override the compulsion.”
Ryan gripped both her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. “Faith, do you want to remember? It might be better left alone.”
“Of course she wants to remember,” Ash said. “The truth is always better than lies.”
“Is it?” Ryan asked. “Or do you just want her to finally believe in the monsters? This has to be what’s right for Faith, not for you.”
She had no clue what was going on, but some unknown terror hovered on the edge of her mind.
“You said you wanted her to work with us. She can hardly do that as she is now.” Ash sounded quite reasonable…for a crazy person. He came toward her and Ryan dropped his hold on her arms. “You want to know, don’t you, Faith? You’re a detective, and that’s why you became a detective isn’t it—to discover the truth?”
Every cell in her body was screaming at her to run, instead, she found herself nodding slowly. She didn’t know why, she seemed to have lost control of her reactions.
A smile flashed across Ash’s face. “Good, girl.”
He touched Ryan lightly on the arm and the two men backed away. Ryan still seemed worried, but resigned and…curious.
“Faith, sit down.” The softly spoken words came from behind her, and she pivoted slowly to find Christian Roth standing close beside her.
She backed away and came up against the edge of the black leather sofa. Her knees gave way and she sank down. Christian sat beside her, grasped her shoulders, and turned her so she faced him.
“Look at me, Faith.”
She bit down on her lip but raised her gaze to his. He had beautiful eyes, pale silver, and this close she could see the circle of black around his irises. Mesmerizing eyes, deep, as though she could sink into them.
“Go back,” he murmured. “Go back to the night your mother was murdered.”
Part of her brain was screaming in terror, but the part in charge felt strangely calm and disassociated from that fear. And she allowed her thoughts to drift back.