Crap. It was one thing to have to watch Mack die, but it would be an entirely different breed of horror returning to the scene of the crime and watching King dig him up.
Seriously. I need to track down whoever erased my memories. I was beginning to wonder if they’d only been doing me a favor.
~~~
Unwilling to once again brave the “deplorable conditions” of commercial airlines—King’s words—or risk his necessary “supplies” for the ritual being touched by anyone, we made the nine-hour drive back to that cabin in the desert. For the first hour of the trip, I had to listen to King curse the gods of ancient Greece because his helicopter was somewhere on the East Coast. Then the next four hours, the car—a black Mercedes sedan with tinted windows—was filled with a dreadful silence, interrupted by his phone ringing every five minutes.
“If you’re not going to answer it, why don’t you shut it off?” I finally asked around five in the afternoon, on my last leg of any civilized emotions.
His blue eyes, with eagle-like intensity, remained focused on the road. “I am waiting for a very important call.”
“I see.” I glanced his way and noticed how he had a blue light all around him.
“What do all of the colors mean?” I asked.
He looked at me for a brief moment and then brought his eyes back to the road. “Every Seer is different, I’m told, but red is anger, hate, rage, and pain. Black is death. Green is life.”
“What about blue?”
“Sorrow and regret.”
“That’s what I thought.”
His phone rang again and the name “Mia” popped up on the screen of the center console.
“Avoiding her is only making it worse,” I said. “She’s probably worried.”
“I am aware of this,” he replied coldly.
“Just answer it. Tell her what happened. I’m sure that the not knowing is torturing her.”
King sneered. “This, coming from you, is rich.”
“Why?”
“Haven’t you wondered why you cannot remember your past?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Because you couldn’t take it anymore—this truth you speak so fondly of. It was too much for you.”
He had to be messing with me, but that look on his face said otherwise. “So what did I do?”
“Fifty years ago, I tracked you down in London. Your Seer gift was just beginning to awaken, as were your memories. This is how I always knew you were coming—your thoughts become quite loud. And because you’re connected to Mack, and I to him, it’s not hard for someone of my particular skill set and background to find you.”
I bobbed my head and looked out the window at the winter sun dipping below the horizon without fanfare or glitz. Quiet. Melancholy. Just like me. I didn’t like where this story was going.
He continued, “But this time, before I took your head, you didn’t fight, you didn’t cry. You simply begged me to give you a moment. You said you couldn’t bear it anymore.”
“Bear what?” I asked with a dreaded sigh.
“I wasn’t sure what you did at the time—but now I know that your gift is healing. You healed yourself the only way you could: by making yourself forget everything. Mack, me, your past.”
I was completely stunned—yet, I kind of wasn’t. Probably because somewhere in the back of my mind, I already knew what he’d just told me.
“But I didn’t forget—not really,” I said.
He shrugged. “It is like I told you; some emotions are meant to be felt. We cannot truly erase them.”
I finally understood. I’d tried to block it all out, but it hadn’t worked. I was a Seer. Ancient. Powerful. Connected to everything. And asking myself to forget Mack was like asking myself to forget my own soul or who I was. At the end of the day, I could never change or destroy what was inside my heart. It was part of me. So seeing Mack, gazing into his eyes, had restored the piece of me connected to him. It could never be erased. It had only been buried below the surface, just waiting for the right catalyst. My memories—those moments in time that were stored in my brain—well, those were gone.
I laughed out loud, chuckling toward the ceiling of the car and smacking my knee. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I tried to heal myself, but ended up being more broken than ever.”
“You simply wanted to be free of your own pain,” King said. “I can relate. Regardless, after that, you couldn’t remember a thing. I ended up sparing your life and using your gifts for a while.”
My jaw dropped. “Well, that was kind of rude.”
He shrugged. “Waste not, want not. I ended up killing you anyway.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“You may have forgotten your past, but you were still just as stubborn and disobedient as always. You ended up crossing paths with Mack one day—you were supposed to be out at a job, but decided to show up at my townhouse in London. I quickly got rid of you.”