Page 19 of Never the Same

And hello, anxiety, welcome back. Even my hands were becoming clammy. My palms went damp, goose bumps crawling up my arms.

“You were alone and running when we caught up with you,” Gideon added to the horror-story recap. “You didn’t know who we were, and you attacked us.”

I closed my eyes. Memories hurtled back to mind from that showdown. “That’s why you tackled and sedated me.” You held me but didn’t hit me. Didn’t fight back, just like you didn’t fight when I hit you today. “I remember waking up in a coffin, but it wasn’t locked. No dirt covering it.” Wood had pressed against my palms; a sweet, varnished smell had assaulted me. “If someone wanted to kill me by burying me alive, why not actually bury me?”

“For that matter, why remove your chain so your tracker would come back online?” Julian murmured, and I opened my eyes.

I needed that fearlessness back, or at least the meet-in-the-middle attitude, because this? This shaky feeling was gut-wrenchingly horrible. “So, someone scrubbed my memories. I didn’t just hit my head?”

“The doctors checked you. No head injuries,” Gideon said. “No substances they could find that’d cause memory loss, either. But something undetectable was clearly used. Aside from the sedatives we gave you, they only found remnants of another tranquilizer, which is probably how they kept you asleep while traveling, and why your first memory is waking up in that coffin.”

Julian slipped a hand beneath his shirt and showed me a chain around his neck. “We’re all wearing ours to remain dark for now since we don’t know if someone has access to our signals. We put your backup chain on you as well.”

I smoothed my fingers over the thin metal chain, the coolness grounding me.

“Someone clearly knew about the tattoo and the chain, but as to who did this to you and why . . . ?” I preferred Julian emphasizing words than abandoning his sentences.

“How long was I missing?”

“Less than twenty-four hours. We found you last night, which was Thursday. You woke up here this morning. Now it’s midafternoon.” Julian let me process the timeline before adding, “We’ll find who did this to you, and your memories will return.”

“This could be just a temporary thing happening in response to shock, right?”

“There are fast-acting drugs that wouldn’t show up on any tox screening that can make someone forget things,” Gideon said, his voice as grim as his expression. “We’ve used them on subjects before, so I’m more inclined to believe that’s what happened here than this being a result of shock.”

“How soon do they wear off?” I asked, feeling a flicker of hope.

“It can vary.” Gideon’s eyes locked on mine. “But we’ve never encountered a drug that can selectively delete your entire identity while leaving the rest of your mind intact.”

And there it is. The reason for his brooding, and why Julian’s smile had been nervous. They were worried I wouldn’t return to them in the way they’d last seen me. They’d be stuck with this empty shell of a woman who only remembered random facts, and what good would knowing those languages be if I didn’t recognize the people I’d once spoken them to?

My shoulders bowed forward, and for the first time since I woke up in that coffin, liquid gathered in my eyes.

“I, uh . . .” Gideon walked back, like my impending tears were contagious. “Mum and Dad are on their way here to see you. Should arrive in two hours or so. Our younger sister as well. Maybe seeing them will help.”

Help how? I had no idea who they were. “Are they doing okay?” I abandoned holding the chain and swiped away the first tear to break free. “Freaked out?”

Julian mussed up his hair with one hand while standing.

Thanks for the tell. I should be worried about our meeting.

“We’re not really the freak-out type.” Julian winced. Maybe he was embarrassed by the lack of human emotion from our family? Well, unless you counted a dry laugh or a dark scowl as emotions.

“So what type of family are we?” I pointed at the ceiling. “This estate. The tracker and chain. I speak seven languages and can clearly fight.” I waited for an answer and, when I didn’t get one, asked, “Are we Mafia or something?”

Julian with that smile again—and I had to say, it really was preferable to panic. “Quite the opposite.”

“So we’re good guys?”

“The two of us are usually good.” Julian gestured to Gideon and back to himself. “You?” He started as someone rapped at one of the double doors. “Always.”

“Yes?” Gideon called out, voice flat yet still piercing.

The doors slowly opened, and it wasn’t one of the doctors from earlier, but instead, someone who immediately stirred something inside me.

My body reacted, like a hum under my skin. Each step closer he took, my nervous energy waned and a sense of calm filled the void. What in the world? I set my hands on either side of me and sat taller, curious about my body’s strange reaction to him.

The man had broad shoulders, and from the looks of it, a strong body hidden beneath his jeans and tee. Slightly wavy black hair that was just long enough to run your fingers through. He had a killer face, too. Masculine features. A hard jawline covered in stubble with deep, dark eyes that were currently captivating me into some type of trance. I’d thought Julian could hypnotize me with his soothing voice, but this man could hold me prisoner with just one look.