“And I’m Sam?”
“Yes. Samuel Patrick McNamara.” Fear coiled in Skylynn’s belly as she saw the confusion in her brother’s eyes. Had he lost his mind?
He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t remember who I am.”
“Then how did you get here?” This had to be a joke. Sam had always liked to tease her, like the time he had told her that her face would turn blue if she chewed blueberry bubble gum.
“Some guy at the hospital ...”
“Hospital?” Her gaze moved over him again. “What hospital? Were you wounded in action?”
“I had a high fever for a while.” Sam lifted one hand to the back of his head. “I got shot. They said I hit my head pretty hard, probably when I fell.”
“Go on.”
“Anyway, some guy at the hospital recognized me. He told me my grandfather lived in Vista Verde. I looked up the address in the phone book. Is he here?”
Sky folded her arms over her chest, wishing she didn’t have to tell him bad news when he’d just returned home. But putting it off wouldn’t make it any easier. “Granda passed away while you were gone.”
“Were we close?”
“Very. He raised the two of us after our parents died.” Sky bit down on her lower lip. How could he not remember?
“Boyle said you were living in Chicago.”
“I was, but I moved back here after Granda passed away.” She reached for his hand again. “Come on, let’s have a cup of coffee. We have a lot to talk about.”
Skylynn sat by the front window, staring out at the rain. Sam was home, wounded in mind and body. They had talked for almost three hours, with Sam asking her one question after another about their parents, their grandparents, events of the past.
Sky had dug out an old family album, hoping that photographs of people he had known and places they had visited might help him remember. She had waited, hoping that seeing their old house, his old friends, might trigger a memory, but so far it wasn’t happening. Sometimes she thought she saw a spark of recognition in his eyes, but then it would fade.
“Who’s this?” he had asked, pointing at a photograph of Nick taken shortly before the wedding.
Sky had stared at the picture. How had she missed that one? After the divorce, she had thrown away everything that reminded her of her ex-husband. She told Sam about her disastrous marriage and quick divorce in as few words as possible and then pointed at a photo of Sam and a small black and tan puppy.
“Do you remember Nellie?” she asked. “We found her in an alley. She’d been hit by a car and you nursed her back to health.”
Sam stared at the photo for a long time, his brow furrowed, and then he shook his head.
“Maybe seeing your room will help,” Sky suggested, and Sam followed her up the stairs.
She had stood in the doorway, watching as he walked around the room. It was still decorated as it had been when Sam was in high school, with posters of rock stars and baseball pennants on the walls. A number of CDs and DVDs lined the shelf over his bed, an old footlocker held his favorite baseball glove, a bat, a football, a pair of inline skates, and other odds and ends from his teen years.
When he was finished, he looked at her and shrugged.
Skylynn hid her disappointment behind a smile as they returned to the living room. Telling Sam to rest, she escaped into the kitchen. For a moment, she stood at the sink fighting back her tears. She had to stay positive for Sam’s sake. Remembering that she had read somewhere that familiar scents could awaken old memories, she made a batch of chocolate chip cookies.
As soon as the cookies were done, she put a dozen or so on a plate, poured two glasses of milk, and carried everything out into the living room.
Sam looked up, smiling for the first time since he had come home. “Smells good.”
“They’re your favorite. Remember how we always liked to eat the raw dough and how Grams used to pretend to get mad whenever we snitched some?”
Sam’s face scrunched up as he tried to remember, and then he shook his head. “No. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Don’t try to force it. I know it’ll all come back to you.”
Sam raked his hand through his hair. “What if it doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll just have to make new memories.”
That had been two hours ago. Now, she found herself wondering why the army had released Sam when he was still suffering from amnesia. She didn’t know anything about the illness other than that it was usually caused by a sharp blow to the head, which was apparently what had happened to Sam.
She paused as a horrible thought occurred to her. What if the army hadn’t released Sam? What if he was AWOL? Lordy, didn’t she have enough on her plate without worrying that the army would come and arrest her brother?
She glanced upstairs. Sam had gone up to take a nap. Kaiden was asleep in her room. That was going to require some explaining, she thought. What would Sam think when he found out Kaiden had been spending the night here? Then again, maybe seeing Kaiden would be the key that would unlock Sam’s memory. Lord, she hoped so.
Thorne woke with the setting of the sun. A single breath, and he knew Sky wasn’t alone in the house. A second breath told him the visitor was her brother, Sam. So, the boy was alive.
Rising, Thorne dissolved into mist. Moments later, he reappeared in his own house, where he took a quick shower, then pulled on a pair of clean jeans, a long-sleeved gray T-shirt, and a pair of running shoes. Whistling softly, he walked across the street and knocked on Sky’s door.
He had to laugh at the expression on her face when she saw him standing on the porch.
“What are you doing out there? I thought you were upstairs.”
“I was, but I needed a shower and a change of clothes.”
“You could have showered here,” she said, smiling up at him. “I could have washed your back.”
“Sounds nice, but I wasn’t sure how your brother would feel about that.”
“How’d you know he was here?”
He tapped the side of his nose. “Vampire, remember?”
“Oh, right.” She kept forgetting about his preternatural senses. “Well, get on in here.”
Thorne followed her into the front room and sat beside her on the sofa. “So, how is he?”
“Not good. He’s got amnesia.”
Thorne rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m surprised they let him come home.”
“Me, too. I’m worried about him. He looks ... haunted.”
“Well, I’d say that was normal, considering what he’s been doing and where he’s been.”
“I know, but ... he’s so thin and pale. He doesn’t remember how he got wounded or what caused him to lose his memory. Of course, he doesn’t remember me, either.”
Thorne slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, in time. He’s young and resilient. And he’s in good hands.”
“Thanks.” Sky leaned into him, grateful for his nearness. She wasn’t afraid of anything, not when Kaiden was beside her. “Maybe you could read his mind and find out what happened?”
“Maybe. It depends on what caused his amnesia.”
“What do you mean?”
“If it’s a physical problem, then there’s not much I can do. If he’s burying something unpleasant, something he doesn’t want to remember, then I might be able to help, depending on how deeply he’s buried it. I can try, if you want.”
“I don’t know. Let me think about it.”
“Sure.”
“I’m so glad he’s home, but I really think he needs to go back to the hospital where they can treat his amnesia.”
“I guess that’s something the two of you will have to decide.”
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with worry. “What if he starts having flashbacks or he decides to, oh, I don’t know, just take off without telling me?”
“Calm down, Sky Blue. Letting your imagination run away with you wo
n’t help.”
“I know. You’re right. I just can’t help worrying about him.” She smiled wistfully. “That’s funny, isn’t it? Sam was always the one who looked after me.”
“I guess that’s what families are for. You take turns looking after each other.”
“Was your family like that?”
“Not hardly. My parents were all about appearances.”
“What do you mean?”
“My father was landed gentry.”
“I’m not sure what that means, exactly.”
“Back in the sixteenth century it meant a landowner who was untitled. Land equaled wealth in those days. My father lived off the rents he collected from tenant farmers. Class was all important at the time. My parents were somewhere between the aristocracy and the middle class. My mother was very conscious of her place in society, always worried about making a good impression on her betters. I didn’t care about any of that. I was more interested in ...” He paused as he reconsidered his next words.
“In what?”
“Mostly wenching and gambling.”
“Wenching? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I seem to be down to just one wench at the moment.”
“That’s right, mister!” She punched him in the arm. “And you’d better keep it that way.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s my plan.”
“Good.” She snuggled into his arms again, and that was how Sam found them a few minutes later.
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Skylynn sat up and put some space between herself and Kaiden. “Sam, come on in.”
He entered the room warily, as if he expected to be attacked. She noticed he had showered and shaved and changed into a shirt and a pair of jeans he had left behind when he enlisted. Keeping his gaze on Thorne, Sam sat in the chair next to the fireplace.
“Sam, this is Kaiden Thorne.” Sky watched her brother’s face, searching for some sign of recognition. “He lives across the street.”
Sam nodded, his expression blank.
“It’s good to see you again, Sam,” Thorne said.
“Yeah, thanks.” Sam muttered.
“Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Thorne suggested. “I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”
Sky looked at Kaiden, her gaze searching his.
Thorne reached for her hand. Her fingers tingled at his touch, and then she heard his voice in her mind.
My being here is making him uncomfortable. It’ll be better if I go.
Sky nodded. “Thanks for coming by.” Rising, she followed Kaiden to the front door. Lowering her voice so Sam wouldn’t hear, she asked, “Will you come back later?”
“After he’s asleep,” Thorne said. Drawing her close, he kissed her, hard and quick, and then he left the house.
Skylynn stared after him a moment; then, with a sigh, she closed the door and went back into the living room.
“So, things look pretty tight with you and that Thorne guy,” Sam remarked.
“I like him a lot,” Sky admitted, resuming her seat on the sofa.
“Are you gonna marry him?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t asked me.”
“What if he did?”
“I don’t know,” Sky said, frowning. Did vampires even get married?
“I’m not married, or anything, am I?” Sam asked.
“No. You dated several girls before you were sent to Iraq, but as far as I know, you weren’t serious about any of them.”
“Good thing,” he muttered. “None of them would want me now.”
“Sam ...”
“You don’t know what it’s like!” He stood abruptly, his eyes flashing with anger and frustration. “You tell me this is our house, that you’re my sister. It’s just words. They don’t mean anything. It’s like I’m nobody.”
“Maybe you should go back to the hospital. Maybe they could help you there.”
“Even my own sister doesn’t want me.”
“That’s not true! I just don’t know how to help you.”
“Nobody can help me! Nobody! I’m out of here!”
“Sam, wait! Where are you going?”
“Who the hell cares?” he shouted, and ran out of the house.
“Sam!” She ran after him but he was much faster than she was. She stopped at the end of the block, one hand pressed to her side as she peered down the street. Where would he go?
Telling herself he wouldn’t go far, she went back home to wait.
Fighting tears, Sam ran down the street, faster and faster, as if by running swiftly enough, he could leave the past behind and find himself again.
It was impossible, of course, like so many things in life.
After several blocks, he slowed to a walk. Hands shoved in his pockets, head down, he wandered aimlessly up one street and down another until he found himself nearing a strip mall next to the highway.
Music drew him into a small, neighborhood bar. He paused at the entrance; then, muttering, “What the hell,” he pushed the door open and went inside.
It was a small place with a western motif. A wagon wheel chandelier hung from the ceiling, there was sawdust on the floor, a brass rail along the bar, a picture of a herd of buffalo stampeding across the plains on one wall, several smaller pictures of cowboys and Indians on another. On the small stage located in one corner of the room, a young woman crooned a ballad while a handful of couples line-danced on the handkerchief-sized dance floor.
Sam found an empty stool at the bar and sat down, only then realizing he didn’t have a dime to his name.
He looked up when a bartender wearing a black vest and string tie asked, “What can I get for you?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Let me know when you’ve made up your mind,” the bartender said, and quickly moved on.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Sam looked at the woman sitting on the bar stool beside him. “You talkin’ to me?”
“I don’t see anybody else sitting there.” She smiled, a wide friendly smile. “Are you all right? You look sort of... I don’t know, lost.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Lost is what I am.”
“Maybe I can help you find your way.”
Sam looked at her sharply. He might not remember who he was, but he recognized a come-on when he heard it.
“I don’t think so,” he murmured, and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. She was the most remarkable creature he had ever seen. Her skin was almost translucent. Hair, like brown silk, flowed over her shoulders in luxurious waves. Her eyes, beneath thick dark lashes, were the deepest shade of green he had ever seen.
“Well, my offer of a drink still stands.”
“Thanks, but I can’t buy you one in return.”
“Did I ask?” She signaled for the bartender. “Now, what would you like?”
Chapter 29
Thorne was sitting in front of the fireplace, lost in thoughts of Skylynn, when she knocked on the door.
“Sky,” he murmured, “this is a pleasant surprise.”
“I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Sam’s run off.” She shook her head. “I’m such an idiot. We were talking. He was feeling bad about not being able to remember anything and I ... I suggested maybe he should go back to the hospital, and he got upset and ran out of the house.”
“How long ago?”
“I don’t know. Half an hour maybe. I was hoping he’d come back. I don’t think he has any money. He doesn’t remember anybody in town. Where would he go?”
“All right, calm down. I’ll find him.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“I can search faster on my own.”
“But ... oh, right.” She smiled faintly. “Vampire.”
“Right,” he said with a wink. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. It shouldn’t take long to hunt him down.”
Taking Sky by the hand, he walked her across the street. He paused on
the sidewalk in front of the house. Lifting his head, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
It took only moments to sort Sam’s scent from all the others.
“Go inside and lock the door,” Thorne said.
“What about Sam?”
“I’ve got his scent. It won’t be hard to follow. Don’t answer the door for anyone but me.”
She looked at him, frowning, and then, remembering Girard, she nodded. “Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I can’t help it.”
Smiling, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. “And I love you for it. Now go inside so I’ll know you’re safe.”
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed for the porch.
Thorne watched her run up the walkway. When she reached the foot of the porch steps, she turned and waved, then hurried up the stairs and into the house.
He waited until he heard the turn of the lock before starting off down the street.
As he followed the boy’s scent, Thorne thought about his own past. He could sympathize with Skylynn’s brother even though he, himself, had never lost his memory. Still, when he had become a vampire, he had lost everything that was familiar to him. Fear of discovery had kept him away from his favorite gaming halls and the young men of his acquaintance. And it had forever destroyed any hope, however faint it might have been, of repairing the riff with his parents, something he had not realized he wanted until it was beyond his reach.
Once Death had abandoned him, he had wandered across the countryside feeling lost and alone, cut off from everything and everyone he knew. In those days, filled with anger and resentment, he had often killed those he preyed upon. As a young vampire, those deaths had meant nothing to him. Now, older and wiser, denied the pleasures of home and family, he realized how precious mortal life was. And with that knowledge had come an abiding regret for the lives he had so thoughtlessly and callously taken.
He followed Sam’s trail into a local tavern. His relief at finding the boy was quickly replaced by alarm when he recognized the woman sitting beside him.
Cassandra. What the devil was she doing here?