Home > Snap, Crackle ...(3)

Snap, Crackle ...(3)
Author: Dale Mayer

Stefan—and there was no way not to recognize him—stared down at her in surprise. “You arrived at my door alone,” he said.

She shook her head frantically, only to wince, as the inside of her brains pounded against the bone. “No,” she whispered, “I was not.”

At his startled exclamation, he said, “I will check,” and he disappeared.

She sagged back onto the bed and sent out a message. Where are you? Where are you?

Nocturne’s calming voice whispered right back, I’m here.

She sighed with relief. Don’t do that to me, she said.

I’m here. Just rest.

And she drifted back under again. When she woke the next time, Stefan and the hunter stared at her. She frowned. “It’s very odd to be stared at like that. You make me nervous.”

“Good,” said the man who had carried her in.

She knew him. Or knew his type. She couldn’t be sure which. She felt his energy wafting her way, the anger and the worry. She studied him closely, but she didn’t recognize him. “Why do you want me to be afraid?”

He shook his head. “You are already afraid. I just want to know why.”

“You want to know many things,” she murmured. “That doesn’t mean you get the answers.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You came here for help.”

“You are not the one to help me.” She shifted her gaze to a woman, leaning against the doorjamb. Beth studied her carefully, as she didn’t know who this person was, whether friend or foe. She looked around for Stefan, but he wasn’t here. “Where is Stefan?”

The woman answered, “In the kitchen, making you tea.”

“Tea?” she asked hazily.

“Yes, tea.”

“What if I don’t want tea?” she asked in confusion.

“It’s medicinal, for your head, and he is very good at what he does.”

Beth already knew he was very good at what he did, but nobody ever understood just what that was. She didn’t know either.

Just then Stefan’s voice called out and said, “I’m here. I’m here.”

She looked at him, feeling the same sense of relief as when she had first laid eyes on him. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he said, looking at her. “But I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”

She slowly closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the bed, hot tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Of course he didn’t know who she was. Why would she have thought that he could even think such a thing? But the betrayal, that sense of indignity that he didn’t know her just ate at her. Finally she opened her eyes to see everybody still standing here, waiting for her to speak. “You do know me,” she said, “but it’s been a long time.”

He studied her closely. “I’m poor with names,” he said, “but I’m good with energy.”

She gave him a twisted smile. “How about altered energy?”

His gaze widened and then sharpened. “How altered?”

“One-hundred-steps-forward altered.”

“What do you mean?”

She didn’t say anything. Wasn’t a whole lot she could say. She waited to see if Stefan would be who she thought he was or not. And, if not, she needed to get out of here and fast. She waited as Stefan studied her. Or rather searched … but for what? “What are you doing?” she asked curiously.

He shook his head. “I’m searching for someone I recognize.”

She nodded. “Maybe not someone but maybe something?”

He frowned.

“Meaning, you don’t recognize me because everything has changed,” she said. “They did that to me. But maybe you’ll recognize this.” She lifted her hand and slowly rolled her palm outward.

He stepped forward to study her offered hand. “What am I looking at?”

Despair washed through her. Had it changed so much? She looked down at her palm, spreading her fingers wide, and the same spiderweb network of scars remained.

He looked at it, and recognition slammed into him with a powerful jolt. He sucked in his breath and reached a hand to the wall for support.

Immediately the woman rushed to his side. “Stefan, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer but turned to face the bed.

Beth stared back at him. She knew her soul was in her eyes, desperate for recognition. Desperate for somebody to say that she was who she was. Maybe that was her fear the whole time, maybe that was her horror—that she wasn’t who she thought she was. How could she even explain such a panic? And so little that she could even do with it. She stared at him.

“Beth?” he asked, his voice raw and hoarse.

Tears came to her eyes, and she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Why thank me?” he cried out. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For recognizing me,” she said, “even though it took a bit.”

“My God,” he whispered. “What happened to you?”

She just gave him that flat stare.

“I went back, you know?” he said, walking forward. “I went back to get you.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you?”

“You weren’t there.”

“Wasn’t I?” She sent her mind back in history to that horrible place, where they were part of those terrible experiments. “I don’t know where I was,” she said sadly. “I don’t remember much at all.”

“And yet you remember Stefan?” Hunter asked, a note of doubt in his voice.

Him again. Hunter. She stared at him. “Yes,” she said, “some people are unforgettable.” As Beth looked at Stefan, she saw the shock and the pain in his gaze. “It’s okay.”

He stared at her. “It’s not okay,” he whispered. “No way I would have left you, if I could have found you.”

“But you couldn’t,” she said sadly.

He stared at her. “My God,” he said, walking forward to sit down at the side of the bed. He gently picked up one of Beth’s hands to cradle in his. “How did you find me?”

“They didn’t break everything,” she whispered, with a bitter laugh. “And some of the things they tried to break had different results.”

He winced. “Okay, that’s enough for now,” he said. “I want you to rest.”

“By keeping me here, you’re in danger,” she warned.

“I’m always in danger,” he said, almost absentmindedly, as if it weren’t an issue.

She studied him. “Have you become so powerful?” He gave her a lopsided look, so apparently he had. She studied the woman at her side. “And you?”

“I am Stefan’s wife,” she said, “but I am nothing like him.”

“Don’t let her lie to you,” Stefan said affectionately. “She’s the other half of my soul.”

“The woman of the stone.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget?” she said gently. “It’s the only time you would talk about her. Plus, you were so devastated to not see her.”

He nodded slowly. “I remember that,” he said, “but I’m surprised that you do.”

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