{Cinder}

Kyle spent maybe twenty seconds wondering if Rayne visited all their friends aside from him. It was a stupid, self-pitying, and potentially toxic thought. But it entered his head, unbidden, and he expelled it instantly. If she was avoiding him, that was her right. Building an empire proved tenuous was the more reasonable cause. Not to mention, it’s hard to visit Kyle in his dreams if he rarely slept—

Silence bumped the back of his head with her hip on her way to wash the dishes at the sink. He hopped up to his feet and followed. She scrubbed the plates while he rinsed and dried. Softly, she hummed in her rich alto. It was a familiar song, but he couldn’t quite place it. He was, however, acutely aware of the gentle smile on her enticing lips.

She was happy here with them. And he’d fight to keep her with the Shadow if only for that peaceful smile.

“I’m ready.” Irritation grated Andrew’s normally pleasant voice. Maybe because Kyle just agreed to refresh him and got distracted with dish washing.

Maybe.

Lamassau chuckled into Kyle’s glass of orange juice.

With a shit-eating grin, Story Taker crossed the pit to him. “Sorry, man. But we can’t let dishes go unwashed. Mold. Bugs. Etcetera.”

“Uh huh. Get comfy. We don’t wanna wake up to a cramp like last time.”

Silence knelt at the table rather than sitting in the other chair. She folded her arms on the surface and sat her chin there. Curiosity filled her rapturous gaze.

With a glance at the peculiar Icarean female, Kyle wet his lips before confessing, “I’m likely heading to bed after this.”

Again, Lam barked out a laugh as he moved around the kitchenette with feigned indifference to their little freakshow.

For the first time since their big meeting three weeks ago, Andrew grinned and shook his head to stifle his laughter. “Yeah. Sure. That’s fair. Let’s do this.”

Kyle reached out to Andrew’s temples and—

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Shadow memoryscape world. Down a long corridor, portals to Andrew’s memories lined the walls like paintings in a gallery. Only in Conscience’s head, the lens from which Kyle viewed it shifted in a kaleidoscope of Probabilities. Like an eye exam. With each shift, little and sometimes major details changed reality.

That’s why he needed Story Taker here. Ever since someone pushed Andrew into Cascading Light, he needed help to identify which lens to see through.

Andrew stepped into the antechamber. “It’s not bad like last time. But I was beginning to see things like I lost my glasses at a 3D movie. All blurry.”

“I’m sorry you’re going through this, man.” And Kyle meant it. They’d endured enough. He highlighted the first ten of Andrew’s memories. They were current to this Probability.

Already less shaky, Conscience shrugged. “I’m finding ways to cope. Like this.” He held up the coin he flipped a little obsessively lately. “This is how we knew how to approach your problem with Celindria. It saved us. The only person it doesn’t help with is… Well…”

Timidness looked silly in a memoryscape. Kyle highlighted another sixteen memories before nudging him. “Out with it.”

“Silence. When I try to isolate her Probabilities, the coin always lands on its side. Man, there’s… a lot with her.”

Story Taker shoved his fingers into his hair and blew the air from his cheeks. “I know. Celindria knows her.” At the other man’s double-take, Kyle staved him with both hands. “I didn’t get the details, but she referred to Silence as an old friend. She also—Shit. This is fucked up. She tried to sleep with Silence while in my body.”

Andrew’s mouth dropped open. Brows went high. Eyes wide.

Three new memories remained. “Yeah. Yeah, weird, I know. Fortunately, Silence beat the shit out of me—Her. You get it. But Celindria confirmed it was to transfer the virus to me. To lock me to her.”

The intention reader gave a conceding nod. “Better look out for that and see about finding some condoms.”

“Damn.” Shit. He’s right. Wait. Were they that obvious? Kyle opened his mouth to ask, but Andrew beat him to it.

“And your chain. Why did you give Silence—”

Kyle froze at the last memory. Blood ice cold. Breath practically frosted. Not because of the temperature. This final scene was Kyle’s worst nightmare. Stilted, he failed to warm his voice when he spoke. “Andrew…”

“I know. I… I think she’s okay though.” He sounded a tad uncertain as they both stared into the image.

Rayne on that cursed throne, with Nox beside her. Talking to her. And her to him. She looked beautiful and proud. Strong. Capable of toppling empires. And that piece of shit gazed down at her, enthralled.

Kyle couldn’t bear it. It’s not that he still felt anything romantic for her. It’s that his betrayal locked her in that box. He delivered her to Nox. And Nox took everything from her. Yet there they were. Almost cordial—

“Come on.” Andrew broke the spiral by gently pulling Kyle’s arm. “Let’s narrow down who pushed me. There’s nothing we can do here.”

“Shit. You’re right.” They walked onward to the Cascading Light memory. In light of the past week’s events and this latest development, Kyle thought of a very important question. “Hey, man. Do you have a joint on you?”