Chapter 15: The Seer

“What’s wrong?” Trojan asks with a strange look, but he doesn’t approach me.

I’m backed up against the cabinet like a lunatic, breathing hard and sweating like I was just in a fire. I can’t even feel the stove from here, and the aircon is turned on.

“I’m fine.” My voice is trembling.

Trojan runs a hand through his hair. “You’re sweating at 10 degrees.”

“I was just startled, that’s all,” I whisper, moving from the cabinet.

What the fuck was that? Was this fire real or not? That flashback felt too real to be fake, or a dream, or fucking stress-induced. Moon Goddess, what’s happening to me? What happened to me? And that creepy lady said that no one would remember, not even me.

But why do I remember?

Trojan shoves a glass of water in my direction. “Calm down. You’re also shaking like a leaf.”

I take it and gulp it down in a single go. I put the glass on the counter and use the back of my hand to wipe my forehead.

“Should I call Terry to check you out?” Trojan asks, leaning against the counter with his hip.

“No,” I quickly mutter.

I’ve never liked Terry. He’s the psychologist and counsellor at the academy. He’s also one of Marcus’s adult bitches. I don’t want him anywhere near me doing anything to me.

“Okay.” Trojan raises his hands in defeat. “Then sit down and eat.” He takes out a plate and puts it in front of me before putting some food in it.

I sit down and force myself to eat while Trojan makes his own plate. I can’t stop thinking that maybe someone did mess with my memory, and everyone else’s. Or maybe someone is just messing with mine to make me look crazy and get me committed. I wouldn’t put it past Marcus.

I take another bite and glance at Trojan. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

He looks up from his plate. “Pack business.”

“Right.” I swallow and pick at the food with my fork. “I want to visit Messiah.”

His expression changes slightly. “Why?”

I look at him. “I haven't seen her since—” I stop because I don't know when I last saw her and I don’t want to sound insane. “I just miss her.”

Trojan watches me for a moment before nodding. “That's fine. Just take security with you.”

“I'll take the twins with me.”

I look for his reaction. In truth, I don’t want to take them with me when there’s a vampire threat we still haven’t figured out. I just want to fish for information and see how close Messiah and I still are. I don’t know what’s happened since having the twins.

And she’s one of the few people who’ve never looked down on me. I need to know whether she’s still that person. Does she know my kids? Does she spend time with them? Us?

“And the nurse?” Trojan asks.

I give him an obvious look. “Obviously.”

A small smile pulls at his mouth. “I'm just making sure.”

I roll my eyes and continue eating. “I don't want to stay cooped up in this house all day.”

“I don't blame you.” He takes a drink before adding, “Call me when you get there and when you leave.”

I leave the house with the twins, the wet nurse, and two of Trojan's security men. The drive to Messiah's place is quiet, giving me too much time to think. If we’re still on good terms, maybe she’ll be able to tell me what’s going on with me.

The car eventually pulls up outside Messiah's house. I stare at the familiar place through the window for a few seconds before opening the door. The wet nurse gets out first with one of the twins while I take the other. The security guard takes out the stroller and we place the babies in.

Messiah emerges with a big smile before I can walk up to her porch. “Well, well, you look mighty fine for someone who’s supposedly going crazy.”

I stop walking. “Are we still close?”

She frowns and walks down the steps. “I don’t know if we’ve ever been, but we’re good.”

I chuckle, because she’s exactly as I remember her. Refusing to admit that we’re somewhat friends.

She goes to the twins’ double stroller and scoops up the little ball of pink fur. “Oh, she’s still the cutest little girl.” She looks at me, nods toward the house and leads us in.

“Sit,” she says as she sits at the table.

There’s already a kettle of simmering tea on the table and two cups. She’s been expecting me. She’s gotten better at seeing. She hands the baby off to the nurse and waits for her to disappear to the living room. Then she turns back to me.

“You’ve gotten better in the past year,” I whisper. “Before, you couldn’t even see me walking through your door until you actually saw me.”

“Except it hasn’t been a year for you.” She raises her brow.

My heart starts hammering harder inside my chest. “You know?”

“Child.” She leans in, pointing at her eyes. “I see with more than these. Plus you’re talking as if you haven’t seen me in decades. It’s only been two weeks, and the nuts twenty-year-old version of you knew that I can see better now.”