They swept along with the crowd and she took a few moments to study the street. Logan had said this “gray realm,” as he called it, held memories from her mind. Of course that didn’t make any sense to her, but she was willing to go along with it since it seemed to be true, judging from the market and Central Park.
They were on a main street of a small, picture-perfect town. The storefronts were quaint, whitewashed with blue trim. All of them. They boasted intricate wood design along the roofs, painted in crisp white trim, very much like a gingerbread house. Overhead seagulls flew, and as her eyes followed a pair of them, she smelled the scent of the ocean.
Sand, sea, and salt.
One of the signs hanging above a store caught her eye: The Sea Shell. It triggered pictures, memories of lazy summer afternoons at the beach, ice cream, and summer’s end carnivals.
“I know this place,” she whispered. My family has a summer house close by on the beach.
The crowd spilled into a large field that boasted rides and games for everyone. Kira smiled at the sight of a massive red, white, and blue Ferris wheel. It lumbered slowly, turning in a circle as the off-key song continued to play.
Booths filled to the brim with stuffed animals and candy and prizes galore greeted her. It was overwhelming. The smell, sounds, and crush of people.
A rush of gold and white appeared among the crowd—it was the dog she’d seen in the market—followed by the little boy. The young child laughed loudly as he followed the barking animal, waving his hands above his head like an airplane. He ran past, his mouth alive with buzzing noises as he snaked crazily through the crowd.
Logan swore as she dug in her heels so that she could watch him, and when the boy reached the Ferris wheel, he stopped and turned back to her. Their eyes locked and the smile disappeared from his face.
A chill swept over Kira. Was the child trying to tell her something?
“I told you to keep your head down, Dove. What part of that don’t you understand?” Logan’s anger snapped her out of it. She blinked, but when she looked again, the boy was gone.
Kira yanked her hand from his. “I don’t understand any of this.” She stepped back—chest tight, heart pounding hard and heavy inside her—and turned in a circle. She winced as she caught sight of yellow-tooth maggot-mouth man. He was following her.
Logan’s hand was on her shoulder and he spun her around. He was close. His scent was inside her. His spice, his overwhelming maleness . . . his strength. He was a man and an animal. On what planet was that even possible?
His mouth was tight and she knew he was angry. Well, too fucking bad—so was she. Kira had had enough.
“I want answers now.” She took a step backward.
He growled, “Kira—”
“No,” she interrupted. “No, no, no! I don’t want to hear ‘Kira.’ I don’t want to hear anything but the goddamn truth.”
His face darkened into a cold mask and his chest rumbled as he stared back at her.
“And I really don’t want to hear that either.”
“That?” he said stiffly.
She thumped him on the chest. “That animal sound you make or whatever the heck it is.” She snorted. “It’s not normal. None of this is normal or right or even possible. I’m not going anywhere with you until I know exactly what happened to me fifteen years ago.”
Logan swore and tried to grab her, but she stepped back and twisted out of his reach. His eyes flashed blood red and she knew his anger had just ramped up big time.
“You stupid little girl. You have no idea what the hell is going on because if you did—”
“Enlighten me, asshole.”
Logan’s face whitened. He stared at her for several moments, eyes cold and harsh.
“Before this is all over, you will pay for your insolence—understand?”
No, I don’t.
Kira leaned forward, as if she was about to share a confidence, and whispered. “Fuck you.”
She’d crossed a line . . . hell, she’d damn well jumped over it, but in that moment it felt more like she’d just reclaimed something.
Her life.