Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian 9)

"Why did we come to Dunedan?" I said, as he reversed the car and pointed it in the direction of the buildings.

He glanced at me. "Because you wanted to get away from everything. Friends, family, everything."

Well, I'd obviously succeeded, because I couldn't remember anything. And how much more "away" could you get? "But why here?"

He shrugged. "You took a pin and poked it in a map. This was the nearest town to that pin, and here we are."

"Why did you come with me?"

He smiled. "Because, sister, we do everything together. Besides, Mom would have had a fit if I'd let you come out alone in your condition."

Mom. It was a word that raised a surprising amount of emotion - and not all of it was good. Yet I couldn't even picture her face. "What do you mean, my condition?"

He hesitated. "You survived your soul mate's death, but you were being treated for severe depression. Which was why I was looking for you so frantically. I thought you might have gone off your tablets and tried to kill yourself again."

I frowned. His words had the ring of truth, and yet, there were lies there, too. Or was I merely seeing problems where there were none? I rubbed my forehead wearily, and wished the aching would stop. I'm sure it would all make so much more sense if it just didn't hurt so much.

"Meaning I've already tried to kill myself?"

He grimaced. "That wound on your shoulder is from a gunshot. You only missed because I managed to grab the gun in time."

Liar, liar, pants on fire ...

And yet, the wound was a gunshot wound. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe it was my internal voice that was lying.

"How did I get hold of a gun?"

He snorted. "We're licensed security officers, so guns aren't a problem."

I didn't feel like a security officer. I felt like I was something more. Not a cop, but something along those lines. Someone who dealt with life and death on a daily basis.

Which I guess a security officer could do, if we were in the business of guarding people rather than possessions.

I looked out the window, watching the emptiness go by, feeling its echo deep inside. "I can't remember any of this."

His gaze swept me again - something I felt rather than saw. "Well, you've obviously received several nasty blows to the head, so that's probably why. Give it time."

Time. For some reason, that was something that seemed in very short supply.

A week, that voice had said.

What would happen after that?

I didn't know, and I didn't intend to hang around long enough to find out. Whatever this was, whatever was going on, I needed to sort it out well before then.

I shifted my focus to the approaching town. It didn't look huge, but it seemed quite pretty. The main street was about half a mile long, with grand old buildings clustered on either side of the road and the blue of the moonlit ocean visible down at the far end. Cars were angle-parked along the street, and people strolled about casually -

some in beach gear, some not. Trees and wide verandas provided shade from the elements, as did the white umbrellas that sat above the tables in the outside restaurant areas. Hanging pots filled with flowers and creeping vines dangled from the ornate light posts that lined the street, and the nongardener in me wondered how the hell they managed to keep them alive in the heat.

"Where are we staying?"

"Bayview Villas. We have a two-bedroom unit right on the beach."

"Sounds nice."

"It is." He swung into a side street and the buildings gave way to old but pretty houses. We passed several more streets then swung right. The sea suddenly seemed a whole lot closer, the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline sharper.

He swung left, into a driveway, and stopped. The building was white concrete, but had the same wide verandas that the older buildings did. It also had a big blue-and-white sign out the front that said POLICE.