"It depends," I said softly, "on whether you tell me what the hell is going on."
Chapter 12
His expression didn't alter, but his fear leapt between us, thick and strong. "I have no idea what you mean."
"I mean," I said harshly, "that I am not Hanna London. Someone has erased my memory and abandoned me here, and I want to know why."
"I don't know what you're - "
"You do," I interrupted harshly. "And if you don't answer my questions, I promise you, whatever those men intended to do to you will pale in comparison to what I'll do!"
He stared at me, his expression fierce and yet scared. "Hanna, I'm not sure why you'd think - "
"Who's holding your soul mate hostage, Evin? Who are you really?"
He didn't say anything for several seconds, then he sighed. It was a defeated, desperate sound. "How long have you known?"
"That you aren't my brother? Almost from the beginning. Initially, I couldn't have told you his name or what he looks like - "
He looked so shocked that I stopped and stared at him. "What?"
"But I am your brother."
And he said it so adamantly that I half believed him. But it wasn't true. I knew my brother. Evin wasn't him.
"Evin, my brother is my twin - " I paused, letting that word roll around my mind again. My brother, my twin, my life. God, I missed him, even if I couldn't even recall what he looked like right now. " - and that's a connection that goes beyond the physical."
"Connection or not, it doesn't alter fact." He said it with such unwavering certainty that again I found myself questioning my memories.
But they weren't off. His belief was.
Which meant maybe a little memory manipulation had been going on. It would certainly explain his unshakable belief that I was his sister.
"This is all going horribly wrong." He rubbed a hand across his eyes, then added softly, "You haven't been taking your tablets, have you? They said it would be a problem if you didn't."
"Who said?" I demanded. "And what were you putting in the coffee?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I was told to use it and I did. I figured you suspected something was up with the coffee when you went and bought your own, so I stopped."
That explained why the coffee had started tasting slightly better recently - but it still wasn't hazelnut. I hungered for that almost as much as I hungered to see Rhoan and ... someone else. Someone who looked a whole lot like Harris. Someone who might well be dead. My throat closed over at the thoughts, and I had to force my question out. "And you report to the people behind this every night?"
"Yes." He slumped down in the car seat a little. "Look, in all honesty, I can't really tell you much."
"Then tell me what you do know."
He was silent again, staring out the window, his expression miserable. I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
"My real name is Evin Jenson. I'm a border patrol guard for the Glen Helen Jenson pack."
A chill ran through me. I knew that name. Knew that location. I'd grown up there, learned to fight and hate and fear there. The home of your birth, that internal voice said. But not the home of your heart. "That's in the Northern Territory, isn't it?"
His brow furrowed. "Yeah, but not many people would know that."
"Unless that's where you were born."
He blinked. "You can't be from the Glen Helen Jenson pack, because I would have recognized you."