Way of the Shadows (Shadow Agents 8)

Since their bags were at the bottom of an icy lake, she appreciated the arrangement.

“Get some sleep, get some food, and then you’ll be able to work up a profile.”

He sure sounded confident. But it wasn’t as if she just waved a wand and magically figured out a killer. “I’ll need to head back to Lawrence’s place. I want to search every inch of that house.”

He flashed her a hard smile. “Already on the to-do list. Mercer wants us to find evidence proving Lawrence is our guy—and if the senator was working with anyone else in the attack against the EOD, we need to find out just who that person is.”

Right. Because the case wasn’t closed, not even with the death of their chief suspect.

“There are supposed to be two bedrooms upstairs,” Thomas added as he glanced up at the winding staircase. “Pick which one you want, and I’ll take the other.”

I’ll take the one with you.

Wait, no. She had not nearly said that. She must be more exhausted than she’d realized. Noelle turned on her heel and hurried toward the stairs.

“Do you need to talk?”

Her hand curled around the bannister. His voice had been so rough. “About what?”

“About the nightmares you have.”

How could she talk about what she didn’t remember?

“You begged someone not to hurt you. Pleaded for them to let you go.” The hardwood floor creaked beneath his footsteps. “And you promised not to tell...”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t remember any of that.” Her heart raced in her chest.

“You do when you let down your guard. When you sleep, that veil in your mind falls away.”

She shook her head. “I... No, you’re wrong.”

He was just a few feet away. “Have you ever thought that maybe you just don’t want to remember?”

The dead man on the floor...the blood on her hands...

“I want to remember.” Those forty-eight hours had shattered her life. Her mother had wanted to push them away while Noelle had desperately wanted to grab that time back.

His gaze held hers. “There are plenty of moments from my life that I wish I could forget.”

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She thought of the scars on his body. His captivity. “What if you had the scars, but no memory of how you’d gotten them?” She didn’t have scars on her body. Not on the outside, anyway. But those two nights had left deep marks inside of her. “Every time you looked at them, wouldn’t you wonder?”

He took another gliding step toward her. She tilted back her head to keep meeting his gaze.

“When I look at the scars I have now,” Thomas said, “I remember how much my captors enjoyed cutting into me. They wanted me to break.” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t. No matter what they did to me, I didn’t break.”

No, the Dragon hadn’t. But had she? In those lost hours, what had Noelle done?

“Then I remember what it was like to kill them.” His hands fisted. “You know what I am and what I’ve done. But when I close my eyes, I don’t like seeing the bodies in my mind.”

You know what I am. She reached out to him and pressed her hand to his clenched fist. “You’re a soldier. You survived. You fought. That’s what you did.”

His gaze fell to her hand. Her skin was so pale while his was a dark tan.

“You need to be careful,” Thomas warned her. His stare was still focused on her hand.

“Careful?”