Over the line a string of oaths erupted, and Tag proved no one could swear

like a marine. “Son of mangy bitch,” he wound down before taking a deep breath. “The cabin’s an hour and half outside of Phoenix?” He didn’t wait for my

confirmation. “I’ll meet you up there. Stay with Kayden.”

“Tag.” I put all signs of my waning patience into his name as my fingers tightened around the phone. It took an amazing amount of willpower not to share

my own colorful vocabulary. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right. Now.”

The last two words squeezed around clenched teeth.

“It’s about Flash.” His unexpected answer stabbed deep, drawing blood

under my skin. “His killer is out.” Brutal memories boiled forth, almost making

me miss his, “Stay with Kayden, Cyn.”

My world spun as the drone of a dial tone filled my ear. I concentrated on replacing the phone in the cradle. My legs did a great impression of spaghetti noodles and folded under me, until I was sitting on the cool tile drowning in memories.

For six months, I ran as hard, as fast, and as far as I could, but in a matter of

minutes I was right back where I started, trapped in a never-ending nightmare. It

was enough to make me wonder which fickle fate decided to dump everything on me at once. If I ever got my hands on her, I’d happily beat her to a pulp.

Damn, damn, and triple damn!

The past surged and broke through my flimsy barriers. Ghostly screams and

the stench of burned flesh rose on a choking wave of horror. I dug my fingers deep into my thigh muscles in a desperate attempt to stave it off. It didn’t work.

Greedy memories sucked me under.

My kitchen disappeared, replaced by a fetid alley behind a dive in Wherethe-fuckistan. Sprawled on the ground, my head spun with dizzying sickness and

my leg screamed with agony, yet all I could do was watch and listen. Watch the

spreading pool of blood and brains seep from Ortega, his sightless eyes staring

past me. Listen to the snap and crackle of a raging fire hissing through the night,

while the foul smell of burnt flesh wrapped around me. Behind me, someone screamed, his wail high-pitched and full of hopeless agony.

I knew that broken voice.

Even as excruciating pain beat inside my skull, I turned my head. A figure took shape in the midst of the hellish scene and recognition hit. Searing loss, rage, and fear clawed for a way out. My mouth opened and the stench coiled down my throat, blocking the air in my chest. No, no, no!

Hands cradled my face, the touch shocking enough to snap through my

paralysis, and bring the present into the past. Desperate to escape, I struck out,

my hand connecting with flesh. “Don’t touch me!”

Pain radiated down my leg and in my head. Harsh breathing filled the air. It

took a few seconds to realize the sound was coming from me, and even a few more before the low soothing voice penetrated the layers of the past.

“Come on back, Cyn. You’re safe.”

I concentrated on the voice, drawing in sharp drafts of air until I relearned to

breathe. The strangely hypnotic voice thinned the nightmare, allowing the

present seep in. My kitchen re-formed. The press of wooden cabinets against my

spine, the cool tile under my ass, the sound of Kayden’s soft reassurances that I

was safe. I wanted to laugh. I hadn’t been safe in a very long time.

Feeling shaky and aching in unseen parts, I drew my knees up and wrapped

my arms around them. I dropped my forehead to my knees, holding tight to the comfort of Kayden’s voice, but refusing the shelter of his touch. When I could stop imitating a fish on land, I managed one word. “Sorry.”

Kayden was silent for a moment, then, “No apology needed.”

I wish I felt the same. I kept my eyes closed and my head down as shame and

humiliation flooded me. Logically, I knew there was no reason for it, but logic

didn’t exist in my nightmares. Tag’s comment about Flash had flipped a trigger I

thought was disabled.

Apparently not.

The air next to me shifted as Kayden settled at my side. “We need to talk about it.”

His statement earned a bitter, choked laugh from me. “No, we really don’t.”

“Time to come back in, Cyn.” His voice was unusually gentle. “You can’t

hide anymore.”

Opening my eyes, I turned my head, and kept my cheek on my knees.

“Why?” Bitterness left a sour taste behind, but it didn’t stop my sarcastic, “Do

you need another sacrificial goat?”