by Jenn Burke
“Wait a moment, Aidan?”
Aidan paused and turned back to Inas. “Of course.”
“How are you doing?” Inas tilted her large head. Her horns were more twisty and ornate-looking than Nassim’s. “I spoke with Nassim the other night, and he indicated that your amnesia has not abated.”
“No, it hasn’t. Sometimes I get a sense that I know something—a thread that I can pull on to find out more—but it always fades before I can tug on it.”
“Frustrating, I expect.”
Aidan sighed. “You have no idea.”
“Have you considered a therapist?”
It had been recommended by the doctors at the hospital, but actually making an appointment seemed like admitting defeat, admitting that his memories weren’t going to come back.
“I—”
“It’s frightening, I know. But….” Inas’s voice lightened. “You literally confronted a dragon in her lair. I think after that, you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Aidan chuckled. “Maybe.”
“I know you can.” She rested her head on the sand, but her eyes remained focused on Aidan, unblinking. He didn’t feel threatened—more like he was treasured enough that she didn’t want to lose sight of him. “When you go back to the house, ask David to look up my list of recommended human therapists. You want to help my brother, and you actually convinced him to take that step. Now let us help you.”
Aidan’s throat felt strangely tight. “Why?”
“For many, many reasons.” Inas’s breath made the fine sand rise in a cloud. “But suffice it to say, dragons take care of their own.”
Chapter Eight
THE psychologist’s office wasn’t very inviting, in Aidan’s opinion. The blond wood of Dr. Beausoleil’s desk, paired with the sage-green and creamy off-white accents of the rest of the furniture, probably looked all right to anyone who didn’t actually have to sit in the room and have their head shrunk.
Aidan wasn’t a fan.
After walking Aidan through a summary of the events that led him to her office, Dr. Beausoleil asked, “How are you feeling?”
“To be honest? Nervous.”
“Completely understandable. But hypnosis is safe.”
Hypnosis. Ever since Aidan saw Inas’s email with her suggestion that he should see someone who specialized in that technique, he’d been dealing with a sense of disbelief. Hypnosis was a party trick, wasn’t it? Where a smarmy guy stood up on stage, swung a gold watch back and forth, and convinced someone to bark like a dog when a certain word was said?
He had no idea where those thoughts came from.
But Inas… he trusted her. Maybe because she was prepared to help Nassim and seemed to honestly want to help Aidan too. So he’d give it a try, just like Nassim was trying out a session with his own psychologist upstairs.
“You’ll be aware the entire time, and you can emerge from the hypnotic state at any point,” Dr. Beausoleil continued. “You’re in control here, not me.”
Aidan nodded.
“Are you ready?”
Aidan wanted to say no, to say he’d changed his mind, but he wasn’t really sure why. Why was he so scared of recovering the information? Or was he scared that there would be nothing to recover? He wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Aidan?”
“Yep,” Aidan said, more sharply than he intended. “Let’s do it.”
Dr. Beausoleil encouraged him to recline on the chaise lounge section of the big, cushiony sofa. He wished Nassim were here. Then he chased that thought away. He didn’t really want Nassim in the room, present to witness whatever came out of his mouth under hypnosis. It was enough that Nassim was in the same building. He’d be waiting when Aidan was done, and he’d already promised him some high-quality coffee from a café down the street.
Aidan swallowed and closed his eyes when Dr. Beausoleil invited him to do so.
“Let’s start by focusing on your breathing, Aidan,” she said in a quiet, unrushed tone of voice. “Breathe in, slowly, through your nose. One, two, three, four. Out slowly through your mouth. One, two, three, four. In….”
Aidan followed her unhurried, easy instructions. With each repetition, his world narrowed until it was made up of Dr. Beausoleil’s voice and the act of breathing. He felt as though he were floating, but not untethered. Dr. Beausoleil’s voice kept him steady.
“Aidan, I’d like you to think about the Friday before last, when you walked out of the woods behind your workplace. Can you do that?”
The affirmation left his lips just as the memory slipped into place. He was standing in the wet grass again, staring at the low building of Tuninas Software. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the sound and the dark clouds didn’t concern him.
“Why not?”
It was a gentle sound. A harmless sound.
“I want you to move backward to the moment before you stepped onto the wet grass. And the moment before that.”
Still staring at the building, Aidan stepped backward. The clouds reversed direction and moved with him.
“Another step.”
Aidan complied… and darkness surrounded him.
“Are you deeper into the trees?”
No. It was just darkness. Darkness and the gentle rumble of thunder. Almost like a caress across his cheek. A kiss on his brow.
“Move back five more steps.”
Aidan did, or tried to, anyway. The darkness didn’t change. The thunder never stopped.
“Another five steps.”
Aidan inhaled deeply and settled more comfortably into the darkness. There were no demands there, nothing to disturb him, only welcome and acceptance. He could stay forever or a minute. He could stay a multitude of forevers.
“Can you tell me where you are?”
Home.
“Home?”
No. That wasn’t right. Not quite right. He belonged, but not. He—
Go. Go now.
“Aidan?”
He couldn’t stay in the dark. He had to be somewhere. He had to—
“It’s all right. You’re safe.”
No. It wasn’t him he was worried about. He had to—
He had to go outside.
Aidan jerked upright with a gasp. He lurched to his feet, blinking hard to reconcile the brightness of Dr. Beausoleil’s office with the comforting blackness of his thoughts. Dr. Beausoleil stood nearby, poised to assist, but Aidan held her off with a raised hand.
“I have to—”
“Steady now,” she said, her voice low. “You’re okay.”
Aidan shook his head. “No—I mean yes, but—I have to go.”
He staggered around the end of the couch, hands out to balance himself against the rich fabric, and ignored Dr. Beausoleil’s requests to stop and sit. With each step, Aidan felt better, until he was all but jogging past the receptionist and out the door of the modified brownstone to the sidewalk out front.
He wasn’t panicked. This feeling was urgent and important but, weirdly, not frightening. He paused on the sidewalk to look both ways and spotted Nassim about halfway down the block, near where he’d parked the car. He was speaking to another man. Nassim’s demeanor was calm and collected—but the other man’s was not. He leaned into Nassim’s space, his shoulders puffed up and his body tense.
“Hey!” Aidan shouted as he started toward them.
Both Nassim and the other man looked up. The stranger said one more thing and spit on the ground in front of Nassim’s feet. Nassim arched a brow but otherwise didn’t move. The stranger turned and headed in the direction of the nearby campus of the Ottawa Hospital, his stride full of anger.
“What was that about?” Aidan asked as he reached Nassim.
“Nothing important. You’re done early. I thought I’d have enough time after my session to go get you that coffee I promised.”
Aidan glanced back at the brownstone to see Dr. Beausoleil standing on the steps. He lifted a hand in a reassuring wave. She gave hi
m a slow nod and returned to her office.
Briefly Aidan explained his hypnosis session and his sudden need to be outside. “Do you know why I did that?”
“I think you should probably be asking your doctor about that,” Nassim said as he got into the car.
Aidan got in as well and darted out a hand to stop Nassim as he reached for the ignition. “Did I have… feelings like that? Before?”
“Aidan, you were in an altered state of consciousness.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So your brain probably interpreted input strangely. Maybe you caught a whisper of conversation. Or maybe it was just nerves overwhelming you.”
Aidan frowned. He’d suffered enough nerves over the past few days to recognize the difference between panic and… something else. “So it’s a coincidence I came down just as that guy was threatening you?”
“He wasn’t threatening me.”
“Doing a good impression of it, then.” Aidan stopped Nassim’s hand when he reached for the ignition again. “Come on. You can’t tell me that was a friendly chat.”
“No. Not particularly.” Nassim sighed. “He’s from the Červeny clan. Family. They’re red dragons,” he clarified at Aidan’s blank look. “They’ve claimed this area of Ottawa, and he wanted to let me know my presence was not appreciated.”
“Claimed? Do clans do that?”
“Clans that are gangs at heart, yes.” Nassim took advantage of Aidan’s shock to start the car.
“You just had a gang member threaten you? Like a criminal gang?”
“I can handle myself.”
“Why didn’t you say this location wouldn’t work when I was booking appointments?”
Nassim scowled at him and enunciated, “I can handle myself.”
“But—”
“It’s nothing to worry about. They bark like dogs, but that’s all they do. That’s all they can do. If they try anything else, my clan will crush theirs, and they know it.”
The way Nassim said that, so matter-of-factly, sent a shiver up Aidan’s neck. “Does that happen a lot? Clan crushing?”
“Not as much as it used to.”
Okay, well, that was good. But it didn’t explain why Aidan felt the need to rush outside when that other dragon was up in Nassim’s space. It didn’t make sense.
Unless it was the hypnosis messing with his head somehow. He had to admit it was a more realistic option than him suddenly being clairvoyant or… psychic, or whatever.
But still.
When they got back to Nassim’s apartment, Aidan pulled out his Aidan Bishop notebook and turned to a new page.
WEIRD THINGS I CAN’T EXPLAIN
Disappearing for four days and reappearing with no memory.
Reappearing naked with no memory.
Knowing where everything is in Nassim’s kitchen.
Faked résumé?
The urge to go outside just as a gang member dragon was threatening Nassim.
Aidan tapped his pen against the paper and considered the five items on his new list. He hoped there wouldn’t be a sixth.
AIDAN jerked awake and lay still, breathing steadily. Something had woken him, but the darkness gave no hint of what. He was in the process of reaching for his phone to check the time when he heard it again. It was a low rumble that didn’t belong in Nassim’s apartment at—he squinted at his phone—1:00 a.m.
Tempting as it was to ignore it and snuggle back into the blankets, Aidan pushed the covers back and got out of bed. He tugged on a T-shirt but didn’t bother with pajama pants. His boxers would suffice as cover.
As he stepped into the hall, the origin of the noise became clear. Unintelligible words broken up by moans were coming from Nassim’s room. Aidan’s dreams had been foggy and vaguely disturbing—apparently Nassim’s were even worse. It was only natural that therapy would stir stuff up.
Aidan hesitated in his doorway. He’d never been invited into what he thought of as Nassim’s sanctum, and he certainly had no business venturing into Nassim’s bedroom, no matter the reason. The dream, whatever it was, would pass and—
A strangled, broken-off shout had Aidan’s feet moving before he consciously decided to. He jogged up the steps and found Nassim’s bedroom easily enough—the door was ajar. The first thing Aidan saw was a wall of windows and the sparkling lights of Ottawa’s downtown as a backdrop. Then he noticed the bed. Dark wood and leather and burgundy sheets. Nassim had kicked off his covers, and the bronze skin of his chest with its dusting of dark hair was exposed to the night air. His nipples had hardened to points, and for an instant, Aidan wondered exactly what sort of dream he’d be interrupting if he entered.
Another shout, this one strangled by a sob, tugged him forward.
Tentatively he reached out a hand to cup Nassim’s biceps. He said Nassim’s name and gave a shake… then realized that shaking a dragon awake might not be the best—
Nassim jolted upward, and Aidan choked against the hand suddenly at his throat. “It’s me,” he managed.
Nassim released him instantly. “Merry gods. I’m so sorry.”
Aidan rubbed his throat, but it was more a reflex than anything else. Nassim’s grip hadn’t been too tight. “My fault. I should have called your name first.” He frowned as Nassim folded forward, his face buried in his hands. “Are you okay?”
Nassim drew in a deep breath and straightened. “Yes.”
Aidan took a chance and settled on the edge of the mattress, near the foot of the bed. He needed the distance. He’d been thinking about that moment at the Kader family estate too much over the past couple of days, that moment when Nassim had looked at him, his gaze open, welcoming, as though Aidan were exactly where he needed to be, as though… Nassim were home. His brain was getting away from him, and his body, a little late to the game, was starting to realize that hey, sex could be a thing. Sex with Nassim could totally be a thing.
Aidan shoved the wayward and inappropriate thoughts out of his head. The guy had just had a nightmare, for fuck’s sake. Now was not the time to ogle.
“You want to talk about it?” Aidan ventured.
Nassim glanced up at him and then turned his gaze to the pinpricks of light beyond the wall of glass. He was quiet for so long Aidan figured that would be his answer and dismissal all in one, but Nassim surprised him by saying softly, “I’m beginning to realize I never quite dealt with… things.”
“Riladi’s death?”
“Among other things, but mostly that, yes.”
“Okay, so….” Aidan squirmed until his lower back pressed against the footboard and crossed his legs. “Let’s talk.”
Nassim arched a brow, but Aidan didn’t miss the corner of his mouth that quirked upward at the same time. “In the middle of the night?”
“Why not?” Aidan shrugged. “I’m up, you’re up, and we’re not rushing off to work or appointments or anything else. It’s dark and quiet, and… it kind of feels like a good time to talk. Don’t you think?”
In response Nassim shuffled back until he was leaning against the headboard. He stretched out his legs, long and muscular. If Aidan scooted over an inch or two, Nassim’s toes would be touching his bare knees. He stayed where he was.
“What were you dreaming?” Aidan asked.
“Memories. Sort of.” Nassim grimaced. “I was at the battle where she died, and all the different possibilities were on a reel. What if I’d noticed sooner that she was in trouble? What if I had gone to support our injured wing member instead? What if—”
“Almost makes me glad I don’t have any memories,” Aidan said with a sad smile.
Nassim chuckled, but the sound was about as cheery as Aidan felt, knowing his boss—his friend—was reliving that horrible moment again and again in his dreams. “I could do without this one. That’s for sure.”
“So you’re going to talk to your doctor about it? What’s her name again?”
“Dr. Kira, and yes,” Nassim said with a long-suffering sigh.
> “Kira’s an odd last name.”
“She’s a gryphon, which is rare enough, to see a female gryphon living away from their home island of Soladoro, but I suppose because she’s older and acting in a sort of extension of the traditional role of priestess. At any rate, only humans use gryphons’ surname, Deiorio.”
Aidan made a note to look up more about gryphons, since this was all news to his swiss-cheese brain. “Other than causing your dreams, how was your session?”
“Unpleasant.”
“No, no, Nassim, don’t hold back. Tell me what you really feel.”
Nassim laughed again, and this time the sound was lighter. “Unpleasant… but potentially useful.”
“Spoken like a true businessman.”
“And yours?”
Aidan scrunched up his nose. “Unpleasant, but potentially useful.”
He wasn’t prepared for Nassim to nudge his knee with a foot, making his whole body sway to the side. He had to grab the footboard to prevent himself from toppling off the mattress. He protested, loudly, but he couldn’t help the smile that leaped to his lips.
“I’m curious about something,” Aidan said after he righted himself. “And if this is a topic I should stay away from, just let me know, but… what does it mean when you say you had a mate? Were you, like, dragon married?”
Nassim shook his head. “Dragon married,” he echoed. “Really?”
“I don’t know!”
“It’s not marriage in the sense humans have marriage. It’s between the two—or more—dragons involved—”
“More than two?”
“It doesn’t happen often, but it’s not unheard of.”
Huh. That was cool.
“Some shifter cultures have a belief in a single fated mate, but not dragons… or gryphons, for that matter. Dragons believe that there are multiple possible mates for each of us. We feel a rightness when we’re in the presence of someone who could be our mate, like a missing piece of a puzzle slotting into place. Sometimes that puzzle is complete with one mate. Sometimes it takes two.”