***
Maximilian Cronin stared down at the pictures and could not believe his luck.
Over the past days, as his son slept, he’d hovered by his bedside, searching Max’s memory for any hint as to where the Bordeaux girls were hiding. He already it was likely Vivienne was with Conall. In fact, he’d be surprised if she wasn’t, but with that type of daily and nightly security around her, she would be hard to take. So, he needed to know the location of the other one. If it were easier to grab her, he would start with that one, and then move to the other. Max’s memories were mostly a jumble of random thoughts and unrelated pictures, but one image seemed to reoccur each time he looked into his son’s memory. An image of a laughing girl with dark eyes and jet-black hair. Why his son was remembering that image Maximilian didn’t know, and didn’t particularly care.
At first, he dismissed it as a human girl who’d piqued his son’s interest, but as the days passed, and the image continuously returned, another thought came to him. A thought that had him sending his trackers over to the last known address of Vivienne Bordeaux, the same place where his son had been. As he suspected, the place had not been renovated, and his trackers were able to bring him what he needed. The photo albums had revealed much. The girl in his son’s mind was Drew, the third roommate in the apartment. There was no last name under the pictures, but he didn’t need one. He had a first name, and her last known address.
A surname in such a case was irrelevant, as any of his trackers would be able to find her in an information database.
The smile on his face was chilling as he stood, holding two of the pictures between his fingers. She was a pretty girl, captivating. It was no wonder Max still remembered her.
***
Are you awake?
There it was again. That voice. Max grabbed his head with both hands. He twisted on the bed, entangling the covers around his legs and waist.
From the moment he’d attained consciousness days ago, he’d been hearing this voice. He knew his name was Maximilian Cronin II, that he was a witch, a tracker, that he’d been captured on his latest mission, tortured and left for dead, that his father’s covenant had found him, taken care of him, brought him back. He knew all these things because his father had told them to him, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out who or what the voice in his head was. It usually asked a question, or made a statement, and then it was gone as if he’d imagined it. He’d begun to think that he had imagined it, until he heard it again.
Do not fear me, Max. I won’t hurt you.
Who are you? This was the first time he’d communicated with the voice. In the past, he’d thought to indulge it meant accepting in his descent into insanity. Now, there was the possibility it was something else.
I’m your savior. My blood flows inside you, keeping you alive.
Blood, Max thought, feeling a twinge of hunger deep in the pit of his stomach. As he imaged it, he almost hurled. Of the late, he’d been craving something but didn’t know what. His father had seen to it that he was well fed, and always in comfort, but there was something missing.
What are you talking about?
I will tell you everything but not like this. I’m being held prisoner, and can feel that you are in the same building as I. Come to me.
Max released his head, pushed the comforter away, and stood, pacing the large room. How did he know this man wasn’t one of his previous captors? How did he know anything with the scattered images he now had as memories? He hadn’t even remembered his own name. Max had seemed right, but he’d only known after his father had told him the name. His mind was a chasm of confusion and emptiness. The only constant was a picture of a woman he couldn’t place. She was pretty, with dark ebony skin, warm eyes, and a wide smile. She seemed…happy, an emotion he was incapable of feeling. Max felt anger, pain, failure, depression, but happiness eluded him.
How do I know you’re not luring me to my death?
Laughter met the question.
This connection works two ways, Max. As I can enter your mind, you can enter mine. It is the connection my blood affords us. I mean you no harm, and give you leave to search for anything you deem harmful.
Before Max could contemplate exactly what that meant, he was probing around. He didn’t know what he was doing, but instinct drove him, and he followed it. A vision of a tall man with dark hair and silver-blue eyes appeared in his mind’s eye. He looked much like Max did when he awoke, or when he was deep in thought and forgot to will himself to look human. Max continued his search, ultimately finding no ill will in the man’s thoughts.