back to the Earth trips. Not listen to an old Reaper ramble on about the past.”
“You can't do this,” Dal interjected, his voice confident and strong as though he knew something I didn't.
“Oh, I promise you I can. Hopefully, I won't leave you damaged like the last one.” I pursed my lips, letting my eyes become unfocused as if I were busy remembering. To add a nice touch, I shuddered and shook my head.
Dal's fear tasted sweet as it hit me, and even though my monster had already filled its gut, it couldn't resist. It stuffed itself like someone gorges on delectable sweets after an enormous meal.
When I stood directly in front of Dal, he started to struggle, trying to break free of the chair. He rocked from side to side, yanked his arms back, and pushed off the floor, forcing himself to tilt away from me. Axton slipped behind him, gripping both of Dal's shoulders until Dal winced. When the chair legs slammed down on the ground, I glanced at Port.
“Ready? I'll lead,” I said and thrust my hands out, capturing Dal's temples between them.
My fingers dug into his scalp as he wiggled. Port's hands cupped Dal's chin and the back of his head. Finally, Laeru placed a hand on the top of Dal's head before giving me a wink.
Over Dal's mumbled protests and threats, Port barked, “Yes, ready.”
I slid outwards, touching Port's presence and coupling it with my own. While he wouldn't be able to enter my mind or have access to my memories, coupling us together would allow the others to view what I saw inside Dal's brain. Laeru's presence was weaker, but once I tied him onto Port and me, he, too, would be able to see.
Once we were linked, I dove into Dal's brain. At first, he put up a fight, but his defenses weren't robust. They were more irritating than anything because once I slipped past the mediocre cage he'd placed around his mind, I had to search for his memories.
Usually, they were located in the same area and in an obvious box of some sort, but with Dal, he maintained a cluster of small chests that appeared to be duplicates of one another. Mindful of the others, I restrained myself and took great care to open each lid one at a time.
The first two rows only yielded empty boxes, but once I reached the middle of the third row, we hit on the proper one. The instant I cracked the lid open, Dal's memories burst out. They reminded me of an overfilled closet being opened as they spilled out, piling up everywhere and making a mess.
His mind was far more disorganized than I'd expected, and if I could have groaned, I would have. Instead of watching them like a movie, I would have to pick them up one by one, putting it all together like a puzzle.
But one benefit from it came instantly. The very first memory we watched showed him stealing a paper from another Reaper at University. The second and third were useless things, just clips of him showering and eating. The fourth picked up another crime, this one involving him taking another Reaper's reaped essence from them and then claiming it as his own.
I wanted to delete my own brain as the next memory played, and we were forced to watch him fuck some poor unfortunate Reaper. He didn't even notice her bored expression or how her moans seemed to come at all the wrong moments. Thankfully, it was over quickly, but right as his head turned away, I caught her rolling her eyes in the peripheral edge of his view.
Then, to my surprise, when I touched the next memory, nothing played except a black screen accompanied by a buzzing noise. I jerked us away and looked at the edges, studying the textures.
By the time I had his memories pieced together in order, I'd run across multiple segments of those same erased memories. I'd also found Port a lot of crimes to charge Dal with, and a few that could be pinned on his father.
What interested me most, though, lay in the missing sections. Unlike the erased sections, the missing parts were completely cut out with only a slight bump that tipped me off. It felt as though a small scar lay atop the joining of those areas. And those areas? Well, they were somehow related to Bevan, I was almost positive.
Whoever had erased his memories, and whoever had cut