time with you.”
Ashaya, face stark and terribly sad, looked once again to Memory. “Once she’s back to her normal state, will she be able to use the emotional knowledge she gains while with me in her current state?”
It was a smart question, and one for which Memory had a conclusive answer. “No. The knowledge gained becomes . . . colorless after the effect of the transfer fades. Amara will remember your interactions, but she’ll have the same emotional understanding of those interactions as she would’ve had prior to the transfer.”
Memory shaped her words with care, to offer what comfort she could. “To Amara, it will no longer make sense why she chose to spend this time with you rather than, for example, returning to her lab to run tests on herself.” That was why Renault had kept Memory all these years; he’d needed the constant renewal to continue his meteoric rise in the business world even as he gained infinitely more pleasure from his murders.
As the fall of Silence had proven, the majority of Psy had never been emotionless. Their emotional core had always existed under the frigid weight of the Silence Protocol. It had made them vulnerable to a man with an instinctive and acute understanding of subconscious biases and vulnerabilities.
Renault hadn’t possessed that understanding until Memory.
“So,” Amara said to her twin, a genuine softness to her that Memory could feel, “it appears that today, we can be sisters, without worry that when the monster returns in all of her terrible glory, it will give her an advantage.”
Curling her fingers over her twin’s, Ashaya rose to her feet.
Amara came with her.
“Do you need anything more?” Ashaya asked, her voice husky.
Memory’s heart ached for this woman who was forever tied to a mirror that was cracked. “If Amara could keep a detailed record of her responses and emotional reactions in the hours to follow, it’ll give me further data as I explore my abilities.” She made her words logical and unemotional on purpose, because in that contact with Amara, she’d gained a better understanding of how the other woman functioned.
Amara nodded. “I am intrigued myself. I will make thorough notes and send them to you once the effect fades.” She held out her free hand as if to shake Memory’s, smiled slyly when Memory drew back. “I do like this emotion of amusement.”
As the two women went to leave the cabin, Memory felt a gentle knock on her mind. A polite request for telepathic contact. Wary, but aware from the “taste” of the contact that this wasn’t Amara, she responded with a Yes?
I know my sister hasn’t somehow been healed, said a voice drenched in a tangle of feelings, and I accept that underneath it all, she remains as she’s always been. But to speak to my twin and have her truly understand—even a little bit—the things that matter to me, it’s a gift for which I’ll never be able to repay you. Thank you.
With that, the twins were gone.
Memory wanted to cry—Ashaya’s mental presence was as warm and as giving as her sister’s was cold and inhuman. Ashaya loved Amara with all of her being while understanding that Amara was incapable of loving her back.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she rubbed her hands down the front of her thighs. And somehow, she found herself leaning against Alexei’s body. He didn’t push her away, didn’t tell her that she didn’t have the right to those skin privileges. He also still had his hand on her nape, but his silence cut at her. Did he think her a monster now?
Then he dropped an energy bar in her lap and growled, “Eat!”
Releasing a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding, Memory picked up the bar that was meant to be infused with all types of minerals and vitamins. Grouchy growly wolf, she thought as she took a bite, her heart all tight and happy.
It was Sascha who spoke next. Dropping her face into her hands, the cardinal exhaled with force. When she looked up, her eyes were obsidian. “I refuse to believe that your ability to reach psychopathic individuals is only so that those individuals can become better psychopaths.” A mutinous set to her jaw. “You are a gift, Memory. A remarkable E.”
When Sascha held out a hand, Memory didn’t hesitate to take it. Not only had the empath only ever been kind, Memory had the feeling Sascha didn’t need physical contact to divine emotions; her power was a storm. How