Chapter Eight

Luke’s tall frame filled the doorway like a dark shadow. His face was no longer a sickly blue but a blazing red, and his eyes held a malicious gleam. A fine layer of snow dusted his black hair and the collar of his leather jacket.

“There you are, you little freak. Have a nice sleepover with your boyfriend?”

“How did you know where I was?” I stood up, a mix of surprise and relief coursing through me.

“John showed me. As soon as we got here, I sent him on his way. It was bad enough I needed him to play tour guide. He doesn’t need to know my business.” He stepped into the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. “Why did you bring me in here with you, huh? That wasn’t the plan.”

“So, you remember what happened?”

His blue eyes glittered. “Not at first. All last night I felt like I was in some kind of goddamn nightmare. Didn’t know who I was or how the hell I got here. Then this morning, I was trying to light a cigarette, and my lighter wouldn’t work. Worked on that thing for half an hour. And suddenly it all came back to me—how you dumped me in freezing water.”

“I didn’t dump you.”

“Were you trying to kill me? Couldn’t do it when you were five, but you’re a little more powerful now, is that it? Jesus.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” I said through gritted teeth. “You didn’t stand back far enough, and the… Never mind. Do you still have the lighter with you?”

“Yeah, in my pocket, like always.” He slid his hand in his jacket pocket, as if to reassure himself.

“It acted as your memory trigger.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re lucky it didn’t fall out when I was in the water.”

I blew out a breath. “Just don’t let it out of your sight.”

“You still have my father’s trigger?”

I lifted the dog tags out from under the collar of my shirt. “Got it, but, Luke—”

“Good,” he cut in. “Because guess what? I found him.”

“What? Where is he?”

“In the café. We stopped in on the way over here. John wanted to make sure you and loverboy hadn’t shown up there this morning. And guess what, Princess? My old man is ready for the loony bin. He thinks he’s one of these fucking villagers. He doesn’t know me at all, doesn’t even know his own name.” Luke’s eyes bored into mine. “So I need you to come with me. We’ll give him his trigger, then you’re getting us the hell out of here.”

I chewed on my lip. “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.”

“And why not?”

“Because the trigger I brought for Nick hasn’t worked. I gave him the picture, and he’s been carrying it around with him…but it didn’t trigger his memory.”

The hardwood floor creaked under his boots as he crossed the room. Gripping my arm, he said, “Are you telling me he’s had that picture since yesterday, and he still thinks he’s part of this crazy world, too?”

“Yeah. And I’ve told him about his life, about the fire, about us.” I drew in a shaky breath. “He doesn’t remember any of it.”

“You better hope it’s different for my father.”

“That’s just it, Luke. I don’t think it will be. Your father and Nick have been in here for two months. Like I told you before we got here, the longer someone is in a painting, the longer it takes for them to get their memory back, even with a trigger.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his voice tinged with impatience. “I know you did. But I was thinking a couple of hours at most.”

“Well, I guess the trigger needs more time to sink in or something. But I think if we give them constant reminders about who they really are, it’ll help,” I added, having no idea if that were true. We had to try something, though. It was only a matter of time before the village was painted over.

“Jesus, Parsons. You think I want to hang around this hellhole and walk down memory lane with my old man?”

“I don’t like this any more than you do, but it’s our only option. I can’t send them home until they’re themselves again.”

“There must be another way.” Luke curled his mouth in disgust, as if the idea of talking to his father about their life in the real world was totally abhorrent, which again begged the question—if life with his dad was so horrible, why was he so desperate to have him back?

“Luke—”

“You already ran off to find your boyfriend after you dropped me in that freezing water.” He leaned in, eyes glinting, his breath hot on my face. “Now it’s time for you to fix what your mother did. You’re going to find a way to get my father’s memory back…and fast.”

“I’ll give him the trigger, but then the rest is up to you.”

“I think you’re lying.” He dug his fingers into my arm. “You have those freaky powers. You’ve got to be able to do something.”

“Let her go,” said a loud voice.

Nick stood in the doorway, his fists clenched at his sides, his face steely.

Luke stared at Nick, recognition in his ice blue eyes. “You,” he said, the single word dripping with disdain. “You screwed things up for me before. You’re not going to do it again.”

Nick took a step forward, his lips tight. “I said let her go.” His voice was cold and calm, but he flicked his eyes to mine, and I saw a spark of rage in their brown depths.

“Why do you care if I touch her?” Luke sneered. “From what I hear, you don’t even remember her.”

“And from what I hear, you’re a major pain in the ass. Now, for the last time, let her go.”

Luke dropped his hand. “Back off, man. I didn’t hurt her.”

Nick glared at him. “Just get away from her.”

A smirk crossed Luke’s face as he took a few steps back. “Well, well, look who’s the knight in shining armor.”

A muscle twitched in Nick’s cheek, and I could tell he was struggling to contain the anger that flowed beneath the surface. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who needed to keep strong emotions under wraps. His eyes searched my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, massaging my arm. “I’m telling you the truth, Luke. I don’t know of an instant way to get your father’s memory back.”

Luke looked at me intently for one long moment. “You better not be lying.”

“I swear, I’m not.”

He gave me a brusque nod. “Fine. Let’s go give Tom his memory trigger then.”

“I have to go with Luke to the café. Will you come?” I asked Nick.

“Damn right I will,” he said. “No way am I leaving you alone with him.”

My mouth fell open a little, surprised by the intensity of his expression. Luke was right. For someone who claimed not to know me, he was acting awfully protective.

And outside, he insisted on taking me in the sleigh again.

“Really? The princess is too good to walk?”

“Her ribs are bruised,” Nick said tersely. “You can shut up and get in or walk. Your choice.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Letting out a snort of disgust, Luke folded his body in beside me.

For several minutes the only sound was the runners cutting through the snow and the soft whistle of the wind in the trees. Luke’s gaze darted between Nick and me, finally coming to rest on the back of Nick’s head. “So it must be pretty sweet, having that cottage all to yourself. What’s that all about?”

“I don’t have any family here, so I live on my own.”

“At seventeen?” Luke scoffed.

Nick shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

“It’d be a big freakin’ deal in the real world, loverboy. This place is seriously screwed up.”

Nick continued to stare straight ahead, but he stiffened. “What did you just call me?”

“You know,” Luke said, laughing. “Loverboy. Isn’t it an accurate name, after spending the night with Julia?”

“Shut up, Luke,” I said, “or I’ll open a portal and send you out of here.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I? You sure you want to take that chance? If I send you home, you won’t have a clue what’s going on with your dad in here. Is that what you really want?”

The taunting light faded from Luke’s eyes. “No.”

“Then I suggest you focus less on us and more on your father. You might’ve called the shots back home, but in here”—I waved a hand to indicate our painted surroundings—“I hold the cards. Don’t forget that.”

Luke jaw tightened. “And I know a secret about your magic. Don’t forget that.”

I didn’t bother responding to that. I still wasn’t sure there was a secret.

We pulled up to the café. With a last sour look my way, Luke climbed down from the sleigh and disappeared inside. Nick dismounted and stared after him, not moving.

“Nick? What is it?”

He tore his gaze from the café and focused on me. “What an asshole. You handled him pretty well, though.”

“I’m trying not to let him get to me, but it’s not easy. He likes to twist things around. And he has a lot of issues. His big one right now is that he’s pissed my mother sent his father here.”

“He seems to know a lot about my relationship with you.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right. He likes to think he knows all sorts of stuff about… Wait a minute. Are you starting to believe what I’ve told you?”

He heaved a sigh. “Both you and Luke think I’m this Nick guy, so I don’t know what to believe.”

“You don’t remember Luke being in my house when the fire broke out?”

“No. Like I said, I don’t remember anything about a fire. But…” He put out his hand to help me out of the sleigh.

I wanted to keep holding onto him, but he let go as soon as my feet touched the ground. “What?” I prompted, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment. “Did you have a memory of something else then?”

“Not an actual memory. More like a feeling that I wanted to remember something, but I couldn’t figure out what, exactly. I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

I knew just what he meant. I’d experienced something similar when I’d been struck by the image of the teddy bear. “It does. When did that happen?”

“In the cabin. When you took my hand.”

“Oh.” A sensation of warmth flooded my heart. “I think that’s a really good sign.”

“Then when I came in and saw Luke… Well, it’s like he said. I did feel protective. Insanely protective.”

Now my heart swelled with hope. Was it possible he was starting to feel something for me? Or was his reaction just instinctive? He’d probably want to protect anyone from Luke. I shook off the last thought and smiled up at him. He smiled back, a small crooked grin that I’d look at forever if I could.

In the café, the smell of fresh bread and apple pie wafted under my nose. Half of the tables were filled with patrons. They all glanced up with welcoming smiles.

We found Luke standing next to a table near the counter. A short, dark-haired man sat there alone, shoveling pasta and garlic bread into his mouth like it was the first meal he’d eaten in a long time. His forehead puckered in concentration as he chewed.

Luke stared at him in disgust, loudly clearing his throat.

The man looked up. “Oh!” he said, swallowing. “Hello…ah, Lyle, was it?”

“Luke.”

“Right, of course. I see you brought your friends.” He nodded at Nick. “And you know Daniel? How are you doing, son?”

“Fine, sir,” Nick said. “This is Julia.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Dave.” He rose to shake my hand, meeting my eyes briefly before settling back down to his food. “Please, everyone, sit.”

Luke dropped into a chair next to his dad, crossing his arms. Nick and I took seats on the other side of the table.

Dave broke off a hunk of bread and shoved it in his mouth. “You should all order some lunch. The food here is delicious.”

“We’re not here to eat,” Luke said. “We need to talk to you about…your situation.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dave said, raising his scraggly eyebrows. “You think I’m your father. But, as I told you earlier, I don’t have a son.”

Luke shot me a look as if to say ‘I told you so’.

I stared at Dave-Tom, his cheeks stuffed with noodles, his chin smeared with tomato sauce. This was Luke’s father? I didn’t remember him from when I was five, and at the moment he was a far cry from the unstable, vengeful man Luke had made him out to be. He had a long, narrow face that was broken up by a contented smile as he ate.

“You don’t remember Luke?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

He gave Luke a cursory glance before taking a drink of water. “No, afraid not.” He chuckled in wonderment. “I think I’d remember having a son.”

I leaned forward slightly, careful not to press my ribs against the edge of the table. “What Luke says is true. You’re his father and your name is Tom. You don’t live here. You’re from a little city called St. Peter’s. My mother sent you here.”

He waved a hand at Luke. “That’s what he said. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve always lived here.”

“Think back,” I said. “You don’t have memories of growing up here, right?”

He paused with another forkful halfway to his lips. “No, I don’t. But I don’t recall anything else, either. This is home.”

“This girl here, her full name is Julia Parsons,” Luke said. “You saw her mother on the news. Charlotte Parsons.”

Tom pursed his lips. “Nope, never heard of either one of them.”

“Oh, come on. This is the girl you’ve held a grudge against for years. She’s a freak of nature. You’ve got to remember what she tried to do to me. You brought it up every time I didn’t live up to your expectations.”

He frowned. “A freak of nature? Come now, boy. Don’t insult the girl.”

“Yeah, that’s enough, Luke,” Nick said sharply.

I lifted Tom’s dog tags from around my neck and held them out to him. “What about these? Do you recognize them?”

Tom wiped his hands on a napkin before taking the tags from me. “Hmm. TR Mercer. CDN Forces. What does that mean?”

“That’s your name, old man. Thomas Reginald Mercer. And it means you were in the Canadian Armed Forces.”

“Canadian Armed Forces,” Tom murmured.

“It’s the military,” I explained. “You served in Afghanistan.”

“Afghanistan?” Tom laughed. “What’s that?”

Luke’s face went red and I jumped in before he could speak. “Will you do something for me, Tom? Ah, I mean Dave? Will you wear the tags? If you put them on and keep them on, this will start to make sense.”

“Wear them?” Tom chuckled again. “Are you kids trying to play a trick on me? Why would I wear these? They don’t belong to me.”

Luke slammed a fist on the table, giving us all a start. “You’re living in a fantasy world! If you don’t come back to reality, my friend here can’t get you home. Now put the goddamn tags on!”

A shocked silence fell over the table. I exchanged a look with Nick, then got to my feet. “Luke, can I talk to you alone?”

“Jesus, Parsons—”

“Now.”

Luke pushed his chair back from the table with a loud scrape. He muttered something as I led him to the door. Once outside, he grabbed a handful of snow, shaped it into a ball and hurled it at the front of the café. It slammed into the building, then slowly slid down the brick wall before landing in a clump on the ground.

“I know this is hard, Luke. Believe me, I know. I’m going through the same thing with Nick.”

He whirled on me, his eyes dark. “It’s not the same thing at all. Your boyfriend may not remember who he is yet, but he’s bending over backwards for you. He let you stay the night with him, he’s defending you—and he gawks at you like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. He’s easier to deal with than that crazy bastard in there.”

“I told you that it’s going to take time. Of course your dad’s going to resist what we’re telling him. He doesn’t know any better right now. But yelling and swearing at him is only going to make things worse. I’ll find a way to get him to wear the tags but you need to tone it down. Talk to him, spend time with him. Help him remember.”

He spat on the ground. “You make it sound easy.”

I laughed. “Oh, it’s not. It’s so not. But he’s your father, Luke. I thought you wanted to help him.”

He turned up the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, yeah. I want to help him. But the old man and me? We don’t really talk or spend time together, unless you count his lectures.”

That wasn’t surprising. I couldn’t imagine juvie-bound Luke sitting down for a nice father-son chat. “So, if you can’t stand him, why do you want to get him back to St. Peter’s so badly?”

“It’s none of your business, okay? I’m not in the mood to dissect my relationship with daddy dearest. And you’re one to talk. It’s not like you and your mother had the perfect relationship. Look at all the secrets she kept from you. And you wanting to be an artist?” he scoffed. “Give me a break. There’s no way she supported you, knowing about your ability.”

I shrugged. “She never forbade me from painting.” With the charm around my neck, I guessed Mom had been confident that other people would be safe from my art. A little too confident, as it turned out.

“Maybe she should have.” He shook his head. “Why do you do it, anyway? I mean, slapping paint on a wall? I can’t think of anything less boring.”

I shot him a look. “It’s not boring. It’s… I don’t know, therapeutic. I used to watch reruns of this show called The Joy of Painting. It’s what first got me interested in art. The host was this guy named Bob Ross. He could make anything with a paintbrush. He painted these really beautiful landscapes, and he had this really cool, kind of hypnotic voice. I remember him saying you can create anything you want with a little imagination. He made me want to create my own worlds.”

Luke thumped his hand against the red wall of the café. “Oh, you created a world, all right.”

I glanced around at the landscape—buildings that gleamed in the sun, a blanket of the purest white snow I’d ever seen, a sky so dazzlingly bright that it hurt my eyes. Luke wasn’t wrong. This was my world, and it would be up to me to open the doorway that led out of it, but first I needed his help.

“We better get back inside,” I said. “Just promise me you’ll give your dad reminders about who he really is?”

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I? That’s what you keep telling me, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is. We have to get their memories back before the mural is painted over.” I swallowed. “We’re running on borrowed time here.”

He kicked at a bank of snow. “Fine. If you can sweet-talk him into wearing the tags, I’ll try to help him remember.”

“All right. But, ah…maybe you should hang out at a different table or something while I talk to him.” The last thing I needed was Luke reaching the end of his fuse again before Tom had the tags on.

“I get it. You don’t want me spooking him again. Sure…whatever.”

Back in the café, Luke sat at a table near the door while I made my way back to Tom. When I got to his table, I was surprised to find that Nick was gone.

“Daniel was needed in the kitchen,” Tom explained. He glanced over at Luke, his eyes slightly narrowed.

With a slight wince, I lowered myself onto the chair. “I’m sorry about Luke. He’s… He’s just a bit anxious right now.”

“He’s obviously very troubled.”

“Yeah, well, things have been hard for both of us. That’s why—” I scanned the tabletop for the dog tags and frowned, not seeing them anywhere.

“Looking for these?” His eyes twinkling, Tom pulled down the collar of his plaid shirt. The dull silver chain of the dog tags hung around his neck. “Daniel convinced me to wear them. For some reason, I can’t say no to that boy.”

My eyes widened. “What did he say?”

“Oh, just that it would really be helping you out if I wore these. Also, it didn’t hurt that he promised me free pie as long as I kept them on.” He winked at me. “He knows my weak spot. That’s for sure.”

“Wow.” I sat back, floored. Nick still didn’t know who he was. He didn’t remember me or what he and I had meant to each other, but underneath it all, he was the same Nick—selfless and kind, willing to help without question. A wave of gratitude swept over me. “That’s great. Thank you.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Ah, no big deal. I’m still sure it’s all a big joke, wearing someone else’s tags, but it won’t kill me.”

“No, it won’t. Listen… I have another favor to ask you.”

“Another?” He arched an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“Like you said, Luke is troubled. He’s new here and honestly—and you didn’t hear this from me—he’s scared, being in a strange place.” I hesitated, hoping Tom would be as helpful as Nick. “I was wondering if you could spend the afternoon with him.”

“Hmm.” Tom picked up the coffee cup sitting at his elbow and took a drink. “You’re new here too, aren’t you? Are you scared?”

I gave him a tight smile. “I was…at first. But I had Daniel to show me around yesterday. And it really helped. If you could do the same for Luke, I would really appreciate it.”

“Well, I like to help out when I can. That’s what folks do around here.” Tom leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “But your friend Luke seems a bit unstable.”

Funny, that was exactly how Luke had described his father not that long ago. “Right,” I agreed. “And if you let him tag along with you this afternoon, I think it’ll calm him down.”

Tom glanced at me before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he set the mug down with a chuckle. “You seem like a nice girl, but you kids are way off course if you think I’m this boy’s father. Even so, Luke can come with me to the pub. I have work to do there this afternoon. And it won’t be long before I prove to him that I’m not the man he’s looking for.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.” I signaled to Luke, who came over with a scowl darkening his face. “Dave says you can hang out at the pub while he does some work. Isn’t that great?”

“Wonderful.”

I narrowed my eyes and muttered, “Be nice.”

Luke pasted a smile on his face and said, “Thanks, Dave.” His gaze fell on the dog tags. “Would you excuse us for a second?”

“Certainly.”

Taking me by the elbow, Luke pulled me a few feet away from the table. “How did you get him to wear them so fast?”

“I didn’t. When I got back to the table, he was already wearing them.”

“What?”

“Nick convinced him.” I felt a surge of pride when I said it.

“Huh. Looks like loverboy might come in handy. And there he is now.” Luke jerked his chin in the direction of the kitchen, where Nick had just stepped out. “What do you have planned for him while I’m working on my father?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet.” He was on the verge of remembering something. I had to believe that. As long as we were together, as long as I had more chances to remind him who he was, I didn’t care what we did.

He headed towards me, carrying a large brown paper bag, irritation etched on his face. Stacey followed close at his heels. “Daniel!” Her voice was shrill, her mouth turned down in a pout. “We haven’t finished talking.”

Nick turned and drew Stacey back towards the kitchen door. He kept his voice low as he spoke to her, so I didn’t hear what he said, but her reply was loud and clear.

“How can you do this to me? After everything I’ve done for you, you run off with some strange girl? How can you betray me like this?”

He shook his head and took a step away from her. She caught his arm.

“She’s filling your mind with lies. Can’t you see that?”

Now his voice rose. His words were steady and even, but they had a distinctive edge. “I have to see this through. If you care about me at all, you’ll let me do that.”

“I do care.” Stacey twined her fingers in his hair and locked her eyes on his. Disgust curled in my belly. “That’s why I’m afraid for you, afraid that she’s brainwashing you. That she’s trying to take you away from me.”

Nick reached up and gently disengaged her hand. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Leaving Stacey to gape after him, he hurried over to me. “Sorry about that.” He gestured to the bag. “I have a couple of deliveries to make. You can come along if you want—or if you’re too sore, I can—”

“I’ll come,” I interrupted. There was no way I was letting him out of my sight. “Luke is going to stay with Dave.”

“Great. Let’s go.” He weaved through the tables, obviously in a hurry to get out of the café. When he held the door open for me, I couldn’t help glancing back before I walked out.

Stacey watched me from the kitchen doorway, her green eyes hard and cold. A shiver ran through me even before I crossed the threshold and stepped out into the wintry air.

The body type and facial features were different, but the contemptuous look on her face reminded me of Trisha.