Demand (Careless Whispers #2)(52)

“What is Evil Eye?”

“The wrath unleashed from around the world on anyone who hurts a Hawk, or their family and extended family. Your wearing that bracelet tonight told the world that you are in that protected circle now. Even Niccolo fears Evil Eye.”

“And Kayden developed the program?”

“He developed it and heads it.”

“He didn’t tell me this. Why are you?”

“Because I’ve seen how stubborn you are. If you think the answer to protecting him is leaving, you will go at your own risk. And that answer is not the correct one. Kayden is well insulated, virtually without weakness.”

“Except you just told me that I am the one unknown he’s allowed into his world, and yours. I’m a weakness.”

“Holy f*ck, that is not what I just said.”

“It’s a fact.”

“It is not a fact, Ella.” His phone starts to ring. “We’re not done with this conversation.” He answers his call and has an exchange in Italian, and by the time it’s over we’re at the castle gate, watching it open. “That was Kayden,” he says. “He and Sasha are out of the palace and headed here now.” Lights flicker behind us, and I twist around to spy not one but two motorcycles. “Matteo and Carlo,” Adriel supplies before I can ask.

I face forward as Adriel pulls inside the castle gates, plotting my escape from the cavalry. While appreciated, they will ask questions that I don’t want to answer right now. My hand goes to the door handle beside me, and once the Rolls-Royce halts in front of the porch, I pull it, exiting to the driveway. By the time the two motorcycles park behind us, I’m already up the stairs with my key in my hand. I pause at the security panel, punch in a code, and unlock the door, entering the foyer.

There I shut the door, lifting the skirt of Sasha’s dress to run to the security panel for our tower. Once I’ve keyed in the code I wait for the door to lift and scoot under it the instant I can fit. I immediately punch the button to seal myself inside, lifting the skirt of my gown again to walk to the stairs.

“Ella.”

At the sound of Adriel’s voice, I whirl around to find he has snuck under the door. “What are you doing, Adriel?”

He walks toward me, stopping toe-to-toe. “It’s ‘come to Jesus’ time, Ella. He claimed you tonight, which, considering he’s been alone with his demons a very long time, got a lot of attention. And if his woman can’t trust him to protect her, why will anyone else trust him to protect them?”

“I do trust him. I just don’t trust me. I don’t know me.”

“Fear is a demon, and you no longer have the luxury of it winning. You’re strong enough not to let it. Is it better if you get your memory back? Hell yes. But if you don’t, we’ll deal with it. Because that’s what we do, and because that’s what he does. Deal with it.

“Now. I’m leaving before he gets here. Don’t make me have to come kick your ass.” He turns and walks to the door and punches the button, leaving me momentarily shell-shocked.

“You’re an *,” I say, emotions balling in my chest and belly.

He faces me. “And your point is?”

“Thank you.”

His lips curve and he gives me a quick nod before ducking under the door. I punch the button to seal it behind him, and, lifting my dress, I hurry up the stairs, his words heavy on my mind.

He’s right. Fear can’t be the winner here, and it is, or I wouldn’t still be suppressing things. I have to own my past; it can’t own me. If I don’t fear it, I can remember it. If I don’t hide from the pain I have to relive, I can remember it. I’m going to go to our room, grab my journal, my ballet slippers, and whatever else feels right, and instead of hoping I remember, I will.

But when I hit the top step, the dimly lit tower stops me in my tracks, an icy sensation overcoming me. Like I’m being watched. Like I’m not alone. And while I know it’s the spooky way this hallway always affects me, without a conscious decision to do so, my purse, or rather Sasha’s purse I’ve claimed as mine, is unzipped, my hand covering Annie. I scan all visible areas. The hall at my right toward the spare bedroom. The also dimly lit living area directly across from me, and finally toward our room. Everything appears fine.

Of course it’s fine. We have security, and damn it, I’m jumpy again because of Niccolo. I just lectured myself about fear, and he’s still on my mind. And that man. He is at the root of this.

No, I amend. I am the problem because I’m letting him win again. Every day I let him stay nameless, he wins. I look down at Annie and have the gut-wrenching memory of my mother in her hospital bed. Oh the irony of me insisting that everything is better remembered, when I want to keep remembering her smile, but not her death.

I stick Annie back in the purse and head toward the bedroom, where apparently I left in such a hurry that the door is cracked open, the heat from the fireplace spreading into the hallway. Entering the room, I have an urge to look down the hall I just traveled, and refuse to give in. Then I change my mind. Isn’t a refusal to look behind me my problem? I face the hallway, stare down the emptiness, and sigh in relief. I faced one fear, and I will face them all.

Shutting the bedroom door, I seal in the warmth and kick off Sasha’s painful high heels. I lean against the door, leaving the lights off, the glow of the fireplace illuminating the room. Unbidden, a tingle of unease slides through me. Did I turn the lights out when I left? No. I don’t think so. I didn’t. My brow furrows. But maybe they weren’t on in the first place? Or Marabella was up here? Or . . . am I having blackouts I don’t even remember? It’s a scary thought, and it’s simply unacceptable if I am. I have to remember everything. Now. It’s time, but the silence in my head and the room are damning.