Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)(43)

Amara laughed and clapped her hands together. “Is this amusement?” she asked, her eyes dancing. “It is a fascinating emotion.”

Flushing, Memory said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you a monster.” It had been an inexcusable lapse on her part—Amara, broken though she was, was no Renault.

Amara waved away her apology. “By any objective measure, I am a monster. An ordinary twin would not have drugged, then buried her claustrophobic sister alive in a shallow grave just to see how she would react when she woke.” A shrug of her shoulders at that horrific statement. “You are also correct in your assessment. If I am a monster, you have made me a better one.”

A sob caught in Ashaya’s throat. Raising one hand to her mouth, she looked to Memory with bruised eyes identical to Amara’s . . . yet so very different. “How long will the effect last?”

Memory frowned, realizing she couldn’t use Renault as a measure. Because of how deeply he’d broken into her mind and how long he’d had access to her, the effect lasted far longer in him now than it had back at the start, when he’d first begun to use her. “Given the time we were linked,” she said slowly, working through the various factors, “and the strength of Amara’s psychic abilities, it’ll most probably last three to four hours.”

Amara sighed. “I suppose owning you is out of the question,” she said with every appearance of seriousness. “I would keep you in a room where I could drink from you at will—I’d feed and water you, of course. Cruelty for its own sake serves no purpose.”

“Jesus.” Alexei’s rough voice, his body coming close enough that her shoulder brushed against him. “It’s like you’re a drug.”

Even though he hadn’t spoken to Amara, the scientist nodded. “The effect is very similar to what I’ve observed in addicts,” she confirmed. “Now that I’ve tasted Memory, I want more. Since I’ve only had a single hit however, I should be able to break the compulsion with ease.” Those extraordinary eyes locked on Memory. “I would suggest you not allow those like me to drink from you on a long-term basis, or you might find yourself considered prey.”

Memory laughed and it held no humor. “Trust me,” she said, “I know.”

Uncrossing her legs, Amara turned to her sister again. “Since this is a temporary effect,” she said, “and you are the most important individual in my existence, I would like to spend the 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.