“It was an accident,” he complained, rubbing his bicep.
“You have to deliberately will yourself to change, so I don’t see how that could happen.”
“I was changin’ into me fox form,” he explained. “I guess it’s been on me mind a lot, the whole wolf thing, and it just… It overtook me. Before I knew what was happenin’…”
I eyed him warily. “You had control over it this time.”
Boone nodded. “I wasn’t lost in the animal like I was then. It felt like…” He drew in a deep breath. “It felt like me other shapes. Familiar.”
I worried my bottom lip, the garbage bag forgotten beside the door. Maybe the wolf form was his original familiar, unlike the fox shape he took after he’d lost his memory. He’d said it was the first form he remembered taking, so it stood to reason it would be his first go to.
“I think who I was is starting to leech into who I am now,” he said. “Whatever happened the night I first changed, it must’ve triggered somethin’. A leak or a crack… Somethin’s different, Skye. I think you could get through.”
The silver… I sighed, knowing he could be right. Something was leeching into his shapeshifter forms, changing them to the point his coat had changed colors. The russet fox was silver, and his gyrfalcon was pure white with a silver belly. I was entirely sure his black stallion would be silver, too, though he never used that shape.
“Have you been getting headaches?” I asked.
He shook his head. “They’re not as bad.”
Was the spell eroding? Something strange was going on, and we couldn’t explain it. His memories might be forcing their way out, but there was only one way to—
A blood-curdling scream tore through the kitchen, and I turned to find Mairead standing in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the tea towel over Boone’s junk.
“We’re going out,” I said, standing in front of the naked Irishman. “Don’t wait up.”
“Why is he naked? What’s going on?”
“There are several words for this,” I said to Boone, “and they all result in being arrested.”
“Or having me ass whipped with a lamp cord,” he said wryly.
“Kinky,” I murmured.
Boone began backing away slowly, waving at Mairead with his free hand. “See you later.”
“You better wash that tea towel before you bring it back!” the Goth girl shouted after us.
Closing the door behind us, I smirked at Boone. “Don’t forget the fabric softener. My dishes prefer to be caressed with soft, sweet-smelling material.”
After a quick stop off to collect Boone’s clothes from the bush he’d hidden them under, we made our way down the path toward the ancient hawthorn. By the time we reached the clearing, I’d managed to calm down. Boone had terrible timing, but I doubted he’d tried to scare me. Who knew I would shake off the laziness and actually take out the rubbish? No one could predict miracles.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, the familiar closeness of the tree surrounding me like a fluffy blanket. Too bad it wasn’t a warm blanket. I was freezing my you-know-whats off.
“There’s never goin’ to be a good time,” Boone replied.
“Right.” I cracked my knuckles and shook out my arms. “Let’s split this thing wide open.”
“Be careful,” Boone said, his brow creasing. “Last time didn’t end very well.”
“I’ll try not to blow myself across the clearing. Don’t worry.”
“Skye, do you know what you’re doin’?”
“Not really,” I replied, unfazed. “My magic is instinctual, which means I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Which really means you’re stabbin’ in the dark.”
“Am not!” I hesitated, then sighed, my shoulders sagging. “Okay. I am, but curing amnesia wasn’t in the handbook. Give me a break.”
Ignoring Boone’s concerned look, I took a deep breath. How was I supposed to do this? Reaching out, I put both my hands on his head.
“Is this part of it?” he asked.
“Shh!”
I rolled my shoulders back a few times and entered my mind. Imagining my fingers digging into Boone’s brain, I felt my magic work its way from my body into his. At first, it felt strange, like a million pins and needles in my fingertips, but then I could feel him. It was a strange almost out-of-body sensation. I moved from myself into him. Not in the psychical sense. It was a spiritual thing.
Sensing a hard shell over parts of his being—the bits and pieces someone desperately wanted him to forget—I assumed this was what Aileen had seen when she’d tried to break the amnesia spell. At least, a version of it.
A metallic silver glow was pulsating from the middle of the shell, the glow reaching an intensity it was almost too hard to look at. This must be the fissure Boone had sensed, and the one that had allowed him to shift into the wolf in the first place. There was a very silver theme going on, but it was a glaring indicator that this was the place to break into. Go for the weak spot, and the entire spell would crumble. At least, that was how the theory went.
Focusing, I nudged a thread of golden light into the silver, coaxing it to work its way through the shell. If this was Boone’s essence, then it was trying to break free, right? Why else would there be a crack in the spell? No one could contain someone’s true nature for long, especially if it were as wild as Boone’s nature.
C’mon, I thought. Come out, and show me who you are. Remember what they took from you. You want to come out, don’t you?
The silver light flared, and before I could do anything about it, my connection with Boone was severed, and I was flying backward through the air like a human cannonball.
My head cracked against a fallen tree, and all the air left my lungs. I wheezed, trying to catch my breath. Rolling onto my side, I felt like throwing up as blood
