The Memory Puller (The Memory Puller Series Book 1)
The Memory Puller: Chapter 13

Dienses Square was far more subdued on Sunday night, a ghost town compared to Saturday’s rollicking scene. Wisps of steam snaked off the hot cobblestones, which were slicker and more treacherous than usual in the drizzling rain.

Cassandra wore her training attire tonight, the clean pair she’d finally picked up from the laundry hall earlier today. Much better than her muslin dress for trekking through rain-drenched streets. She gripped her hooded cloak and breathed in Tristan’s lingering scent. His dagger was tucked into her belt; she’d grown rather attached to the weapon in the twenty-four hours she’d possessed it.

Cassandra turned off the main avenue, and as she ambled down the five sloping blocks towards the familiar red awning, she was surprised to replace the Fang and Claw buzzing with activity, nearly as busy as the night before.

She approached the faded red door and peered through the iron scrollwork. The cozy tavern was full, but not packed wing to wing as it’d been yesterday. She’d be able to get through the crowd without the assistance of a towering, winged mass of muscle. Though she’d miss the feeling of his hand on her back.

“Stop thinking about him,” Cassandra grumbled as she stepped inside.

Her gaze drifted from the black and white penny-tiled floor to the wood-paneled walls then up to the stamped copper ceiling. Spherical pendant lights hung at varying heights, their glow bouncing off the metal tiles in a mystical effect. Couches and armchairs in different sizes, shapes, colors, and fabrics were scattered throughout, and tables lined the walls. The fruity, resinous scent of flavored tobacco snaked up her nostrils as swirling clouds of the sweet smoke meandered through the dim room—a homey, inviting, and altogether magical space that felt like crossing into another world.

Cassandra removed her hood and draped her long, dark braid down her torso. She scanned the room for Cora but didn’t see her, not that she expected to.

Cassandra made her way towards the bar, weaving around intermixed groups of Fae and mortals, then climbed onto a leather stool, leaned across the gleaming mahogany surface, and craned her head towards Reena.

The Beastrunner bartender was polishing pint glasses at the other end, deep in conversation with a beautiful blond male Windrider with blinding white wings. Reena had a type.

Cassandra tapped on the bar, and Reena glanced over, expressionless.

For a moment, Cassandra thought Reena might ignore her and turn back to the Windrider, who looked annoyed at the interruption until he spied Cassandra. He cocked a platinum eyebrow that radiated off his bronzed skin, his lips curved into a suggestive smile.

Cassandra instinctively tugged at her sleeve to ensure her tattoo was covered.

Reena snapped the polishing cloth at the Windrider’s chest, and he raised his palms, a mock-hurt expression gracing his handsome face. Reena laughed, then sauntered toward Cassandra.

“Don’t pay any attention to Hadriel. He’ll give that look to anything that moves,” Reena murmured, and Cassandra couldn’t decide if she should be insulted. “What can I get you, sweetie?”

“Actually, I didn’t come here to drink. I came here to talk to you. I was here the other night. With Tristan?”

“Which night? Tristan’s in here a lot. And often with pretty mortals.” Reena tapped her black fingernails against the bar.

Cassandra’s chest squeezed. She didn’t know why Reena’s response bothered her. Or she did, but didn’t want to admit it.

“Yesterday, actually. You brought me ice for the bruise on my chin.”

“Didn’t do much good, did it? Your chin looks like shit.” Cassandra rubbed her face as Reena made a slow, sweeping assessment, her eyes hooded, her fingers raking through her pin-straight auburn hair. “I remember you. You had your hair down. Hey, any friend of Tristan drinks on the house.”

Cassandra huffed a laugh. “That doesn’t sound good for business if he has as many friends as you claim.”

Reena loosed a sluggish chuckle that barely parted her lips. The Beastrunner oozed a languid sensuality that Cassandra, with all her sharp edges and racing thoughts, envied.

“If you promise to charge it to him, I’ll take a glass of champagne.” Cassandra had always wanted to try the sparkling drink featured in her wealthy supplicants’ celebratory memories.

“You got it, sugar. We’ll make him buy our most expensive bottle—he can afford it—and I’ll split it with you.” Reena placed two flutes in front of Cassandra, then plucked up a yellow-labeled green bottle. She deftly removed the wire and popped the cork, and mist swirled out as she poured the fizzy golden liquid into the two flutes. She handed one to Cassandra, then clinked it with her own.

“To males with wings,” Reena smirked.

Cassandra snorted, nearly choking on the drink. Such a dry, puckery taste. She loved the way the bubbles tickled her throat.

“You walked out on Tristan, didn’t you?” Reena asked. “He was pretty broken up afterward when he sulked back in here. Downed another bourbon, then left by himself. Didn’t even seem interested in the lovely Windrider with the rose-pink wings who was fawning all over him. You must’ve done a number on him.”

Cassandra failed to suppress her big, stupid grin. Covered it up by knocking back the rest of her champagne. Reena refilled the glass as soon as Cassandra settled it onto the bar.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Reena asked.

“I thought I saw a friend in here yesterday. An older woman with two gray pigtails? She left before I could catch up with her. Does she come here often?”

Reena took a thoughtful sip of her champagne. “I do remember seeing her, but she’d never been in before.”

“Was she spending time with anyone in particular? Did she seem hurt or anxious?”

“Odd questions.” Reena took another sip from her flute, eyeing Cassandra over the rim.

“I’m afraid she may have gotten into some trouble.”

“She kept to herself. Sat at a table in the corner nursing a single pint of cider. Looked like she was waiting for someone, but the only person I saw her with was some old, fat guy with white hair and terrible skin. And she left the table soon after he sat down. He looked pissed.”

Cassandra reeled. Cora had been meeting with someone? What for? Reena’s description called to mind the man who had run into her on his way out the door last night. Had he been chasing after Cora? “How did you notice all of this when you were so busy behind the bar?”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m a tiger bi-form; I see and hear everything. Plus, I own this place, so I make it my business to keep one eye on the drinks and one on the guests.”

“Did you happen to hear what they were talking about?”

“Something about a formula? Sounded like she’d promised to sell it to him but had changed her mind. I’m not really sure, I didn’t hear the whole conversation. That was right when you and Tristan came in and I cannot resist that Vestian when he’s in uniform. Mmm, mmm, mmm. Sucks up all the air in the room, doesn’t he?” Reena drained her champagne flute then poured herself another.

“He does, and he knows it. That’s the problem.” As if proving Reena’s point, Cassandra found herself distracted by the mere mention of Tristan, her inquest into Cora’s whereabouts momentarily forgotten.

“He’s a good male,” Reena said. “One of the best I know. Don’t let the swagger fool you.”

“Did you two ever—?” Cassandra blurted, swallowing the rest of the question.

Reena shot her a feline smile. “Only once. A very, very long time ago. When he needed comfort. We’ve been close friends ever since. But let me tell you—what’s your name?”

Cassandra, shocked to discover no jealousy at Reena’s answer, couldn’t think of a reason not to tell her. Maybe it was the champagne’s influence, but she was starting to like Reena. “It’s Cassandra. But don’t tell Tristan; he doesn’t know yet.”

Reena furrowed her eyebrows. “Okay? None of my business, Cassandra. But you should tell him your name. Because that night with him was some of the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. And I’m five hundred and fifteen years old.”

Cassandra’s face heated, and an unavoidable throb pulsed between her legs. She took a giant gulp of her champagne.

Reena sniffed, that low chuckle rumbling out of her. “Oh, you’ve got it just as bad as he does, don’t you?”

Cassandra didn’t answer. “Thank you, Reena. For the information. And for the champagne.”

“Don’t mention it, sweetie. Hope to see you here again soon? Maybe with a certain gorgeous, black-winged creature?”

“Um, sure. Maybe. I don’t know. Yeah, maybe.” Real smooth answer, Cassandra thought, distracted by Reena’s appraisal of Tristan’s bedroom prowess. She gave Reena a small wave. “Thanks. Uh, bye.”

Reena nodded her head and ambled over to Hadriel, who was bouncing in his seat like an excited puppy, giddy at his master’s return.

Cassandra hopped off the stool and strode through the Fang and Claw, her mind galloping with everything she’d learned tonight.

Especially that little tidbit about Tristan.

The words careened around her mind like a trapped sparrow.

Best sex I’ve ever had in my life.

Reena hadn’t done her any favors there, had only increased Cassandra’s desire for Tristan ten-fold.

She took a deep breath as she stepped outside and angled her face into the rain. The misting spray cooled her heated blood, allowing her to concentrate on the other, far more important pieces of information that Reena had revealed about Cora and the white-haired man.

Who was he, and what was this formula that Cora had been meeting with him about?

Her certainty that Cora was in some kind of danger was growing by the minute. It was more urgent than ever that Cassandra replace her Sister. And how did Sister Kouris factor into this equation? Was she involved in the sale of this formula? Or was it a mere coincidence that she’d disappeared as well?

The possibilities swirled through Cassandra’s mind as she raced into the streets, hoping to replace any trace of her missing friend.

Two hours later, soaked and heartbroken, Cassandra slipped through the window to her quarters, avoiding Xenia’s hopeful gaze.

“Damn,” Xenia said softly.

“It wasn’t completely fruitless.” Cassandra shucked off her drenched cloak, letting it fall to the floor with a wet smack.

She hadn’t wanted to tell Xenia that she’d spotted Cora last night, but now that she knew the woman could be in danger, Cassandra didn’t feel right keeping the information to herself.

And if anyone could identify this mysterious formula, it was Xenia. Her friend knew the stacks in that library better than the librarians themselves.

Xenia’s face grew pale as Cassandra told her about the Cora sighting, then recounted everything Reena had shared about Cora’s meeting with the white-haired man.

“Holy shit, Cass.” Xenia shook her head. “Are you sure we should be getting involved in this?”

“You know Cora would do the same for us. If we can gather enough evidence, maybe we can convince Mother Superior that our Sister, or Sisters, are in actual danger and didn’t just abandon the order. Though I’m still not sure I trust her. Her reasoning for not reporting them missing seems very flimsy. Do you think she could be involved somehow?”

“Maybe? We need more information,” Xenia said. “I’ll check the library after my shift tomorrow, see if I can figure out what that formula is.”

As Cassandra climbed into bed a few minutes later, she couldn’t help but wonder what Cora had gotten herself mixed up in. If it was perilous enough that her dear friend had never said anything…

Cassandra tried not to finish that thought as she drifted into a restless, thrashing slumber.