Page 117 of Wicked Knight

Dimitri comes back to me and takes my hand. "What happened? Mackenzie? You were screaming."

"I've been having nightmares," I stutter. "They're memories, I know they're memories. I saw Tommy."

Instantly, a look of panic comes into his eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." I shake my head. “I saw him being stabbed.”

His eyes widen. “Do you remember who did it.”

“No, I couldn’t see their face. But I keep dreaming about a man. A man with a tattoo on his back of a snake with the wordsmori conatur vivere.”

The moment I say those words, Dmitri's face goes pale.

He drops my hands and stands looking like he may crumble away in the sun.

"Are you sure you saw that?" he asks.

"I'm certain. I feel like I need to speak to someone to figure out who this person is.”

Dmitri gives me a chilling look. "I know who it is, Mackenzie."

Shock grips my insides like rope. "My uncle Eric has a tattoo like that."

"What? Your uncle?"

"Yes."

Oh my God.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dmitri

Mackenzie slips her dainty hand into mine.

I cover the top of her knuckle with my other hand and give her a reassuring nod.

She looks so delicate lying there in the therapist's chaise. She looks smaller and more fragile than I've ever seen her.

Her appointment was scheduled for later in the week, but she decided to bring it forward after her dream.

No, not a dream or even a nightmare.

Those were memories. I wish they weren't, but they are.

Uncle Eric's face and his name keeps ringing through my mind and I don't know what to make of it.

The therapist, Dr. Parker, sits on the opposite side of Mackenzie.

I'm glad she asked me to go with her to this appointment. I knew that was both for comfort and because she wanted me specifically to be here. It seems fitting given that I wasn't there for her or with her all those years ago.

Dr. Parker gives her a kind smile. He seems like a nice guy.

Mackenzie told me that Eilish recommended him and that he works with people from our world who have suffered with amnesia and other cognitive impairments. I'm hoping he can help Mackenzie. At the same time, it terrifies me to think of what he may unlock.

“I want you to keep breathing nice and slow,” he says to her in a cool, calm voice. He sounds like one of those people on a meditation tape, although his voice has a rustic edge to it.

“I've haven’t done therapy in years,” Mackenzie replies. “I’m a little nervous.”