Last week Claire was searching for a way to make it up to Ursula for sharing her terrible memory of being stabbed by her john when she was a mortal prostitute. Secrets from mortal life are like currency in the Circle. Guarded jealously and shared only between intimates, Claire's ability to read minds and share/see memories threatens to topple the delicate balance of the Circle and everyone in it.
Do you think if I told her I killed Stephen, it would make things better?” I asked. Stephen. My drug addict boyfriend. The last one I’d had before I’d been Turned. He’d been an abusive fuck and I’d let him shoot up an extra strong dose of heroin without warning him it was more than he was used to. Then I’d watched French television while he’d died on the bathroom floor. Four years ago. Four seconds ago. My atrocity was never far from my mind.
“You didn't kill him.” Andre’s voice was flat. “And, no, it wouldn't make things better. Getting control of your powers is the only thing that might.”
“I have no idea how I shared her memory. I've never shared them before. I've seen people’s memories. They come at random. I don’t try to make them happen.” I squeezed my eyes shut and rocked back and forth on the mattress.
“I’m going to ask Gareth to help us. Have him come round here so we can practice.”
“You want to try to make them happen? Force a shared memory?” I lifted my head so I could stare at him. You heard Oliver. It’s an abomination. It’s rape. I can’t do that on purpose. I can’t, Dre!”
“If we’re trying to do it, Gareth would have full knowledge that it was going to happen. That’s not rape, that’s consensual.” Andre’s voice was gentle. He was so damned patient with me.
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