“I’ll remember,” I say. “I want to know why or how some people remember, and who is chosen to remember. Does the Blue Fucker remember? He knew at one point because he set up the ambush at the compound, but has he now forgotten, or is he one of the exceptions to the rule?”
“All really good questions that we need answers to,” Evander agrees as he pulls out his phone and starts typing.
“Are you texting him?” Reed asks.
Van nods, “Yeah. I figured it was probably easier and ensures that we don’t forget if the next time we speak to him, it’s about something catastrophic.”
“Which it most likely will be,” Griff points out.
“A bit bleak,” Doc comments.
“But true,” River adds.
Chapter Nineteen
Neith
“It does seem that our lives are pretty chaotic,” Coen agrees.
“And you’ve only been a part of the team again for a few days,” Ransom chuckles, making Coen’s smile widen.
“It’s like I never left,” he replies as he pulls open the door for us, and we walk in.
Neera looks up as we enter, and then does a double take, before she vaults over the counter like it's nothing and comes barreling toward me, hugging me tightly.
Weirdly, it doesn’t feel weird, it’s actually a very welcome hug.
“Neith,” she says. “What the fuckity fuck are you doing here? I thought we weren’t meeting until Sunday?” She pulls back her eyes wide. “Shit, it’s not Sunday, is it?”
I burst out laughing, “No, it’s not Sunday.”
“Thank fuck. I never want to watch you in the Choosing again. That was fucking intense. You should have seen Joey, he didn’t fucking sit still.”
“You guys watched it together?” I ask. “Wait, you remember that I was in the Choosing?”
She frowns, “Of course I do.”
“It must be because she’s close to you?” Raiden mutters.
I quickly explain to Neera what we’re muttering about, and she frowns.
“Huh, it makes sense, I guess. You wouldn’t be able to do your jobs properly if everyone remembered who you were,” she replies.
“Exactly,” River replies.
“Neera, we’re backing up over here!” someone calls from behind the counter.
“Oh, whoops,” Neera mutters and then rushes back the way that she came, although this time she chooses to go around the counter instead of over it.
We wait for a moment while she catches up with the drinks before we order ours.
“I’m really sorry, I’d love to catch up,” she starts with a frown.
I wave her off, “Don’t worry about it, we only came in to say hi and get a drink, we can catch up properly on Sunday.”
She grins, “Absolutely. I’ll text you later.”
I nod, “Definitely.”
