Frostbitten Past

X X I V

DAMAGE CONTROL," Paul was saying, sitting at the desk in the clan base, writing in his journal. His pencil was scribbling furiously on the page, not leaving out a single detail of that past weekend. He found taking notes helped him relax.

Kyle was pacing in front of the desk, his face gaunt and tired. That entire weekend had ruined every chance he had at bringing Andorra back to the Sun Clan, and he wasn't sure what the next move should be.

"How the fuck can we do damage control? Andorra is pissed beyond belief at me and you. Her anger, while aimed at us, will make her hate the entire Sun Clan. She already is infatuated with Noah, even if she doesn't realize it yet. It's only a matter of time until she picks him."

Paul was still writing. Other than the journal, a mug of coffee and a few loose papers sat on the desk, untouched since he started writing. The coffee was still warm, but not hot the way Paul liked it, and it was hazelnut. The loose papers were nothing but jumbled thoughts that could prove helpful, only if you were Paul.

"What's the probability she'll even talk to Noah?"

Kyle threw his hands in his hair and yanked hard enough to make him wince. Pain helped him focus his thoughts. "Noah is the type of boy who doesn't have a heart, so I can't imagine him reaching out towards her, but it's his job to bring her back. He's probably planning exactly what he'll say to her to get her to fall in love with him." Even as the words left Kyle's lips, he found it hard to believe. He'd known Noah as a child, and from the first time the two met, Noah had always been cold hearted and narrowed-eyed. He sat on a pedestal of judgement towards those below him, even as a child.

Paul paused writing long enough to look up at Kyle, watching as the younger man paced and pulled at his hair. He looked less charming as an adult, but even so, Kyle had good looks that would win anyone over. He was the type of person that could win over an entire room just by telling a story.

Right then, Kyle wasn't telling a story. Kyle was pacing and muttering under his breath, coming apart at the seams. "Stupid prophecy," he muttered, cracking his knuckles, a bad habit he'd picked up as a child.

"Kyle, if talking to her won't fix this, an erased memory can. If you can get close enough to her to wipe her memory of the past few days, then she can be yours again."

The danger of wiping memories was that it could be hard to pinpoint exactly when to stop erasing memories. The benefits was that the person would remember nothing, not even their name, if the faerie wiped the memory away enough.

Kyle was very good at wiping memories. As a child, he'd picked up the skill at a young age so that he could run a business of erasing memories for money. Sometimes, that included erasing the memory of the person paying, but sometimes, that included erasing memories of someone else that wasn't paying, or even aware that it would happen to them. At first, it had been fun and games, little party tricks. Kyle would only erase minutes, perhaps hours, and would be rewarded for that.

Now, Kyle could erase everything. Most faeries who honed the skill could; it wasn't a particular power to any faerie, only those that wished to have it. Most did, but not all utilized it the way Kyle did.

"Yeah, that could work actually. If I can get close to her." Kyle stopped pacing for a moment, flipping the idea over in his head. Erasing her memory would be a piece of cake because she wouldn't have any protective walls up that most faeries did. She wouldn't even realize it was happening.

Paul was writing something else down, now. He was scribbling in the margins, his pencil digging into the paper hard enough to rip. "And then, you can do it your way. Romance her, take her out to dinner, talk her through the magic of being a mythical creature."