After Sako showed me some of his sketches and his finished ink, I was really impressed with his skills. He doesn’t give off the vibe of being an artist and yet just his doodles in the margins show such immense talent.

He tells me that he’s very particular about the work he does and has been known on occasion to piss off Taran, who runs the shop, by turning work down.

“Sometimes what the client wants just doesn’t fit with my vision. Plus, their tastes suck.”

Which, while I’ve only known Sako a few days, seems to fit right in with who I’m slowly getting to know as a person. He’s funny and has a wicked sense of humor. That’s offset by his being a bit of a dick because he’s so picky and precise.

He clearly has the ability to carry it off, though.

When he invites me to go into the shop with him, I’m really excited. And more than just being glad to get out of the apartment for a while. It’s because I get to spend time with him.

We agreed not to discuss the whole fated mate thing, but it’s hard not to think about it when I feel this connection with him that defies any explanation. I mean, how can I know nothing about a guy and yet feel like we were meant to be together?

It defies logic.

I keep all that to myself, though. Sako doesn’t seem ready to talk about it and I don’t want to be a bad guest and piss him off.

Besides, if he throws me out now, where will I go?

When we get to Treasured Ink, it is exactly as I envisioned it. It’s brightly lit, yet darkly decorated, giving the impression of a den more than a shop of any description. The music is loud and there’s art on every wall. I can definitely pick out distinct art styles and spot Sako’s almost immediately.

He motions me past the front counter into the main body of the shop. He tosses his jacket on his stool and tells me to sit. The only place is on the chair where I think he does his tattooing. I ease to sit on the edge.

Everyone’s eyes are on me, watching me. It’s not very comfortable. I know Varos seems to be okay with me. I wasn’t sure about the guy who came with Sako, his name is Taran I think, but he was nice enough. There are two other guys there and both are giving me some serious stink-eye.

It’s hard not to feel like I’m being sized up.

I must have been involved with some bad shit to be getting this vibe from them.

Sako glances at me and he flashes me a quick smile.

“I don’t have a client for a bit,” he says as he rolls up his stool to sit on it. “So I asked if Varos and Ronnie have some time to talk to you and maybe help you remember something that can help us.”

“Ronnie?” I look around. Was he one of the guys there glowering at me?

As if he read my mind, Sako shakes his head. “He’s not here yet.”

One of the big guys looking at me like he wants to squash me finally comes over. He’s much bigger this close and with his hands propped on his hips, my hackles are starting to rise from the aggressive stance. “This him?” he asks gruffly.

“Carlo, this is Nyve. Yes, this is him,” Sako says motioning to me.

“And you say he doesn’t remember shit?”

“Well, I remember shit, just not anything useful.” I smile, baring my teeth and trying really hard not to snarl. I get that they don’t like me but I’m way outnumbered here. Four guys on one? Not really good odds.

Nyve snorts and strolls away. “I’ll get Taran.”

“Don’t mind him,” Sako says as straightens his station. “His partner just had a baby and he’s not getting his beauty rest.”

This Nyve reappears a handful of seconds later, followed by Taran, Varos and some guy with blinding white hair and a baby on his hip. “Carlo, wasn’t expecting to see you here until Varos said something.”

“If it’s a problem, I don’t mind getting lost.”

“I think you are already lost,” Sako says. “We want to help you get unlost and maybe get some answers to questions we have.”

Taran slaps the last guy in the shop. “Bronaz, wrap up and get over here.”

The group suddenly seems to triple in size as they’re all milling around, grabbing chairs. Another guy comes from the back of the shop with a baby carrier and a diaper bag. The baby inside is obviously having as bad a day as I am judging by how loudly he’s crying. “Nyve, can I get your help?”

Nyve gives up his stool for the guy and takes the carrier. When he starts to swing it, the baby settles down.

The rest drag up their chairs and stools to sit around me. Suddenly, I’m in the spotlight with everyone’s attention on me, like I have all the answers. It’s distinctly uncomfortable.

Taran leans back in his chair and takes the baby from the blond guy. She’s a really cute little girl with curly reddish blond hair. “So, you still don’t remember anything?”

I shake my head. “Sometimes I get these vague,” I wiggle my fingers near my head, “images. Things or places or people I feel like I’m supposed to know but their names just don’t come to me. Or a feeling like I should know something.”

Taran’s lips purse in thought.

“What about your email address? Any ideas what it would be? We could start there, trying to get you into your email account.” Everyone turns to see some guy with red hair coming around the corner of the counter.

“This is Ronnie, one of the best hackers in the city,” Varos says with a wave of his hand. “This is Carlo.”

“So you’re the guy—” Ronnie doesn’t finish his sentence before all the guys are looking at him with frowns on their faces. “Right. This is the guy.”

I wish someone would tell me what it is that I have done that would have all of them so pissed at me. I just don’t get it.

“Alright,” Ronnie says. He sits at my feet and perches his laptop on his legs. “Why not let’s start with what we do know?”

I tell this guy Ronnie everything I remember. My name, the names of my now dead friends…the little bits of memory that I do have. The others apparently know more about me than I do, knowing when I was shot, what area they found me unconscious.

“Does Genadyne mean anything to you?”

If it should, it’s not registering with me. I shake my head.

“What about the name Bradley Templeton?” Still nothing. “Luxury Apartments Management?”

“Is that a property management place?” I ask.

Ronnie nods.

“It’s not ringing a bell but I feel like I should know it.”

Bronaz snorts and Taran nudges him to keep quiet. “It’s fine, Carlo. Just keep those things in the back of your mind. If something comes to you, just let us know.”

“All right,” Ronnie’s fingers were flying over the keyboard. “Oh hello.”

That has everyone’s attention and they all sit up.

“Carlo Yovan, I have found where you live.”

I’m not sure why that surprises me. I’m sure I lived somewhere, right? But after all this time, no one seems to know anything about me, the cops take no notice of the guy who was face down in the grass with a gunshot wound and now some hacker finds out my address?

What is going on here? How was I so easily able to hide in plain sight?

“Up town,” Ronnie turns the laptop around so we can see the apartment complex where I supposedly life. “Aspen Heights. Very swanky neighborhood. You got a rich family or a rich sugar daddy, dude.”

My face heats at the thought of having a sugar daddy bankrolling my place to live. “That doesn’t make any sense,” I say softly. “I am from money but I walked away from that years ago, before I joined this organization, and sugar daddies aren’t my thing.”

“How do you know?” Sako asks. “You don’t remember.”

I give him a bland look. “I really don’t think sugar daddies are my thing.”

He holds his hands up. “Fine. No sugar daddies. So that must mean you were being bankrolled somehow.”

Ronnie is still typing away while we all talk around him. “Wait…of course. Wanna guess who owns the apartment complex our new friend lives at?”

“No shit.” Nyve stops swinging the carrier and looks over Ronnie’s shoulder. “Our very own real estate mogul, Mr. Templeton.”

Varos leans in as well to watch. “There’s your tie.”

“Yeah, but we kind of already knew that,” the blond guy says. He looks weirdly at me and cocks his head to the side. “And I swear I’ve met you before.”

I feel like a deer in the headlights. “Um…okay. I swear that I have no idea. You don’t look familiar to me at all.”

“I’m Nosko. Robert Nosko. I’m married to this guy,” and he nods to Taran. “I own Second Floor Art Gallery.”

Still not ringing a bell and I shake my head.

“Bank holiday.” Ronnie’s sudden non-sequitur has everyone looking at him.

“What?” Varos asks.

“I just had a thought but we can’t do anything until day after tomorrow since Monday’s a bank holiday.”

“Are you going to tell us or is this where we start playing charades?” Nyve bumps Ronnie’s shoulder with his elbow.

“Oh, just that Carlo can go to the management office at the apartment complex on Tuesday and get a spare key to get into his apartment.” Everyone is looking blankly at Ronnie, who sighs. “If Carlo goes to his apartment, maybe something with trigger a memory. Or at the very least, he’ll have something lying around that will help us out.”

The murmur of approval gives me hope. I’m really low on ideas of what I can do to spur my memory back into place.

“That’s it, then,” Sako says. “We’ll go on Tuesday.”

“Of course!” Nosko jumps to his feet. “I do remember you coming into the gallery. You came in with someone.” He waves his hands around. “I remember it clear as day. You and this other guy came in.”

“What did they do?” asks Sako.

“Nothing,” Nosko says but he’s looking at me like he wants to put a boot in my face. “They didn’t stay long. Just walked in the front door, spoke to my manager because I was busy with something else, looked around and left. That was it. So you people have been to my place of business.”

You people. The accusation is pretty obvious and I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do or say. Tell them I’m sorry? I don’t even remember!

“Give the guy a break, Nosko,” Taran says. “This is obviously a little overwhelming.”

Nosko makes a noise and grabs the little girl to go into the back of the shop. That leaves everyone else looking at me.

Suddenly, I feel like I am definitely not where I belong.

The baby in the carrier starts wailing again and the man who was obviously one of the fathers stands up to take the baby out.

“What is wrong with him?” Nyve asks as he sets the carrier to the side.

“I don’t know. He’s been fussy all morning. I have a call into Kuras.”

Something occurs to me and since the meeting has broken up and I’m not feeling so trapped, I go to him. “Um, yeah, you don’t know me,” I say, then stop. “Well, you probably do know me but I don’t know you. Anyway, I um…can I try something I remember?”

I hold my hands out for the baby.

Nyve’s lip curls and a deep growl emanates from his chest. The smaller guy, obviously the omega and partner to Nyve, elbows him. “Quiet,” he hisses over his shoulder. Then to me, “Sure. I’m Austin, by the way.”

“Carlo, but you know that.”

I take the baby and turn him on his stomach. Doing what the images in my memory show me to do, I cradle him carefully, drawing his arms close to his body. Cradling his chin and bum and tilting him at a forty-five degree angle, I start to swing him side to side.

The crying stops immediately, leaving Austin and Nyve both staring at me dumbly. “How did you do that?” Austin asks.

“I don’t really know. I think I saw this on TV once.” I’m kind of amazed it works, too. Yet, in a way, I knew it would work. I just don’t know why I know.

“Did you see how he does that?” Austin tilts his chin to look up at Nyve, who nods.

“The trick, I think, is to make sure his head and chin stay stabilized. By making sure the arms are held securely, you just make sure the motion is smooth and steady.”

“Will up and down work, too?” Nyve holds his hands out for his son and I gingerly transfer the baby to him.

“I think if you do what works, you should be okay.”

Austin smiles at me. “Thanks.”

I shrug. “Sure.”

I didn’t think that I’d be good with kids. Considering it appears that I hang with a very tough crowd, I wouldn’t have believed that I’d be suited for them.

Holding the baby for as long as I did, though, has me thinking.

My life is so topsy-turvy right now, I’m not sure of anything except that I like the way Sako is looking at me when I sit down again.