I can remember a woman. She has dark hair, dark eyes. My memory is hazy, but she's there, invading my dreams night after night. And dear God, the memory of her. I know her scent, how soft her skin is, what she feels like underneath me...
But for the life of me, I cannot remember her name. Is she a figment of my imagination? I can't tell anymore. I've been with B*E*A*S*T* for too damn long. Noah had the right idea when he fled the compound. But I can't bring myself to leave. Not when all the information I need to know is on B*E*A*S*T*'s mainframe computers. I've got to find some way to hack into them.
I have to know if this woman is a memory.
Until I know for sure, I must pretend to be on B*E*A*S*T*'s side, and it's killing me inside. How much longer do I pretend to be one of the bad guys? How much longer do I have to watch innocent people suffer?
But this woman is so real that I can't bring myself to flee--not yet. Not until I know the truth. My one and only thought of her is making love underneath a bright moon. Every night it's the same--I hear her soft moans surrounding me--and every night I wake up expecting to find her in my arms.
She's never there.
Christ, who is this woman? And why can't I get her out of my head?
One thing's for sure. If she is real, there's no way in hell she'd ever love me again. Not if she knew of the creature that now lives inside of me.