Free To Kill An Angel by M. Leighton Page B

pouty mouth before she brought it under control, carefully schooling her features into a politely blank mask. 
    It was when her gaze darted to me that I knew my fears were very real.  Our eyes met for only a fraction of a second, but that’s all it took for me to see that Annika had come to find Bo for one reason and one reason alone—to get him back.  She was in love with him.
    “Well, what do you remember?” she prompted.
    “Just my life as it has been since a little over three years ago.  Other than that, occasionally I have dreams that feel so real they’re like memories, but I have no real memories.”
    “And yet you recognized me,” she added meaningfully.
    “I might remember a lot more if I could see the places I’ve been, people I’ve known, things I’ve seen.  Where did you say you’re from?”
    “Lindersberg, Sweden.”
    That’s when I realized the origin of the lilt in her voice.   She was Swedish. 
    “Sweden.  Sweden,” Bo said, nodding slowly and repeating the word as if testing the feel of it on his tongue.  “Tell me about it.”
    “About what?”
    “Where I’m from.”
    It was easy to see that Annika relished having all eyes on her, but more than that, she basked in Bo’s undivided attention.  She reveled in the opportunity to paint the picture of their life together—their life before me.
    Annika spoke in great detail about Lindersberg, several times eliciting a response from Bo.  He was able to recall the orphanage where they met, though not in as much detail as she. 
    “Yes, you walked in like a confident rogue and I thought I must have died and gone to heaven.  Even after you told me of your thirst, I knew that there was no other life for me.  I was so glad when you agreed to turn me.”
    Shocked, Bo sat forward in his seat just as the bottom dropped out of my world. 
    “Turned you?  What?”
    Annika smiled widely.
    “The day you agreed to make me a vampire was the greatest day of my life.  I’m just sorry you don’t remember it.  It was...”
    Annika trailed off, casting her eyes toward the floor and glancing up at Bo from beneath her lashes.  She was so coy I wanted to drop kick her.
    "It was what?” Bo asked in that completely oblivious, masculine way.
    “It was incredible,” she said quietly, her voice a husky whisper.
    “Oh,” Bo murmured, almost dazed.  He slid his fathomless eyes to me, the misery on his face reflected in their endless depths.  “What kind of a person was I?”
    “It doesn’t matter.  You’re not that person anymore.  You don’t know how much of an influence Sebastian had on you back then.”
    Although Bo looked marginally encouraged by my words, the worry carved into his features was plain to see, much like drawings of great burden etched into ancient stone.
    “Do you remember Scabs?” Annika asked.  She seemed as anxious as everyone else to move past the sudden tension.
    Bo’s head jerked up and a smile drifted slowly into place.  It was like a fog lifting gently from the moors.
    “Ohmigod, yeah!  Scabs.  Whatever happened to him?”
    “It turns out that he was an English duke.  He was kidnapped as a child.  His parents finally found him years later.  They identified him by a birthmark on his right cheek.”
    “With all those scabs and acne scars, how could they even see a birthmark?”
    “Not that right cheek,” Annika replied.
    “Ah,” Bo breathed, chuckling.  “So he was royalty?  Scabs?”
    “Yes.  He ended up marrying the beautiful daughter of some other royal family.”
    “Scabs?” Bo repeated disbelievingly.
    “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
    Bo just shook his head, mystified.  “Tell me what happened to everyone else?”
    And so Annika launched into an animated history of all the orphaned and vagrant friends they’d once shared.  As they laughed and reminisced, quite a few facts returned to Bo.  All it took was Annika reminding him of certain details. 
    Bo tried to include me by