Chapter 5Tarin opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the light. Fragmented memories of the night’s events chased through his mind: a really bad nightmare; Anton’s face at the window; a large, naked man; and being held by Boyce.
At that last memory—or was that, too, a dream?—Tarin looked around; the other half of the bed was empty. He sat up, rubbing one sleep-gritty eye and then the other. The immaculate bedroom was beyond simply neat and tidy; it was barely used. Thinking back, Tarin realised Boyce’s living room had possessed the same quality. Odd.
Swinging his legs out of the bed, he spotted his bags and clothes, yet he had no memory of them being brought from his room. Huh. Was that nice, or creepy? Tarin skipped a shower and dressed hurriedly; he wanted to find Boyce. Something wa
