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quarters or dollar bills for the vending machine.” 
    “I only have a fifty and credit cards,” Alik offered.
    Farrow was shuffling through the glove box in search of coins, but coming up dry.  “I only found six quarters, a nickel, two dimes and a bunch of pennies stuck together with spilled soda.  Yuck.” 
    “That’ll buy just enough food to make me mad,” Cole grumbled.
    “Well, I could jury-rig the machines and we could leave the fifty inside,” Evan offered casually.
    Cole sat upright and looked over at the thirteen-year-old with puppy-dog eyes.  “I love you, man.”
    Evan rolled his eyes.  “It’s not a big deal.”
    “Don’t you ever say that again, little brother!” Cole was nodding dramatically.  “This is a special moment between us.  My stomach is about to eat itself, I’m so hungry.  Your act of not-quite thievery is pure goodness, dude!”
    “Maybe they’ll be the kind of machines that take credit cards,” Alik mumbled.
    “Let’s hope so,” Farrow shook her head at the boys.
    Creed was ignoring Cole and watching Meg instead.  She was lying on her side, her back to him.  Her dark hair spilling behind her, showing not only the beautiful curve of her shoulder and neck, but the angry, fresh cuts in side the infinity symbol at the nape of her neck.
    “Meg?” Creed was turned around in his seat so he could whisper into the back where his sun and moon just breathed a deep sigh.
    “Hmm?”
    “Are you awake?”
    “Yes.”
    “How do you feel?”
    “Thoughtful.”
    “What are you thinking about?”
    “Who I am.”
    “You have no memories at all?”
    “The furthest back I can remember was a few hours ago on the helicopter.”
    “What can I do to help?”
    “Tell me about myself.”
    The rest of the car ’s occupants chattered on about snacks and gas and bathroom breaks.  Meg and Creed were in their own world as they spoke.
    “You are a metahuman.  Williams, the bloody guy in the chopper, experimented on us as children.  Our DNA was altered by an injection of what’s called the Infinite Serum.  Your mom, Dr. Margo Winter , rescued you and your brothers from him, hiding you away for years.”
    “I’ve lost all these memories—I’ve lost myself.”
    The rest of the SUV had quieted to listen to their conversation.
    “Meg, I was thinking,” Evan spoke up, “It’s possible the ‘perfect concussion’ Arkdone performed on you to wipe your memory could heal over time.”
    “What do you mean?” Creed asked.
    “He’s right.  I’ve been thinking the same,” Sloan nodded.
    “I mean, the machine’s sub aural blast targeted the part of your brain that holds long-term memories—the hippocampus.  If I understand the method correctly, it basically created targeted damage to that part of your brain.  Like a tiny explosion went off right there.  Well, as a metahuman you have advanced healing capabilities.  While I doubt a human would ever recover the functioning of that damaged brain tissue, you may be different.”
    “Are you saying I could get my memory back as my brain heals?”
    “Maybe.  It’s possible.”
    “When?”
    “We may have rapid healing, Meg, but even our healing takes time.  I would like to monitor your memories over a period of the next year or two to look for progress.”
    “That’s a long time,” Creed voiced the words Meg couldn’t.
    “The injury she sustained was very serious.”
    “Meanwhile, we can tell you all about your life before and you could make new memories in the here and now,” Alik offered gently.
    Meg moved slowly to sit up, careful not to disturb the sleeping coydog who kept her so warm.
    “There’s not much else that can be done, I suppose.” Meg couldn’t meet Creed’s gaze for a moment before she finally gave in to the draw .  She looked at the chiseled-face, blue-eyed man who watched her with a mixture of devotion and concern.
    “You and me, we were together?”
    Creed tried not to cringe at her use of the