Echoes of Time (Echoes of Time Travel Series: Book One)

by Rylee Swann

  Her lips curved up in approval. “Ah, blunt. I like that.”

  His nostrils flared but he kept his voice neutral. “That is not an answer.”

  “No, it isn’t. Would my name tell you who I am?”

  “No,” Shawn growled, at the end of his patience.

  “But do you want to know my name?”

  Shawn stopped walking, and she continued for a few steps before realizing. With her head cocked and her hands on her hips, she shot him that damnable smile.

  He shrugged, giving her an annoyed scowl. “If you offer me nothing of interest, I find no reason to walk with you. I can find less annoying ways to amuse myself here.”

  He turned, as if to head back the way he’d come.

  “Wait, I’m sorry. Don’t go.”

  He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder, brows raised. He wouldn’t have guessed she’d become apologetic.

  “It is rude that I know all about you and you know nothing of me. Will you accept my apology?” She pleaded with her eyes as he turned fully to face her. When he didn’t respond, she said, “I’m Alsoomse, but I go by Allie.”

  “Alsoomse. The name suits you. You strike me as fiercely independent.”

  Allie gaped at him, then let out a laugh. “Matt told me you knew Algonquin, but it’s still a shock coming from someone who isn’t full-blooded. So, are we okay, now?”

  He ignored her question, more disturbed by her comment. “What do you mean by not ‘full-blooded’?”

  “Oh, it’s okay. I can see that you’re not. Not many would, but I know what to look for. You do look almost full-blooded, if that helps any.”

  It didn’t help, and bothered him a great deal. More than he would ever let on.

  “You’re not full-blooded either,” he said, indicating her blue eyes.

  “Right, and that’s why I know what to look for.” She stepped up to him and held out her right hand. “We cool?”

  He wanted very much to leave her hanging, rebuffed. But it would be foolish to make enemies here, even an aggravating little snipe like Allie.

  He gave her a firm but quick handshake. “Yet, still, I know nothing of who you are.”

  “Ah-huh, do you want to stand here all day talking, or do you want to follow me to where Ramón is waiting for you?”

  This surprised him. He’d expected Matt to take him.

  “Lead the way.” He indicated the path with a flourish.

  She continued down the path and farther into the settlement. “Matt is already there, along with some of the others, so they sent me as their little errand girl.”

  Shawn caught the petulance in her tone but made no comment. Instead, he quietly reconsidered his assessment of her. Maybe there was more to her, some manner of substance.

  The roar of water and a clean scent laced with the slight odor of fish drifted to Shawn before they came upon the river.

  His pores, his heart, his soul opened, and he had to forcibly tamp down the sudden urgent need to rush forward and dive into the fresh running water. He’d been making use of man-made swimming pools for far too long. Running a hand through his hair and swallowing hard, he followed Allie, almost desperate for her to walk faster. Instead, she continued at her leisurely pace blissfully unaware that Shawn’s skin crawled like so many ants across his body.

  They passed wigwams interspersed among the shade-providing trees. Scantily clad children ran and howled in play, dogs yapping at their heels, while mothers and maidens sat in front of their shelters tending to cooking fires or mending deerskin clothing with porcupine needles.

  Shawn tried to concentrate on these things, this place out of time, but with each step that drew him closer to the water he found it harder and harder.

  “We’re nearing the Yukon River?” He already knew the answer, but hoped Allie would tell him how close they were.

  “Yes, we’re right on time and almost there. Ramón and the others are on the other end of this path.” She led Shawn down a tree-lined trail, the canopy of leafy branches obscuring the sun and plunging them into a false twilight. “Do you like to swim?”

  “Yes,” Shawn said, tight-lipped. Along with the desire to plunge into the river, excitement hummed through his body. He was about to meet his target, size him up, and determine the best method and time to kill him. That was all he was here for, and that was all he would do, he promised himself. Nothing else mattered.

  Allie glanced back at him, her eyes trailing a path up and down his body. “Yeah, swimmer’s body. That’s what I thought. The Yukon can get murky, but I’m sure you’ll make do. You know, after it goes through Alaska it eventually empties into the Bering Sea? If you go too far you gotta watch out for those pesky Russkis.” She used the derogatory term for Russians and chuckled at her own little joke. A few minutes later she spread her arms wide. “We’re here.”

  She guided him around the last bend in the trail and it opened up onto the river. The water rushed by with pleasant gurgles and splashes, like a freight train late for its next stop. Shawn strode past Allie to the water’s edge. Breathing in, he filled his lungs and smiled.

  When he turned back to Allie, his unsmiling expression had returned to match the seriousness of this moment. “Where is Ramón?”

  “There.” She pointed to a small log cabin a little farther up the shore. It stood on a grassy patch of land in front of another longhouse.

  Shawn nodded and took off at a jog, his feet sinking into the sandy shoreline. Allie scrambled to keep up. He reached the door of the cabin a few steps ahead of her. Without a glance back, he raised a hand to knock, but a blur of motion and a loud tsk froze him in place. Allie had caught up, and she threw open the door to enter ahead of Shawn.

  Following her, he stepped into the gloom of the interior—there was no sign of electrical lighting—and he found himself in an old-fashioned one-room schoolhouse. Two small dingy windows, one on either end of the room, did little to brighten the atmosphere, letting in barely enough sunlight to light the room. Kerosene lamps were stored on shelves in a corner, to be used after dusk. A large black chalkboard took up almost the entire wall and antique wooden student desk chairs formed two semi-circles, one behind the other, facing the front of the room.

  The chairs were occupied by boys in their teens and men in their early twenties, including Matt, all dressed in traditional native garb. The squeak and squeal of wood against wood sounded as chairs were pushed back. Fifteen or so sets of dark intelligent eyes turned to stare at Shawn. None harbored animosity or presented an immediate threat, and Matt had a big grin on his face.

  A man stood at the front of the room, and after Shawn’s quick survey of those seated, he lifted his eyes to him. A handsome man in his mid-fifties with a blinding smile returned the gaze. He wore a custom-tailored brown Italian suit and white shirt, and his jet-black hair shone as if lit from within. Shawn attributed the shine to hair products.

  Ramón Soriano.

  “Ah, come in, come in!” Ramón’s voice boomed out. “I am so glad you are here, Señor Paros! Come, come.” He beckoned for Shawn to come closer, and he took a few steps farther into the room as Allie moved to the side. “Alsoomse, my dear, thank you for guiding our honored guest here.”

  “You’re welcome.” She bowed her head in deference.

  “Are there any other tasks or duties that require your attention?” Ramón had a pleasant Latin lilt to his voice that Shawn found oddly soothing.

  “No, I’ll just go…”

  “Nonsense, my dear! Stay. Take a seat. Be welcomed. And, you too, Señor Paros? Won’t you sit and join us? I am, after all, Ramón Soriano. The man you’ve been seeking, no?”

  Shawn noted the surprised yet pleased expression on Allie’s face as she took an empty chair in the circle. He remained standing.

  “Yes, I have been looking forward to meeting you, Ramón, but what is all this? I thought we might speak in private.”

  Ramón let out a big booming laugh. “Please feel free to say whate
ver you want to in front of my boys. We’re all in the same trade and so have little to hide.”

  Shawn looked from Ramón to those gathered. No, Ramón couldn’t have meant that all of them were literally his children. That would make the man a machine. So, what was this then?

  “Ramón, what have I walked in on? I don’t want to disturb a meeting in progress.”

  Ramón clapped his hands together. “Ah! Gentlemen, do you see how Shawn stays behind all of you? How he does not take the offered seat? And how he stays closest to the door while he determines if you are friends or foes? I’m thrilled that you can see him in action and, if he is willing, to know what he can teach you.” He turned to Shawn. “Forgive me, but I have told them who you are prior to your arrival. I was too excited to keep the news to myself.”

  Shawn thought he had an idea of what this was really all about, but the pieces hadn’t quite yet fallen into place. If he was right, there was much more going on than Alec’s people could have dreamed of.

  He offered a tight smile to Ramón. “So, you told them that you and I are in the same trade? The same business?”

  Ramón nodded and spread his arms wide. “In many ways, you are as infamous as I.”

  “Alright, but who are—?”

  Matt laughed as several of the others pointed imaginary guns at Shawn and pulled the trigger making little pew-pew sounds. If the situation had been less serious, Shawn would have found it amusing. “Dude, we’re assassins-in-training. Learning from the best. And now that you’re here, we can’t miss.”

  The words hit Shawn like a tidal wave, and he took an empty seat next to Allie before he fell over.

  Assassins, all of them.

  How the hell was he going to kill Ramón and get away with so many trigger-happy, well-trained followers around?

  17

  Shawn tensed as Ramón took a couple of steps toward him. He wanted no trouble with the assassin right now and forced his hands to unclench. Any outward signs of hostility could get him killed.

  He glanced around the room, always keeping Ramón in his peripheral vision. The faces surrounding him were eager, their eyes alight with anticipation. His gaze fell upon Matt last, who winked and gave him a thumbs-up. Beside him, Allie drummed her fingers on the desk.

  A couple of the faces were hardened and reeked of criminality. Shawn needed to get a handle on who might have his back as they got to know him and who would be lethal enemies.

  “So, Señor Paros,” Ramón said, drawing Shawn’s full attention back to him. “You now know why I want you here. It is time for you to tell us why you were looking for me.”

  Shawn thought quickly. He needed a lot of information from Ramón fast, and he didn’t know how much the assassin would be willing to reveal.

  “No.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes leveled on Ramón.

  A few of the men murmured among themselves in surprised tones. Ramón’s eyes grew wide, his brows rising to disappear beneath a mass of shiny black hair.

  “No? I do think, my boy, that it is in your best interest to elaborate.”

  The words held a subtle threat, but Shawn was prepared. “In this room are your trainees. I will not discuss important matters between us in their presence. Dismiss those who haven’t yet killed for you, and we’ll talk.”

  Ramón tapped a finger to his chin and nodded thoughtfully.

  “Alright,” he said after a longer than comfortable pause. He made a shooing gesture, and the majority of the men got up with an almost collective sigh and left the cabin. Allie stood to leave also, but Ramón gave a small shake of his head, and she dropped back into her seat with a surprised huff.

  Four men remained, including Matt. This was a much more manageable number. And now, Shawn knew who already had the killer instinct. Except for Allie. She was still a question mark.

  Ramón tapped his fine Italian leather boot impatiently, and Shawn knew better than to keep him waiting any longer.

  “Alright, so you want a reason to why I sought you out,” he said.

  The four younger assassins leaned forward in their seats as if choreographed, and Shawn felt Allie’s eyes on him as well.

  “It’s very simple. You are a successful and feared assassin, much like me. You and I are untouchable. Yet, for the most part, this is a solitary profession. There’s no one to trust, so there can’t be any long-term associations, in either business or pleasure. I grew tired of that, and thought you and I could discuss some sort of partnership,” he lied. “I had no idea you’d already come up with a solution to what I’m speaking of.”

  Shawn’s cards were on the table and he’d pushed his chips all in. If Ramón didn’t take the bet, he might have to fight his way out. He kept a steady gaze on Ramón, his muscles coiling in preparation.

  A slow smile spread across Ramón’s face that turned into a chuckle, which turned into a belly laugh. Yet, Shawn remained tense, in case he’d misread Ramón’s pleasure with the situation.

  “Ah, Señor Paros, what is that old and, therefore, cliched expression? Great minds, we think alike? Yes, indeed, that is it.” He clapped his hands together and rocked back onto his heels, looking like a proud papa. “It pleases me no end that you are here for such a grand purpose.”

  The four other assassins relaxed in their seats, and from the corner of his eye, Shawn saw Allie smile, but he didn’t congratulate himself just yet. Something was missing. His instincts told him that danger still loomed, and he always trusted his instincts.

  “I’m glad to be here too but I’m sure there are a lot of details to discuss. How this will work and—”

  “Indeed, indeed.” Ramón smiled gregariously as he cut Shawn off. “Of course, you are aware that I cannot trust you until you have proven yourself?”

  Shawn placed his hands in front of him on the desk, as if to show Ramón that he held no weapons, a show of trust.

  “Yes, if that wasn’t the case, I’d think you were slipping.” Shawn inclined his head to indicate he meant no insult, and Ramón nodded. “How would you like me to—?”

  Again, Ramón cut him off. He liked to be in charge, and Shawn did nothing to make him think he was anything less than the leader.

  “Not now, my boy. There will be ample time for that. For now, enjoy my hospitality. Get to know the others. Blend in.” To this, Ramón laughed. “It is remarkable how well you do, indeed, fit in. Wouldn’t you say? Alsoomse, please take our new associate to the longhouse, give him appropriate clothing, and make sure he is comfortable.”

  Ramón turned away, hands clasped behind his back, and set his gaze out the window to the waters of the Yukon that rushed noisily past the cabin. Clearly, they were dismissed. Shawn stood and motioned for Allie to lead the way.

  The other four assassins also stood and followed them out of the cabin.

  When they started to walk up the short path to the longhouse, Allie clucked her tongue. “Go find another way to entertain yourselves.”

  Matt turned to her with a puppy-dog expression. “Ah, c’mon, Allie. I have so much to discuss with Shawn.”

  “No, Matt.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, toward the village. “Take the others and go away. Let me get him settled. Then he is all yours.”

  Matt moaned like he’d been mortally wounded but winked at Allie. “C’mon, boys. Allie’s laid down the law.”

  The four departed, leaving Shawn and Allie alone as she led him to the longhouse. Shawn glanced back as they entered the structure but none of the others had followed.

  Shawn found himself in another typical longhouse from the past. There was a central area for a fire, and individual areas distinguished by piles of animal skins on the dirt floor to serve as beds with nearby personal possessions such as stone knives and clay bowls.

  Allie darted to a large chest at the far end of the house and threw it open. From within, she pulled out several animal skins before returning to Shawn. “Pick a spot.”

  He looked from the skins to her face to the
many piles of bedding. “Wait, you’re not serious, are you? I’m expected to sleep here?”

  She laughed as she readjusted the heavy load. “What? The great Shawn Paros is too good to sleep with the rest of the boys? Come on and pick a spot. These are heavy.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just thought we’d get better accommodations. This isn’t 1896.” He used the Klondike gold rush date as his reference point, although all he’d seen so far could have been mistaken for much earlier in history.

  Allie clucked her tongue and shoved the skins into Shawn’s arms. “You seem to have already bonded with Matt. His bed is there.” She pointed to a spot against the wall, across from the door. “And there’s room nearby for you. Go claim the space.”

  Hands on her hips, she tapped her foot until Shawn moved.

  Grudgingly, Shawn went to the open floor space near Matt’s bed and dropped the skins. “Where do you sleep?”

  “Not here.” She walked back to the large chest, glancing over her shoulder. “And don’t think I’m making your bed for you.”

  With an inward chuckle, Shawn bent to the task of arranging his bedding to his liking while Allie rummaged through the chest. She returned to him carrying crudely made stoneware utensils and a clay pot painted brown, a slim white circle below the lip. She laid them down alongside his bed and went back to the chest for a third time. When she returned, she carried a leather breechcloth, belt, individual fringed leggings—one each for the left and right leg—and a pair of moccasins, all neatly piled up like a load of freshly laundered clothing.

  “Here you go. Breechcloth for during the day, and leggings for chilly nights. You use the belt to attach—”

  “I know how to wear it. My question is, why am I wearing it?”

  “Because you’re one of Ramón’s boys now.” She held up a hand before Shawn could argue. “If you take a position higher in the hierarchy, more on a level with Ramón, then you can discuss that with him. For now, you’re one of the tribe.” She shoved what she held into Shawn’s arms. “I’ll leave you to change.”