I pried my white-knuckled fingers off the steering wheel while I took stock of the situation. There weren’t any cars parked on the street—most people in Gunnison know better. I hadn’t hit anything except the snow bank, and congratulated myself for it. I stretched my neck from side-to-side. I’d be stiff tomorrow, more from being so tense when I hit the bank than anything else. I took a deep breath and pulled my gloves from my pocket so I could get out and assess the damage.
Since Gunnison is a mountain town, the city has to be vigilant about keeping the roads clear of snow and ice. The problem was that it had snowed yesterday. While the streets were relatively clear, the sun had melted what was left on the road during the day. When the temperatures dropped after sunset, the melted snow turned to ice. Most of it was easy to see, but occasionally, there would be a patch of black ice, which is what I’d just driven into.
There had been a fight about me driving my Mustang in the winter. Alex seemed to think he couldn’t protect me very well if I was dead. He argued that driving my Mustang in the snow would make death inevitable. He’s an overreactor who only thinks in worst-case scenarios. Considering Alex’s disdain for my car in general, I knew the fight was coming and had promised myself I wouldn’t resort to name-calling. It had started out innocently enough, but quickly moved to what I now refer to as the hard-head zone—something Alex and I both have, but mine seems to be aggravated by Alex, and vice versa.
Alex said he had plenty of nicely equipped four-wheel drive vehicles I could use. I said if I wanted to drive a car with no personality, I would have bought one like his in the first place. He said that unlike my Mustang, his cars wouldn’t kill me. I said at least mine was made of metal instead of plastic. He glared. I glared. We both stomped off. The fact that I’d spun out tonight wouldn’t help my case, so I hoped he wasn’t watching me with his magic ring. I wasn’t up for an argument.
I slipped on my gloves and opened the car door. Hopefully, I’d be able to get out of the snow bank. Rear-wheel drive is bad enough, but attempting to use rear-wheel drive in reverse is like an ant trying to move a pumpkin. A big one. If I could get traction, I’d be okay. The car had spun, hitting the snow bank from the side, so only the right front bumper had taken the impact. The bumper looked a little bent, but I could probably fix that myself. I’d have to check it when I got home. I made my way around the rest of the car, inspecting it for damage. Everything else seemed fine.
When I got to the back of the car, I looked at the road to see if I’d be able to back out. Ice patches littered the ground, but not so much that I couldn’t see pavement.
I opened the trunk, pulling out a bag of salt. I grew up in Montana where winter weather is as bad as Gunnison’s. I keep bags of salt in the trunk for extra weight to give me more control in the snow, and for times like tonight when I slide anyway and need to use the salt for traction. I sprinkled a few cupfuls behind each of the tires to help melt the ice and give the wheels something to grip as I backed up. I bent down to lift the bag of salt and was suddenly hit by the sharp smell of wet paint. I wrinkled my nose. Weird. Someone must be doing home improvement—and they had potent paint. I put the bag of salt back in the trunk, the area around me illuminated by a street light. And that’s when I saw it: a black misty shadow.
It happened so quickly, it took me a minute to register that the shadow had darted from the tree behind the snow bank—the tree less than ten feet away from me—to the side of the red brick house that would have given me a street bowling strike if not for the snow bank bumpers.
My heart started to race as I slammed the trunk shut. I practically skated from the back of the Mustang to the car door. I shut the door, punching the lock down as I scanned the trees and surrounding area.
The shadow had moved so fast, I wondered if anything was really there at all. Lately in my life, it was becoming difficult to tell reality from my imagination and memories. But my heart was still racing, and my gut told me something had been behind that tree. I shook as I started the engine, the sharp smell of oil and gas hitting the air. I said a silent prayer to whatever Goddesses were listening, and hoped my Mustang would move. It took all my willpower not to punch the accelerator to the ground and get away from whatever other worldly thing was haunting me. Shifting the car into reverse, I slowly pressed the gas. Relief washed over me when the car rolled backward without spinning its wheels or getting stuck on the ice. I shoved the car into drive.
I turned out of the neighborhood, blowing out a long breath. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a shadow like that; I had a feeling it wouldn’t be my last.
The next morning, I set the house alarm—a gift / requirement from Alex—and went out the front door. My best friend and housemate, Jasmine, thought an alarm was unnecessary. She’d argued that we live in Gunnison, not Chicago. Normally, I’d agree with her, but there was a lot going on that she didn’t know about.
I’ve had a hard time figuring out where Jasmine fits in my life now that I know who I really am. Telling her is out of the question. I’m not even supposed to know about the Amaranthine Society and Daevos Resistance. And if Jasmine did know, it would put her at risk. Because of that, I’d become more introverted lately, especially since the incident at Halloween when I saw something Jasmine and Zach certainly didn’t see.
Since I couldn’t let Jasmine, or anyone, in on the Amaranthine and Daevos secret, Jas and I had gradually drifted apart. She stopped asking if I wanted to hang out after I kept coming up with excuses. Now, we rarely even texted each other, and if I saw her at the house, we’d mutter a ‘hello,’ and maybe have some small talk about the weather, but nothing deeper than that. I could tell she was upset about it—I was too—but we hadn’t discussed it. I didn’t know what I’d say when we finally did.
As I walked to class, I passed shrubs and trees weighted with mounds of snow; the early morning sunlight hitting the frozen crystals made them glitter. Our house wasn’t far from campus, and I was in the mood for fresh air—in the daylight, where shadows didn’t lurk.
Last night wasn’t the first time I’d seen a shadow. I’d been confronted by a pee-your-pants scary shadow outside my kitchen window on a balmy night last summer. But since Caleb was the only one trying to hurt me at the time, I’d connected the shadow figure to Caleb’s evil Daevos Resistance Clan. Caleb had been trying to use me and Alex to get information about the Amaranthine Society, the soul Protectors. I thought the shadow problem had been taken care of after Alex, Emil and I took the souls of Caleb and his Clan. Apparently, I’d been wrong to assume the shadows would go away simply because Caleb was gone too.
In the process of trying to stop Caleb, I’d learned about some pretty cool powers of my own. I had no idea where they came from, and so far, neither did anyone else. But my ability to control Daevos members with my thoughts was handy…I just didn’t know if it would work on fiend-y shadow figures. Luckily, it didn’t seem like the shadow had been up for cupcakes and coffee either. I replayed the previous night in my head again. I’d only seen the shadow move once. Despite my attentive watching, after it ran from the tree to the side of the house, I didn’t see it again.
Really, I should have told Alex and Emil about it as soon as I got home last night, but I wasn’t even sure what I’d seen. I knew telling them would cause an epic overreaction, so I’d decided to wait.
As soon as I’d calmed down the night before, I’d gone straight to my bookshelf. I moved my Hunger Games boxed set, and pulled a lavender leather-bound book out from behind the trilogy; my personal weird-things-that-happen-to-Evie catalog. I dated the top of the page, noted my location, what I’d been doing at the time of the flashback, and wrote a detailed account of what I’d seen.
When my flashbacks started seven months ago, I’d only had two: one the first time I touched Alex, another the first time I touched Emil. However, since my encounter with Caleb, the flashbacks to my previous life as Cassandra had started happening more often. I had no idea what caused them, or why t
hey were more frequent now, though I had a feeling it was a result of the mind Sync Caleb had subjected me and Alex to.
Also, since the mind Sync, my flashbacks had been…unpredictable. In the past, I’d just seen the flashbacks, like a silent bystander watching them play out. Now, the flashbacks were more like memories that I was reliving. I wasn’t just watching Cassandra, Emil, and Alex; I was there, I was her. It was like the past and present were merging in my mind. I’d also been able to feel some of the flashbacks—complete with Cassandra’s thoughts and emotions. Other times, the flashbacks were like a fuzzy memory; I was there, but got less detail and information. I had no idea what was causing the flashback inconsistencies.
I’d elected not to tell Alex and Emil about the continuing flashbacks because I didn’t need to give those two another thing to get their boxers in a twist about. I wanted to figure out what stimulated the flashbacks on my own first, plus keep a record of them. So, when the flashbacks started happening after the mind Sync, I’d decided to keep track of them in a journal.
I sighed as I walked across the salt covered sidewalks on campus. Sometimes I really wished instead of Evie the Tracker, I could just be Evie the college student. Maybe date some boys who didn’t have supernatural powers or a two hundred and fifty year vendetta against each other.
I had to wonder if my previous lives—when I hadn’t known about the Amaranthine and Daevos, and Alex and Emil—had been better. Was ignorance really bliss, or was I better off now because I knew the truth—or, at least some of it. I lost track of time as I contemplated, and soon I arrived at my psych class.
I walked into the room and sat next to Vicki, a girl I’d done a team project with last week. She had fiery red hair that made her hazel eyes pop and a contagious smile, though today she seemed a little…off. “Morning, Vicki,” I said, taking my notebook and pencil out of my bag.
She stopped flipping through her notes to flash me a frazzled smile. “Hey! Are you ready for the test?”
“As ready as I can be,” I answered.
Doing a pretty good imitation of Hermione Granger, she breathed out a deep sigh. “I’m so nervous! You know this test is twenty percent of our grade?”
I did know that, and didn’t welcome the reminder. “You’ll do great,” I assured her.
“Of course she will,” a voice from behind me said. “She’s the smartest person in class.”
I turned to see Hutch slide into his desk. He was a little taller than me with the lean muscles of a runner. His dark brown hair was spiked in the front, and his dimples offset the rough edges of his masculine frame. He was also a nice person—something most hot guys who know they’re hot lack.
Vicki blushed. It was clear she had a bit of a crush on Hutch. He smiled at her as he took his textbook out of his bag. “Are you both ready for the test?”
Vicki pulled her eyes away from Hutch, glancing back at her notebook. “I’d be happier if I had a few more hours to review my notes.”
Hutch looked up at me, his hair frozen in place by hairspray, gel, or a combination of them both. I shrugged. “Nope. But I’ve reconciled myself with the fact, and accept it.”
Hutch laughed.
Our professor came in the room and everyone quieted as she handed test sheets to the first desk of each row, instructing us to take one and pass the tests back. I took my test—a combination of multiple choice, short answer, and essay questions—and gave Vicki a reassuring smile from across the aisle. I liked short answer and essay questions. They didn’t have black and white answers, and allowed me ample room for BS.
Almost two hours later, I was finally done. I thought I’d done okay, but knew I wouldn’t be getting an “A” either. I gathered my things, stuffing them in my bag as I heard a sigh from my right. Vicki seemed to be debating whether she should look over her answers again, or just hand it in. She inched forward in her chair as she continued analyzing her test. I watched her with interest, wondering if she knew how close to the edge of her seat she was getting. Her next scoot almost scooted her right onto the floor, but she caught herself and stood, taking the test to the front of the class. She grabbed her stuff and we walked out together.
“That was rough,” she said, the door shutting behind us.
“Yeah, the multiple choice questions were brutal, and I wasn’t expecting the essay question on the Ego and Id. I hope I did okay.”
Vicki groaned. “Me too.”
The door snicked open as Hutch walked out. “How’d you do?” I asked.
He blew out a breath, shifting his backpack so more of the weight was on his shoulders. “I hate essays.”
“I hate tests,” Vicki said.
“You guys want to get some lunch?” Hutch asked.
I saw a hopeful glimmer in Vicki’s eyes. Her nervous excitement made me happy. My own relationships had rocketed far past nervous excitement and straight into complicated confusion. I envied Vicki, Hutch, and everyone else on the planet who could be in love without the consequences I had hanging over my head. My romantic choices could have cosmic ramifications.
Alex and Emil had been in my life for centuries, but I couldn’t remember everything that had happened in our past together. I still felt like I didn’t know them well enough—or have enough information about our history together—to make such a monumental life and relationship decision between them. On top of that, Alex and Emil had both protected me all that time in their own ways. After the incident with Caleb’s Clan, I’d decided the least I could do was wait to make a decision between them until I was sure of my feelings. It was the only answer that would be fair to Alex, Emil…and me. If I chose one of them now, I would always second guess myself and wonder if I was with the right person. I wasn’t ready to choose yet.
I looked at Vicki and Hutch. Lunch sounded better than sitting somewhere alone, stewing over my relationship status. “Sure! I think today’s special is manicotti, and it actually tastes good.”
Vicki’s smile brightened and we left for the College Center.
The College Center, decorated in neutral, soothing colors reminiscent of the mountains in summer, was busy with students eating, talking, and studying. I grabbed water and a salad from the deli—the healthy choice—and watched as Hutch got the manicotti I’d told them about. I looked at it longingly, feeling like I’d made the wrong food choice. I hate when that happens. I grimaced, thinking that if I couldn’t decide what to have for lunch, how would I ever make decisions about the bigger choices in my life?
We sat at a table near the windows on the second floor of the College Center. I put my bag on the chair next to me, rifling through it for my hand-sanitizer.
“So, what did you write for the essay?” Hutch asked as I fought with the plastic top of my salad container to get it open. Someone should make a tool for that. I always feel like I need to carry scissors to excavate my lettuce.
The conversation quickly moved back to the test as we compared our answers. I was pretty sure Vicki had never received anything less than an “A” in her life, and was about to say so when I heard a loud, angry voice behind me, “Evangeline Starling…what a surprise to see you here.” The sentence was punctuated with a loud pop of bubble gum.
I turned slowly, seeing Jasmine’s angry expression and Zach standing behind her with a wary look. Her milk chocolate skin was flushed bright red like she was either really hot, or she’d been outside in the cold too long. “Since you rarely talk to me, or even answer my texts anymore, I assumed you were so busy you didn’t have time for friends.” She slowly pegged each person at the table with a hard stare and they shrank back. “But that’s not the case, is it? You have plenty of time for friends. You just don’t have time for me. Your former best friend.”
I shook my head and closed my eyes, wondering how to diffuse the situation. “That’s not it, Jas. I’ve just been really busy.”
She huffed so hard it looked like she was getting ready to breathe fire. “It used to be that when you had free time, you ca
lled to spend it with me. Now I’ve been replaced by random people you met in class a few weeks ago?” she said, gesturing to Vicki and Hutch. “It’s nice to know where I stand on your list of priorities, Evie. I don’t know what your problem is, and I’m sure it has something to do with Alex and Emil, but since you aren’t talking to me about anything, I don’t have a clue. When you figure out that you really do need your best friend, let me know. Maybe I’ll still be around.”
Jasmine threw her tray down on the table, angry tears gathering in her eyes as she stomped off toward Zach. As she grabbed onto him, she staggered. I started to stand, worried. Her flushed face, combined with what seemed to be vertigo, made me think something was wrong, but I had a feeling it was a reaction to her emotions. I wasn’t feeling great about the altercation either. Zach put his arm around her, trying to console her as they walked off. He looked back over his shoulder at me, shaking his head in disappointment.
When I turned back, everyone at the table, and in the lunch room, was staring at me. “Are you okay?” Vicki asked, putting her hand on my back between my shoulders.
I took a deep, calming breath. “Yeah,” I answered. “I should probably go.” I gathered the remains of my lunch on the tray, and put the water bottle in my backpack. “Thanks for asking me to lunch,” I said, not knowing what else to add. The situation was awkward enough. They muttered their good-byes as I walked off.
I threw my trash away, sliding the tray on top of others on the shelf above the trash can. I was shaking with emotion. I felt guilty, upset, and sick to my stomach. I hated knowing that my best friend was mad at me. But I couldn’t talk to her, either. I needed to figure out a way to fix this.
Eternal Echoes, Emblem of Eternity Trilogy Book 2 Page 2