Eternal Echoes, Emblem of Eternity Trilogy Book 2

by Angela Corbett

  I stared at him, working through the information. “Well, that could be a good thing, right? It could mean my soul was born with my Cassandra incarnation.”

  He nodded once in concession. “Could. Or, it could mean there’s a reason they’re not available.”

  I knew where he was going with that. Like someone took the records, or destroyed them. “I don’t like the conclusions people will jump to when they find out about that. And by people, I mean Tate.”

  “Yeah, me either. So I brought these.” He nodded at the books.

  “What are they?”

  “Homework. Thousands of years of Amaranthine and Daevos history. Since Callista has only been missing for five hundred, we can start with that.”

  My mouth fell open. I thought research papers were bad. This was way worse. I looked from the books to Alex. “I can think of better ways to spend our time.”

  His lips lifted slightly. “I’m sure they’d be far more entertaining, but for now let’s concentrate on the goal.”

  “Which is?”

  “Keeping you alive.”

  …Whoever I was.

  I poured over the books for hours. There was far more material than I could get through in a week, or even a month. But I did find some interesting things. According to the book, a Fallen Goddess wouldn’t have as much power as the Amaranthine Goddesses, which coincided with what I knew about Callista. But Callista had enough power to create the Daevos. Now Clans were figuring out how to create additional power on their own, using Trackers like me. Maybe Callista knew about the power channeling abilities Trackers held long before the Daevos Clans figured it out.

  The other thing I found—and by far the most interesting—was the legend of Super Trackers—my nickname, not theirs. From what I could tell, these were Trackers of immeasurable power. Of all the leads surrounding what, or who, I might truly be, this one seemed to make the most sense. Unfortunately, there was no other information given about them. They were literally listed in a book as Advanced Trinity Trackers: Trackers of immeasurable power. That was it—one sentence. I’d keep looking for more details. For now though, I felt better about my chances of not being Callista. I hoped Alex, Emil, and Tate agreed.

  I’d been staring at the books so long, my eyes had started to blur. “I need a break. Do you want something to eat?”

  Alex looked up. “Sure.”

  I went to the kitchen and took some spaghetti and sauce from the cabinet, but the glass bottle slipped from my hands and dropped to the ground. Crap. I bent down to clean up the mess, slicing my hand on the glass. Blood welled on the wound and I grabbed a towel to press against the cut as I started to fall into a memory.

  The argument was out of control. Men were yelling, taunting. Ladies stood by helpless, watching the altercation. Other men were trying to break it up; it was hard to tell who was who. In the turmoil, I recognized one of the men. The Duke of Blackwood, Emil Stone. I’d met him recently, and had been drawn to him ever since. I watched as he was pushed from the crowd and staggered into the gardens. I looked around me, checking to see if I was being watched. The chaos of the fight provided ample opportunity to leave without notice. I moved through the gardens, the scent of flowers perfuming the air. I found him on a stone bench, next to a display of hundreds of beautiful greyish purple rose bushes. A small fountain bubbled next to us, the noise peaceful in comparison to the brawl we’d abandoned.

  My eyes traveled over him as I sat, assessing him for injury. I paused at his lap, noticing a gash on his knuckles. “You have blood on your hands.”

  He met my eyes. “Yes. I do.”

  Abruptly, he turned away.

  I wetted a handkerchief with water from the fountain and took Emil’s hand. Something sparked between us and I gasped, eyes wide. Emil shared my expression. I looked down quickly, concentrating on my task. I gently brushed the crimson stain away until the wound was clean.

  “I’d hoped to impress you with my wit at our next meeting,” he said.

  My lips lifted in a soft smile as I placed my hands back in my own lap. “You impressed me with your fists instead.”

  He grinned. “Well, let us hope the next time involves less fighting—assuming there will be a next time?”

  I smiled coyly. “I imagine that is likely inevitable.”

  He grinned again and reached behind me, plucking one of the pretty greyish purple roses from the bush behind us. He stripped it of leaves and thorns. “Thank you,” he said. He reached up and lightly pushed my hair away from my face, his fingertips grazing my cheek. He tucked the rose behind my ear as my heart raced.

  “Until we meet again, beautiful Cass.”

  I came out of the flashback to Alex’s voice. “Evie?” he said, running into the kitchen. “What happened?” He took in the room quickly, looking for potential threats with military precision. He saw the bright red sauce splattered across the light colored floor and white kitchen cabinets. He shifted his examination to me. “Are you okay?”

  I held onto the countertop as I stood and took a deep breath. “Yeah.” I walked into the bathroom, washed the cut off, and then covered it with a Band-Aid.

  “What happened?” Alex asked, his lips turned down in concern.

  I shook my head and bent down to start cleaning up the mess. “Nothing. I just had another flashback.” I pushed him out of the way so he wouldn’t be in my cleaning path.

  Alex sat at the dining room table and watched me, concerned. “Another? How often does this happen?”

  I’d told him about the flashback I had when I first touched him, then Emil. But I hadn’t mentioned the flashbacks since. The overbearing look on his face told me he was about to start telling me what to do. I had visions of Alex trying to revoke my driving privileges for fear of me having a flashback behind the wheel. That would cause another fight. I shrugged. “Often enough.”

  Alex seemed annoyed. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  I picked up all the glass and threw it in the trash, then got some paper towels and started cleaning up the marinara. “Why would I? They’re my memories. It’s not something I need to keep you updated about.”

  “They could help us figure out what you are!”

  “If I had any flashbacks I thought would help in that department, I would have told you. So far, it’s only been flashbacks to my life as Cassandra.”

  He stared at me, assessing. “What was the one you just had?”

  All the sauce was off the floor now, so I got more paper towels, water, and cleaner to finish the job. “It wasn’t about you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Who was it about?”

  I looked up at him from the floor, my hair swinging around my face. “They’re my flashbacks, so it stands to reason they’re about me.”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Only you?”

  I really didn’t want to tell him I’d just had a flashback about Emil. “That’s none of your business.”

  I could see his jaw working. That never meant anything good. “If it was about me, you’d tell me. So you had a flashback about Stone. How many of your memories have starred him?”

  He’d called Emil “Stone.” Also not a good sign. “It’s not a contest, Alex.”

  Judging by his narrowed eyes and determined expression, he seemed to think it was. “How. Many?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t keep a running tally.”

  “You should. When was the last time you had one about me, Evie?”

  I thought about it for a minute. “In the barn, on our Valentine’s Day date.”

  His eyebrow lifted slightly, interested. “What was it?”

  “You and I were racing horses. We were young. It was at your estate, and your mom was there.”

  Several emotions crossed his face all at once. “That was the only flashback you had that day?”

  I nodded.

  A muscle by his eye started to tic. “What was the flashback you just had about Emil?”

  I breathed out a deep sigh. �
�It’s not important, Alex.”

  “It is to me.”

  “I’m not doing this.”

  “Not doing what?”

  “Getting in the middle of another pissing contest between you and Emil over something that doesn’t matter. They’re my flashbacks. My memories. How many I have, and who they involve is none of your business.”

  “Yes,” he said, teeth clenched, “it is.”

  I held my hands out, palms up. “Why?”

  “Because your flashbacks are helping you determine who you want to spend eternity with.”

  “They’re not the only thing I’m taking into account, Alex. They’re just another tool to get information.”

  “I want to know what they are and have the chance to explain my side.”

  I raised a brow. “Are there a lot of things that need explaining?”

  He pursed his lips.

  “If there’s something I have questions about, I’ll ask.”

  “Have you told Stone about them?”

  “That I’ve been having flashbacks?” I asked. “Yeah. He knows.”

  “Have you told him what you’ve seen?”

  “Not recently,” I said, adding, “and he respects my decision.”

  Alex gave a humorless laugh. “Of course he does. Because Emil can do no wrong.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  I got up so we were closer to eye-level with each other. “Stop getting so territorial and upset. If it wasn’t for Emil sending me to the Amaranthine for protection two hundred and fifty years ago, there’s a pretty good—almost certain in fact—possibility that I wouldn’t even be alive. You should thank him instead of berate him.”

  He glared at me. “You may be right, but that doesn’t mean I like him any more than I did before, or that I ever will. There’s a part of you kept only for him that I’ll never have.”

  I was seething. “There are many parts of me you’ll never have. You don’t own me. How many times do I need to remind you of that? You have a place in my life and my heart, but so do a lot of people, including Emil. Don’t assume you’re all there is, and don’t ever ask me to give up someone who means a lot to me. If you do, it’s the quickest way to lose me.”

  For the first time ever, Alex seemed speechless. I took advantage of the silence. “Listen, Alexander, if you really want me to be with you, you need to stop trying to tell me what to do. You think you’re protecting me. You’re not. Instead, you’re trying to control me and make me second guess my choices. I’m a smart woman and I trust myself. Our relationship won’t get to the point you want it to unless you learn to trust me, too.

  “You constantly manipulate our relationship by making decisions that affect both of us without consulting me. We can either make choices together, or I won’t be with you.” I was so angry, I could hardly contain myself. I knew what I wanted to say and knew just as certainly it would send Alex over the edge, but I had to be true to myself. “If this is how you acted the first time I had to decide between you and Emil, no wonder I chose him.”

  I knew Alex would be mad, but I wasn’t prepared for him to shatter the chair he’d been sitting on with his bare hands. Afterward, he stood, strangely calm for a full minute, the blood rushing to his face. He crossed the room in two long strides. He leaned over me, muscles rippling, his imposing frame a heavy shadow over mine, and simply said, “We will discuss this. Later.” Then he walked out the door.

  I decided to watch a movie to get my mind off Alex’s stage five pissy fit. I was on my second hot chocolate, and halfway through the movie, when I heard a familiar knock. Emil smiled as I opened the door. “Hey, beautiful.”

  I smiled back at the compliment, and because I was happy to see a face that wasn’t annoyed with me eighty percent of the time.

  Emil came in the house. He saw the paused movie and snacks on the table before noticing the chair remnants in the dining area. “What happened here?”

  “Temper tantrum.”

  “Yours?”

  “Do I look like I could break that chair?”

  “You have been taking karate.”

  “We haven’t covered chair chopping yet.”

  He grinned. “Alex, then?” I nodded. “What was he mad about?”

  “What isn’t he mad about?”

  “Good point.”

  I thought I better give him some background, though, in case Alex took it out on Emil the next time they saw each other. “I had a flashback while he was here. It wasn’t a flashback about him. He got pissed.”

  “Ah.”

  “He’ll probably be pissed at you by proxy. Just a warning.”

  Emil smiled. “Thanks.”

  I noted that Emil didn’t press me for details about my flashback, even though I’d implied he was the memory’s star.

  He disappeared into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” he asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  He came back holding a can of Pepsi. “Where’s Tate?” he asked, looking around. “He was supposed to be with you until I came back.”

  “World of Warcraft tournament on campus.”

  Emil rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t have made a very good protector.”

  “I doubt he’s very motivated. He’s convinced I’m Callista. He thinks people need protecting from me, not the other way around.” I shifted the topic. “What did you do today?”

  “I was checking the information Tate gave us about Callista not being seen for over five hundred years.”

  I leaned forward in anticipation. “And?”

  Emil put his can down on the coffee table. “Tate was right.”

  I blew out a breath, discouraged.

  “It doesn’t mean you’re Callista, Evie. We’re still looking at options. We’ll keep looking until we figure it out.”

  I nodded, staring out the window but seeing nothing as I absently drank my hot chocolate.

  Emil’s phone buzzed. He got a worried look on his face. “What is it?” I asked.

  “Alex. He says there’s a problem. I need to go to his house.”

  I nodded, slipping my shoes on and grabbing my coat.

  “Are you coming with?”

  Considering how Alex and I had left things earlier this afternoon, I wasn’t sure I should, but I wasn’t being left out of yet another conversation. “Yep.”

  Emil nodded once in acknowledgment. “Okay. You might want to bring a stun gun, just in case.”

  I widened my eyes. “Would that work on him?”

  Emil laughed as we walked out the door.

  Alex’s text to Emil had said to meet him in the den. I followed Emil inside. Alex was standing by his sideboard. He nodded to Emil, but froze for a few seconds when he saw me.

  “Evie,” Alex said, his voice low.

  “Hey, Thor.” I said back, noticing we weren’t alone. “I hope you’ve been shopping for my replacement chair.”

  I could practically see Alex’s blood pressure rising.

  “Hey, Simon,” I said. “Nice to see you again.”

  He nodded. “You too.”

  Tate was also there. “Did you lose your WoW tournament?” I asked.

  “No,” Tate said, a little annoyed. “I got a text from Alex, so I had to leave.”

  Huh. Everyone had gotten a text but me. I hoped that was because Alex was still fuming at me for the flashbacks I couldn’t control, not because he was leaving me out of the loop again.

  “What’s going on?” Emil asked. “Your text seemed urgent.”

  Alex motioned for us to sit down. Emil and I both sat across from Simon on one of Alex’s ridiculously elegant leather couches. “Simon wanted to talk to us.” The way he said “us” gave me the distinct impression I hadn’t been invited.

  Emil turned to Simon. “Is something wrong? Is there another situation with the Rebels?”

  Simon pushed his hands down his thighs like he was uncomfortable. “Well, something weird has been happening. A
few things, actually. Have you noticed more Daevos members than usual in Colorado lately? Specifically Gunnison?”

  We all took a minute to think about it.

  “Now that you mention it,” Alex said, “yeah.”

  I thought about Caleb’s Clan, and then Robert, Brian, and Hannah. Robert had said they felt pulled here for some reason.

  “Do you know anything about it, Emil?” Simon asked. “Have more Daevos Clans been assigned to the area?”

  Emil shook his head. “Not that I know of. But a Clan went missing in the area about five months ago. The Daevos said they might investigate, so I assumed the increase in Daevos was a result of that.”

  Simon nodded and stood. “Well, I guess that answers one question, but not the biggest one.”

  “What do you mean?” Alex asked.

  Simon shook his head, his hands folded across his chest as he walked over to get a drink from Alex’s sideboard. “For the last couple of months when we’ve taken Daevos souls, the souls’ memories have disappeared instead of being destroyed.”

  Alex and Emil shared a glance. Both of them seemed concerned. I remembered when they’d taken the souls of Caleb’s Clan in the cave. The same thing had happened. The memories had vanished instead of exploding into dust. “Like Caleb’s Clan,” I said, realizing too late Simon might not know about that situation.

  “Yeah,” Alex answered, his hands clenched into fists as if aching to hit something, “like Caleb’s Clan.”

  Simon continued on like he knew what had happened with Caleb. I wondered if Alex had told him, or if he’d heard it through the cosmic grapevine like everyone else. “We’ve asked the Amaranthine about it,” Simon said, taking a drink, “but they don’t have answers either. No one knows why it’s happening.”

  “That’s a problem,” Alex said.

  Simon nodded as he sat back down. “And that’s not all.”

  We all stared at him, expectantly.

  “We’ve started to notice a pattern in areas where Trackers are missing.”

  They had? I’d asked Alex if anyone was looking for correlations with the Trackers. I was glad Simon had been.

  “Soon after a Tracker is taken in an area, people in the area have started to get sick.”