Memory of an Immortal Heart (Immortal Hearts)

by Kita Bell

  “Oh. Okay.” Eva gave a jerky nod, and, after consideration, set the shirt aside on the floor. She probably shouldn’t touch it any more than necessary. No matter how much she wanted to feel the comfort of Rainey’s scent beside her.

  “Seth said he keeps a database of Kaspian who have gone missing…” Eva began, raising her eyes – then cut off, realizing that Brand was on the phone again. He raised a finger and nodded, as Eva heard the other end pick up.

  “Joshua, we’re going to put Kevin to work. Has the Turner Resh made any moves?”

  Joshua made a sound of disgust on the other side of the line. “You scared him, cousin,” Joshua said. “I’m not sure he will move from the house so long as he thinks you’re here.”

  Brand grimaced, and gave Eva a long look. “I lost my temper.”

  “If you’d lost your temper, he’d be dead, and I’d be gnawing his bones.”

  “I highly doubt that,” Brand said dryly as Eva felt her eyes widen. “I want you and Kevin back here a.s.a.p. Tell the cub we’re going to see if he can track a two week old trail.”

  “Delightful,” Joshua’s voice indicated otherwise. “How is your amati?”

  Brand’s gaze latched on Eva. “She’s here.”

  There was a long silence, as if Joshua were rethinking his words. Then, finally, “Good. We’ll be there in five minutes.” The phone clicked, and Eva heard the line go dead.

  Tension filled the room.

  “Does he really gnaw…”

  “No.”

  A pause.

  “We’re not amati anymore,” Eva finally said, her voice soft as she met Brand’s gaze. The two of them were done. What they had was over. She raised her fingers, brushed them over the bruise he had left in her flesh. “You didn’t tell Joshua?”

  The sapphire of Brand’s eyes shadowed as he glanced away, pushing a button on his phone before slipping it into his pocket. His gaze rose to Eva.

  “I don’t think it’s as easy as that,” he said quietly.

  Then he rose and went outside. Eva heard the old screen door to the house give a rattling squeal as Brand left her by herself.

  She wasn’t sure whether to be shocked, angry, or…hopeful.

  And why did she suddenly feel so sad?

  Brand sat on the chill front steps to Eva’s house and studied the small bone dagger his mother had given him. It was a dull black, black as only Kaspian bones could be, and dense.

  It was old, of course.

  Almost four hundred years old. As old as his father’s death.

  Eva thought they weren’t amati anymore. But Brand hadn’t told her the real meaning of the word. Nor had he told her the truth.

  Still, when Eva had spoken those words to him, they had sent a jolt through his gut, tearing through him in the same way this blade would have done.

  It had fucking hurt. And, though Eva didn’t know it, it was fucking…possible.

  They hadn’t bonded yet. Nothing held them together except…a hope. His hope. And desire.

  Eva would always be his amati, and yet they shared no bond.

  His mother had told Brand to carry this blade with him always. He had stopped a few years ago, afraid he would lose it, but Ashtoreth kept insisting. Hell if he knew why. Perhaps, Brand thought, measuring the short blade against his palm, he should give it to Eva. It was better sized for her hand anyway.

  She probably wouldn’t take it if she knew what it was.

  Not even death had been able to sever his parents’ bond. His father had died fighting the Sakai, and instead of dying in turn – as any other bonded amati would have done – his mother had simply…disappeared. Then, ten years after Nikandros’s death, Ashtoreth returned to their Gens home in France in the dead of night – the same home his father had died fighting for – and passed Brand and his brothers a long rolled-up canvas.

  “These are your father’s bones,” she said. “He wants you to have them. Promise you will care for them, always keep them by your side. Treasure them…as I do.” Then Ashtoreth gave a fey unsettling smile, rose up, pressed a polite kiss to Khael’s cheek, touched Gaviros’s outstretched hand, and disappeared back into her rooms as if she had never gone.

  When they unrolled the canvas and found the blades, Khael growled, “We each take one.”

  It was not a scene Brand could forget. His brothers gathered around the blades made from their father’s bones, taking turns according to their age. The lamp had cast the drawing table into a golden light, setting the room alive with shadows and history…until Brand, the youngest, took the last blade. Brand had gripped it in his fist: his dagger had come from one of Nikandros’s ribs. Their mother had made five blades, one for each of her mate’s living sons.

  Then he had heard something – felt more than heard – and looked up to follow Khael’s dark gaze; they watched Nikandria run like a startled deer from where she had hidden behind the curtains, disappearing into the shadows of the hall. She was a child, barely eleven. Iah had gone after her, tried to give her his own blade, but she refused. “She didn’t want me to have one,” Nikandrie said.

  Brand still remembered her childish voice, full of pain and tears and fierce dignity. “Ashtoreth didn’t make one for me because she didn’t want me to have one.”

  There hadn’t been anything any of them could say to that. With her ability, Nikandrie knew.

  Brand’s lips compressed, warped downward. He gripped the dagger in his fist.

  Their mother had always been strange about bones. Strange, possessive and wary about who she trusted with them. But Brand knew Ashtoreth’s denial of her daughter wasn’t mistrust. No. It was something different.

  When they came to the New World, Ashtoreth had insisted he and his brothers gather the family bones and seal them into chests for the voyage. There had been no bones for Ashtoreth’s line, no bones for Nikandros’s. Just the dull black bones of a handful of brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews and other Kaspians Brand had never known.

  And the remainder of his father’s bones.

  Ashtoreth had guarded those bones throughout the journey. She guarded them as fiercely as if she guarded a still-living amati. She still guarded them, today. His mother might be insane, but she was also powerful and dangerous. Any other Kaspian would have died with their amati. And though Ashtoreth lived, not even death had been enough to sever the bond she felt to Nikandros.

  Something shifted in front of Brand.

  He looked up. His cousin stood before him, studying the bone dagger lying in Brand’s fist. “I know what that is,” Joshua said, after a moment, the cold breeze stirring his sandy hair. His gray eyes were distant. “Dmitrei showed me once. He wanted to teach me to make them.”

  Brand shrugged, then slid the dagger back into its sheath beneath his coat. “Dmitrei has too many blades. Sometimes I think he is as mad as our mother.” His gaze slid to Kevin, who stood behind Joshua, watching with a curious expression. “Eva has one of Rainey’s shirts in the house. The trail will be two weeks old, but…”

  “Here,” Eva interrupted from behind Brand, and he wasn’t really surprised that she had been watching him. The screen door slid open and Eva stepped forward, extending the shirt for Kevin to take. “If you…if you can find a way to track my sister, I would really,” he heard her swallow, “appreciated it.”

  Kevin took the shirt in his hands and stared at it with a doubtful expression. Brand knew the reason; the shirt was a two-week old mess of scents, half-obscured by dried mud and fresh air. But Brand nodded in approval when the kid promised to try, then watched as Kevin and Joshua moved off into the trees.

  “What was that?” Eva said finally, coming to stand behind him, her scent pooling desire itself as she looked over his shoulder. “That you were looking at?”

  Brand hesitated, then shrugged as he stared out into the stark winter trees. “My father’s blade.”

  Chapter 13

  Eva held onto her nerves as she found a package of dry pasta in the back c
orner of the old kitchen cupboard, then ripped it opened and tossed the contents into the boiling water on the stove. All of the food in the refrigerator had been rotten. She hadn’t been thinking about that when she directed Brand to look for the cheese.

  Brand had opened the refrigerator door, then slammed it shut as the sickening miasma of rotten food rose to fill the kitchen. Eva had gagged reflexively before turning to stare at him as she pinched her nose.

  Brand’s face had been pale and he looked, for a moment, as if he were about to vomit.

  Despite the situation, Eva choked on a laugh as she cautiously dropped her hand. “What? I thought you were a brave, fierce warrior. The Ayin of Stronghold. Surely you’ve smelled worse.”

  Brand gave her a long look. “You’re just lucky I’m not Khael,” he finally growled.

  They both decided by silent agreement not to open the refrigerator again.

  “Where do you keep the plates?” Brand asked now, and Eva turned away from the stove, slipping around him before she pulled out the stack from the cupboard and passed them to him. She avoided Brand’s gaze, doing her best not to focus on the heat of his body as he studied her.

  Brand was being quiet. Unaccountably quiet. And the consideration in his gaze when he looked at her… It made it hard to concentrate. Eva risked a look up at him, met that dark blue gaze, and quickly moved away across the room toward the silverware drawer.

  “Rainey usually does the cooking,” she said finally, as he set the plates. Two for them, two for Joshua and Kevin. She dropped the silverware down in the middle of the table, not bothering with organization, but Brand picked the pieces up and started to lay them out.

  Eva frowned, wanting to step forward, to run her fingers through that dark hair and feel the comfort as she pressed up against his body. Or to mess with his organization of the silverware. Then she turned away before he could catch her looking, and nervously picked up the bag of potato chips she had been munching on. “My sister makes a mean lasagna. Her noodles and sauce are all from scratch. All I can do is box pasta.”

  Brand’s gaze slanted to the bag she clutched, and he gave a faint smile as he finished placing the silverware. “Box pasta and potato chips.”

  “A good combination,” Eva said softly, and felt an awareness open up between them.

  He wants to kiss me right now, she realized. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did.

  Then Joshua and Kevin came in, rattling the outer door, and Eva spun away and out of the kitchen to show them where to wash.

  Supper was uncomfortable.

  Kevin kept avoiding her gaze and giving her guilty looks; Joshua ate the overcooked and meatless spaghetti with a pained expression. Brand sat across from Eva, occasionally fixing a stern glance on the other two…even as Eva felt the restless need to make conversation just to somehow break the silence.

  But she didn’t have anything to talk about.

  Except Rainey.

  And if she spoke Rainey’s name…if she spoke Rainey’s name, all of her hope might come tumbling out and she might start crying again. But she couldn’t not ask.

  Eva’s hand shook as she spooned sauce onto the gelatinous lump of spaghetti on her plate. She didn’t want to eat it. “Did you…” she cleared her throat, glanced at Joshua since she couldn’t bring herself to look at Kevin, “did you have any luck?”

  “I’m sorry,” Kevin said heavily, staring at the table. “I thought I caught her scent trail, but...I’m sorry. I’ll try again after supper.” Eva gripped her fork so tightly she felt it bend. Supper? She wanted to tell him to not bother eating, that she’d go out there with him, feed him on the trail and hold the flashlight for him if that was what it took.

  “Tomorrow. You’ll try tomorrow. You did well,” Brand said bluntly to Kevin, then spooned some of the canned beans Eva had found onto his spaghetti and swirled the unappealing mixture around with his fork, “The trail’s two weeks old, and it snowed. You did the best you could. But we’re all going to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Khael would have found her,” Kevin said, resignation stamped across his face. Eva swallowed, trying to control her rising tension.

  “Khael is Khael,” Brand said inexplicably, and for the three from Stronghold, that seemed to end the debate.

  Eva found herself caught in the odd position of wanting to comfort Kevin…and to scream at him.

  “She left the computer,” Eva finally said, twisting her fork so that the tines scratched the ceramic plate, then dropped it back down. She stared at the unappetizing food. “Which is probably why she didn’t get my emails. We bought it off of Natalie. Rainey is addicted to that computer. And she left her movies. Rainey loves Casablanca, probably watches it at least once a month, can quote every line. I don’t know why she would ever –”

  “Eva.” Brand’s dark blue eyes found hers. It seemed like he was going to reach across the small table, take her hand, and Eva froze. She closed her eyes, bracing herself, because she both desperately wanted that touch…and knew she shouldn’t need it at all.

  She shouldn’t need anything.

  Except her body had stopped listening to her.

  The chair across from her creaked as Brand shifted forward, and Eva held incredibly still, sucking the air into her lungs…a phone rang.

  She jumped, hissing. Her eyes flew open. Joshua was staring at the wall and chewing his food, Kevin was staring at his plate red-faced, and Brand had stood to pull the phone from his pocket.

  Eva felt her face go as red as Kevin’s. She bit her lip. Stupid. So stupid. Her gaze snapped up again as Brand said Seth’s name.

  Seth was speaking in some language – some other, old-sounding language – and Eva snarled softly, fixing her gaze on Brand as she desperately tried to make sense out of the words. Or read his expression.

  Because she knew this was about Rainey.

  Brand’s gaze latched to hers. “What is he saying?” Eva demanded, and he raised his hand to quiet her, even as Joshua made a shushing noise.

  Brand’s brow creased. His lips tilted downwards. His jaw tightened as the dark sapphire in his eyes sparked with gold.

  A sinking sensation began to well from the pit of Eva’s stomach.

  Then Eva thought – oh god, despite the language they were speaking, she could swear she heard the name… It hit her like a blow to the chest. The table creaked loudly and Eva realized she had stood to grip the edge. She leaned forward.

  “Brand.” Her voice was low and choked.

  Brand gave a sharp nod, thanked Seth, and closed the phone with a snap. His eyes latched to Eva’s.

  Eva tried to speak, couldn’t. She shook her head. “Brand. Tell me. Seth didn’t just say…”

  “Seth found a lead from Rainey’s photo.” Brand’s eyes held Eva’s, communicating something she didn’t want to hear, but – deep inside – already knew. “Rainey was snatched in town, Eva. One of Seth’s people sorted through, caught it on a traffic camera.” As Eva’s breath rushed out in a soundless, voiceless cry, Brand moved around the table toward her. “The plates for the van that took her? They’re Vermont plates, Eva. They’re…”

  “They’re Rohe’s,” Eva whispered. Her mouth was dry. She felt sick.

  Rohe.

  It hit her – Rainey. Rainey had been kidnapped by Rohe…her baby sister had been kidnapped by a monster – Eva slammed her palms against the kitchen table, putting all of her suppressed fear, her fury, into that gesture. The wood fractured, splintering with a crackling groan as plates, dishes, silverware, pasta, potato chips and wood jumped into the air before falling as the table caved down the middle, falling to the floor as Brand snatched Eva back into his arms.

  “No!” No, no, no…

  Eva tried to hit Brand, tried to deny what he had told her. She needed to get away, she needed to move…she needed to Change, to do something…she needed Rainey…but Brand had his arms wrapped around her, keeping her hands at her sides, keeping her contained…and finally, the
damn on her emotions burst as the fury and terror, dismay and horror caught up with Eva, overwhelmed her.

  She blacked out.

  Eva couldn’t sleep. Rohe kept coming for her.

  Every time Eva closed her eyes, she saw the cell, the table again. The warmth in Rohe’s face as she licked the blood from the surgical steel blade. Smelled her own blood coursing down her arms as it went from a steady stream to a pat pat pat into the vial Rohe held beneath her limp, exhausted fingertips. Smelled the stench of her own sweat and fear as it filled the air of the room, while Rohe inhaled that scent as if it were flowers or perfume.

  Her blood had been warm, the room cold.

  So cold. Colder than the water Rohe’s guards hosed her off with. Colder than the steel of the table. Colder than the cell, even.

  “No,” Eva whispered, and ripped up the thick quilts from the corners of her bed, pulling them tighter about herself, bunching them together as she tried to retain some warmth. The moonlight sifted through the window above her bed, washing her room into shades of gray and black, so that the shadows seemed too dark. Too deep. Eva shuddered, smelling her own fear and sweat in the blanket, and half-buried herself beneath the covers. Her eyes felt dry and swollen.

  I’m going with you, Eva had told Brand after she came to. I’m going with you to get my sister.

  Because she hadn’t needed to ask if he and Joshua and Kevin would be going to Vermont for Rainey. That was something Brand would do anyway. Not just for her. No, Brand would be going because…that was who Brand was. His hands had smoothed over her shoulders and she could see the reluctance on his face.

  Rainey needs me, she insisted. She won’t know you. She won’t trust you. She needs me. Finally, he had agreed.

  But Eva didn’t want to go. The whole idea of returning to Rohe’s Asylum terrified her.

  Because…what if she didn’t escape this time?

  Or worse, what if…what if she got inside, then learned that everything that had happened since her escape had simply been a dream? That she had never – truly – left?