Ricochet Through Time (Echo Trilogy Book 3)
Page 4
“Or we could just run,” I suggested. I looked at Marcus. “You’ve got a helicopter. Let’s fly somewhere … get away. If we go now—”
“It won’t do you any good,” Re-Nik said, drawing my attention back to him. “Apep can sense the sheuts your twins carry. Their power calls to him. Wherever they go, he will find you.”
“But—”
“Apep will track you down, and the twins will jump you to a safer time and place,” Re-Nik said, talking over my objection. “It is already written in the timeline, my Alexandra. It is what is.”
“Oh,” I said numbly. “Oh, I see. Well then …” I frowned. “Did you know?” I looked from him to Marcus and back. “Those things you keep saying—‘this is how it starts’ and the like … did you know this would happen?”
“No, Lex,” Marcus said. “I knew—”
“Heru …” Re-Nik’s voice was ripe with warning.
Marcus exhaled heavily, rubbing his hand over his shaved head. “I knew nothing of this—of Apep or Carson or Genevieve.” He stared at Re-Nik, his gaze hard, challenging. “I only knew you would travel through time once more.”
My mouth fell open. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Aset warned me the stress would be unsafe for you and the children so early on in the pregnancy.”
“What about the stress of traveling through freaking time?”
“We only did what had to be done to keep you and the little ones safe,” Re-Nik said. “Your health and comfort have always been our top priority.”
I made an ugly scoffing noise but couldn’t bring myself to actually speak. I was too pissed.
Marcus cleared his throat. “Should we get on with this, then?”
I nodded once, unable to even look at him, the liar.
Re-Nik encased us in a bubble of solidified At, and the three of us made our way up to the conference room on the second floor of the house. By the time I’d finished clearing Neffe, Aset, Carlisle, and my heads of guards, Sandra and Vali, who’d all been waiting for us in the conference room, Dominic had arrived.
Nik shrouded the room in a film of impenetrable At, and the nine of us took our seats around a circular mahogany table, the six virtually present members of the Council of Seven visible on the monitors hanging at even intervals on the walls around the room. Among them were my great-grandfather, Ivan, and my biological father, Set, the latter of which who shared a screen with my grandfather, Alexander. Set and Alexander were currently in Eastern Washington, watching over my family—my parents, sister, and grandma—as they packed up enough of their lives to move here for the duration of my sister’s and my pregnancies.
I glanced over my shoulder at burly Ivan, with his sculpted goatee and diamond-hard eyes. He gave me a somber nod in greeting. Alexander and Set shared the screen on the wall directly opposite Ivan, sitting shoulder to shoulder and looking cozy as could be. I no longer thought of Set as the man he’d been while possessed by Apep; though others still had issues separating Set’s actions from Apep’s, he was, to me, once again, the kindly man he’d been millennia ago, when his body had been his and his alone.
I shifted in my chair, my focus flitting to the open doorway. A thin sheet of At provided us more than enough privacy, though it felt like a flimsy wisp of a barrier to me. It was nothing but a false sense of security. A glorified alarm system. Despite Re’s assurances that the twins’ latent power would kick in the moment they sensed danger, I couldn’t help but feel that once we were alerted to the danger, it would be too late.
“We’ll get through this, Little Ivanov,” Marcus said, his voice barely a whisper. He was seated on my right, Re-Nik on my left. Marcus claimed my hand under the table and gripped it tight. When I tried to jerk my hand free, he held on. “We will get through this.”
I gritted my teeth and managed a tight, close-lipped smile. I still couldn’t bring myself to look into his lying eyes. “Of course we will,” I murmured.
“We all know why this emergency meeting has been called,” Ivan said. “Dominic, if you would begin.”
All eyes shifted to my half-brother, seated on Marcus’s other side, and a breathless hush fell over the room.
“Yes, of course,” Dominic said. “The prisoners told me much, most willingly.” His dark eyes turned to Marcus, then settled on me. “They claim they did not know it would come to this. Both believed the Kin’s false goals of taking down the Council, of establishing a new world order, with a democratic system of Nejeret ruling over humans from the shadows to usher in a modern golden age. Neither was aware of an extremist faction within their ranks.” He paused to meet the eyes of every Nejeret seated around the table, virtual and otherwise. “I believe them.”
His chest rose as he inhaled deeply. “It would seem that Carson witnessed a member of the Kin called Bree—apparently a Nejerette with a sheut, like Nik—free Apep from his prison and welcome him into her body. Carson fled and alerted Gen of what he’d seen, and together the two came straight here to warn us.” Dominic’s eyes honed in on Re-Nik. “You allowed others with sheuts to be born. You did not do a good enough job of policing the timeline.”
“Watch yourself, Dominic,” Ivan cut in. “Do not forget to whom you are speaking.”
“I could never forget,” Dominic said, his voice low and cold. He blinked, then seemed to shake himself out of a trance and once again scanned the faces surrounding the table. “There are more Nejerets with sheuts than just Nik and this Bree, not to mention whoever created the anti-At pocket watch. Gen claims that dozens, if not hundreds, of the Kin’s members have sheuts. Their power sounds slight in comparison to what the Meswett could do with the full Netjer sheut, but their minor sheuts do afford them a variety of special abilities, nonetheless. Somehow”—he shot a quick glare at Re-Nik—“they seem to have found a way to hide themselves from our ever watchful and diligent Great Father.”
“Dominic,” Ivan warned.
A thought struck me, and I sat up straighter. “Can one of them travel through time?”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “How did you know?”
“A time anomaly—that’s how they could be hiding from us. One of the Kin’s members being from another time would conceal them from us for, I don’t know, however long they’ve been building up their army of über-Nejerets. And it would be effortless—no need for cloaking in the echoes or anything like that. The time traveler just needs to be slightly out of time, and they and everything they influence around them won’t show up in the echoes.”
“I am in agreement with Alexandra,” Re-Nik said. “It is the only way they could have remained hidden from me for any amount of time.”
Dominic looked from Re-Nik to me and back. “Their leader, Mei, is supposedly ancient and somehow managed to go undetected until she discovered her ability to travel through time. For whatever reason, she started forming the Kin in utter secrecy hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. Gen and Carson were unsure. As the Kin’s numbers grew, so did Mei’s power. Gen claims Mei had no interest in freeing Apep—”
“Then why hasn’t she gone back in time to stop it from happening?” I asked.
“Unless she can’t,” Re-Nik said. “Because she’s dead …”
I looked at him, eyebrows scrunched together.
“Mei’s body was found only moments after Apep was freed,” Dominic said, confirming Re’s supposition.
I felt sick, and slightly breathless. Just when I’d grown used to my current perception of the world, immortal beings with powers over time and all—godly children and all—the universe had to go and throw a viper into the mix. I was done. I didn’t want to know any more. No more surprises. No more revelations. No more.
“From all that Gen and Carson have told me—we do not know how many people might be working with this Bree or how long it will take Apep to settle into her body.” Dominic looked at me, his dark, deep-set eyes filled with compassion. “Assuming Apep’s goal is unchanged and he will, once again, attemp
t to possess the being currently holding what was once his sheut, we must expect him to come for you, Lex. And as such, we must prepare for the worst—that Apep is only minutes from our gates now, and that his and Bree’s companions are numerous and possess every possible sheut ability imaginable.”
My tongue turned into a cottony thing, so dry it stuck to the roof of my mouth. I wanted to throw up.
“Do not fear, my Alexandra,” Re-Nik said, leaning closer and rubbing my arm in what I supposed was meant to be a comforting gesture. Maybe it would have been if I could still feel. But I was numb, absolutely and completely.
I once had an odd conversation with an anatomy grad student over drinks, something that had stuck with me, though I hadn’t realized it until now. He told me that nature had the kindness of a mother, because when faced with deadly physical trauma, an animal—any animal—will go into shock. Their brain will sort of shut off the part of them that feels afraid, that worries, that thinks about the winter stash of nuts that will go uneaten or the babies that will starve in their absence. When faced with certain death, they go numb, mentally, physically, emotionally. Nature, benevolent mother that she is, provides them at least this comfort in the end.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Mother Nature was reaching out to me now, a preemptive attempt to cloak me in peace before the inevitable.
“Lex.” Marcus squeezed my other arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to shake me from my languid acceptance.
Damn it, I’d never been a quitter. I wasn’t about to start now.
“When the time comes,” Re-Nik said, his expression earnest, “the twins will protect you. They will whisk you off to safety. It is already written into the timeline. You must simply let it happen.”
I drew in a shallow breath, then another. Another. I had a bone to pick with him, Aset, and Marcus, all of whom had lied to me about my supposedly fast-approaching travels through time, but this was neither the time nor the place for that. I shelved my hurt and betrayal, tucking this latest edition in beside all the others I’d collected this past year, and focused on another worry. “What about the rest of you?”
While I might be whisked off to safety by the godly children in my womb, people I cared about would be left behind. Marcus and Dominic and the others—young, innocent Kat and poor little Tarset—they would be here, facing down an unknown number of super-Nejerets with unimaginable powers.
I looked at Marcus for the first time since we left Tarset’s room, feeling like a doe staring down a mountain lion. “You have to get everyone away from here—away from me. You can’t fight these people, Marcus. Don’t fight them. You have to run.”
A hard glint flashed in his eyes, a dark promise eclipsing their golden glow. “What would be the fun in that?”
***
“Talk to me, Little Ivanov.” Marcus planted himself behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. We were in our suite’s sitting room. I’d been staring out the tall window for some time, watching dusk fall over the forest and the Puget Sound beyond, stewing in a mess of hurt feelings.
I gave his hands the slip and sidestepped to the next window over. Usually, I would go for a walk by myself to clear my head, but that was out of the question now. A bald eagle soared over the treetops outside. I envied it for its freedom.
“Lex …” Thankfully, Marcus stayed where he was. A good thing, because I’d have slapped him if he tried to touch me again right now.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Is it just chemicals? Is that all we are—a pair of perfectly matched pheromone producers?” When Marcus didn’t say anything, my head drooped. “How long have you known I would be traveling back in time again?” How long have you been lying to me?
“Since you came back from Kemet,” he said, using the ancient name for Egypt. “When you unblocked my memories, you unblocked all of them … not just the ones you’ve been a part of so far.”
I laughed under my breath and shook my head. “I feel like I’ve been the butt of some sick joke between you, Aset, Nik, and Re.”
“Nobody is laughing at you.”
“No, you’re just whispering about me in dark corners, planning my future—”
“What need do I have to plan your future, Lex, when it is my past?”
I looked at Marcus, drawn by the heat in his voice.
He moved to stand in front of me, his perfect face a thundercloud staring down at me, threatening a storm. “I live in fear every second of every day that each moment will be the last I share with you. And at the same time, I worry I’ll slip up and reveal something to you that will change things. Your future is my past, Little Ivanov. That’s all I’ve known since you returned to me. Your future is my past, and anything I tell you about what’s to come—any way I try to prepare you—might change how you act in that future. In my past. The very same past that has led us here to this moment. It is a loop that cannot be broken. This timeline—our timeline—must be protected.”
I sucked in a halting breath, then gave in and leaned against him. “I understand.”
His arms wrapped around me, encasing me in a false sense of security.
“I’m still mad at you,” I said against his shirt.
He chuckled, resting his chin atop my head. “I would expect nothing less.”
5
Fool & Foil
I’d never felt less safe in Marcus’s home. It was the knowing, I supposed. The sense of dreadful inevitability. The sun shining brightly through the living room’s broad picture window mocked me with its cheerful light. Usually I found Marcus’s taste in furnishings and decor too modern and cold with all of its sleek, clean lines and wide array of gray tones. But not this morning. At present, gray and cold fit my mood perfectly.
I sat on the end of the couch furthest from the snickering sunshine, one leg tucked under me, the foot of the other ticking the passing seconds just above the ashen hardwood floor. Thora, my brown tabby, and Rus, my ancient fluff ball of a kitten, basked in a rectangle of sunlight a few feet from my toes.
Kat, my half-sister, sighed, and I cast her a sideways glance. She was sitting on the far end of the couch, elbow on the squared-off sofa arm, cheek resting on her palm, and one slipper sitting on its side, forgotten on the floor. She looked even more miserable than me. Poor thing. Her mom was upstairs, locked away in the conference room with Dominic. In the days since Genevieve and Carson arrived, Dominic had taken to interrogating Genevieve in the house, far away from Carson’s prying Nejeret ears.
I was a wreck, constantly worrying about what would happen tomorrow … later today … in five minutes. At some point, I would be yanked away from this time and place; that much was all but written in stone. I just didn’t know when it would happen, and the anticipation was killing me.
Even so, I couldn’t imagine being in Kat’s shoes—or shoe, in the case of her abandoned slipper. She was one of a kind, and not in any enviable way. She was, like me, a newly minted Nejerette, and she was, like me, a daughter of Set. But unlike me, Kat was also a product of gross incest—Apep-Set having seduced his own unwitting daughter, Genevieve. The reality of Kat’s bloodline had come to light several months ago, revealed by Marcus in a last-ditch effort to rescue my ba from Apep-Set’s prison in the At. Only someone so genetically close to Set could break through his prison’s walls.
Unfortunately for Kat, eighteen at the time, she was still a few years away from manifesting, which meant her Nejerette traits had to be triggered early by forcing her into the At. Her body was forever stuck at its current level of maturity. She hadn’t cared. Once she’d heard that she was my only shot, she’d volunteered—against her mom’s wishes, of course—knowing full well that she would be the world’s first eternal teenager. She’d saved me, dooming herself to be forever eighteen in the process.
And just a few weeks later, Kat’s mom had left to join the Kin. Genevieve’s reasons were noble enough, I had to admit—from Dom’s interrogations, I knew she’d thrown her lot in with the Kin in order to
create a more tolerant world for her daughter. Kat wouldn’t talk to anyone about it, but it was clear that Genevieve’s return was torture for her. She refused to visit her mother, no matter how many times Dominic relayed Genevieve’s requests. It was painful to watch. I couldn’t imagine living it.
Figuring it was just about time for us both to suck it up and stop wallowing—or, at least, to make a show of it, I cleared my throat and forced a wooden smile. “Hey, Kit-Kat …”
I waited for her to glance my way. I could practically see the dark cloud raining down on her.
“I’m going to head down and check on Tarsi. Come with me?” The four-year-old was still comatose, but neither Neffe nor Aset could say for certain whether Tarset could or couldn’t sense us when we visited her. I chose to assume she knew we were there and therefore visited her often, sometimes reading to her, sometimes just talking to her, and sometimes simply sitting there, holding her hand. It helped to pass the time. But even more so, it felt right.
Kat’s long mane of curly chestnut hair was knotted into a messy bun atop her head, and the stray curls sticking out here and there would’ve lent her a wild, wacky appearance had the usual sparkle shone in her brown eyes. But the glassy, dull gleam, the faraway stare despite looking directly at me, made her simply look wrung-out.
“Sure,” she said with a halfhearted shrug.
Stretching and groaning, I hauled myself up off the sofa, earning disinterested glances from the cats for disturbing their sunbathing. Kat rose as well and had to fish around the floor for a moment to recapture her lost slipper. She dragged her feet as she followed me into the entryway, the rubber bottoms of her slippers marking her path with a shsh-shsh-shsh.
“Lex!”
I sucked in a breath and clutched at my chest with one hand, flinging my other arm out in front of Kat like my mom always did when she had to brake suddenly.