Eternal Echoes, Emblem of Eternity Trilogy Book 2 (34 page)

“What about Emil?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t had almost-sex with him for a few weeks.”

Jas laughed out loud. “Know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think we need to do something fun. Get our mind off things.”

I studied her face, the dark circles under her eyes, and clothes that hung looser than usual. “Are you feeling up to it?”

“Yeah. Zach and I can’t seem to get rid of this flu, but I’m feeling better today.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “No wonder you’re sick. I bet you both keep giving the virus to each other. Maybe you should stop having sex for a while.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not gonna happen.” She lifted her hand for another peanut butter cup. I tossed one to her. “I think it’s from working in the nurse’s office so much. It’s great experience, but I’m surrounded by sickness. The day after Valentine’s Day was the worst. People were coming in complaining of fatigue, fevers, headaches—I think they all overdosed on chocolate.”

“Chocolate overdosing might be worth getting sick.” I was glad Jas was feeling better for now. “All right,” I answered. “What do you want to do for fun?”

“Let’s go tubing!”

“Like on an inner-tube? In the snow?”

“Yeah! There's a place about fifteen minutes from here. The tubes are tied to a rope that pulls you up the mountain, and then you slide down. They also have hot chocolate and food. Western State students are always up there.”

I hadn’t heard of it, but I’d been a little preoccupied lately. “Are you sure you’re okay to be out in the cold?

“Eh,” she shrugged, “I’ll be fine.”

I watched her closely. “Okay. That sounds fun! When do you want to go?”

She thought for a minute, mentally going through her schedule. “Tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me.”

She got up from the couch. “I have a study group in the library, so I have to go. Let’s meet here tomorrow at three, though.”

“It’s a deal.”

I was working on my computer when Alex came in, his shoulders hunched, mouth drooping slightly. His jacket wrinkled at the set of his shoulders.

He dropped a stack of books on the table. “What are these?” I asked.

He looked at me with a bleak expression as he shrugged off his coat. “Research.”

Oh. Right. Research about me. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Part of me wanted to know what and who I was; the other part felt like everyone viewed me as a disease that needed to be diagnosed and cured before I took out all of humanity.

“What did you find?”

He breathed out a deep sigh. “That’s the problem.”

I raised my brows, inviting him to go on.

“It’s not what I found, it’s what I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He slumped down in a chair. “I found the records about your past lives dating back to Cassandra—which I already knew, because I lived them with you. Before that, there’s nothing.”

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.”