Eternal Echoes, Emblem of Eternity Trilogy Book 2 (7 page)

Alex stared at me suspiciously. “That sounds ominous.”

I stood. “I’m going to take a shower, and then study. I’ll be in my room.”

I glanced at them both as I walked up the stairs. Alex looked incredulous. “You’re really not going to fight us more on this?”

“Not tonight,” I called, from the landing. “But just a warning: if you try to lock me in my room, there will be an Evie revolution.” I stepped into my bedroom and shut the door.

Alex was leaning against the wall, looking at his phone, when I came out of psych the next day. He smiled when he saw me. “Hi,” he said. “How was class?”

“Interesting,” I answered. “A lot of people weren’t there today, so we watched a documentary on child psychology. You screw with a kid’s head and who knows how they’ll turn out. I’m surprised the world doesn’t have a lot more serial killers.”

Alex gave another small smile as we started walking. “You’ve always been fascinated with murderers. I think you believed you could single-handedly figure out who Jack the Ripper was.”

My mouth dropped a bit. “I was in London during that time?”

He nodded. “Not as Cassandra, it was another life. You even wanted to pose as a prostitute to lure him in.”

My eyes went wide. “I did?” That was pretty independent thinking for a woman in the eighteen hundreds. “Did I do it?”

“No. Your husband was less enthusiastic.” Alex looked off in the distance as if replaying the situation in his head.

“That sucks! I could have helped find Jack the Ripper! If I’d been one of his victims, I just would have come back in another life. No big deal.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “First, have you seen how his victims were killed? Someday I’ll take you on one of the tours in London where they go to each site, detailing every horrible aspect of the murders while they show you photos of the original crime scenes. It wouldn’t have been a pleasant death if you’d died. Second, I absolutely couldn’t have watched you suffer like that. Third, as with anyone evil, there’s a chance the Ripper was a Daevos member. At best, that would have meant he’d take your soul; at worst, he could have figured out you were a Tracker and tried to use you.” He stopped walking and held my gaze. “I’d do
anything
to make sure you wouldn’t have to go through that kind of torture.” Seconds ticked by. “If Jack the Ripper had tried to hurt you, I would have taken his soul and ripped his heart out at the same time, regardless of whether he was Daevos or not. Then I would have been in trouble for not getting permission to take his soul first, and the Amaranthine might have stopped me from being your Protector in another life. And if he’d taken your soul, I’d have nothing to protect, would I? The situation would have been bad for everyone.”

Geez. It seemed Alex had strong opinions on the subject. I wondered if he’d influenced my husband at the time. I highly doubted someone like Jack the Ripper could be redeemed, and taking his soul probably would have done everyone a favor. Who knows what he came back as when he finally died. That led me to wonder why an evil soul was allowed to come back at all. “At what point is a soul evil enough to be taken?” I could think of plenty of people in history I’d never want to see on the earth again.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if a soul is evil in one life, can it ever actually be redeemed? Or does it keep building on that evil from life to life? Is that how we got people like Hitler and Caligula? Bad judgment on the part of the Goddesses over when evil souls should be taken?”

Alex furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. The Goddesses make the decision.”

Alex had had at least two hundred and fifty years to think about questions like this and he’d never asked? I watched him closely, stunned that he could so blindly follow the Goddesses and support the Amaranthine without a complete understanding of how they worked, or why they made the decisions they did. “And still, you’re completely devoted to the Amaranthine.”

“Every organization makes decisions that won’t be popular. I believe in what the Amaranthine Society does and what the Goddesses order, Evie. For the greater good.”

I gaped. “They might be returning evil souls back to the world to have another chance at being evil. There’s no greater good about that, and no amount of rationalizing can make it seem so.”

Alex blew out a long breath as we sat on a secluded bench under some pine trees. “My understanding is that souls are given several chances to redeem themselves. It’s the same issue of balance as with the Daevos. Once souls find their mate, it helps them balance each other out. People who were evil in one life might find their mate later and develop into the kind, charitable soul they always should have been. You have to learn to look past one lifetime, and focus on a soul’s eternity. However, if it’s overwhelmingly clear that an evil soul isn’t going to change, the Goddesses will order the Amaranthine to take their souls.”

“I’d get a definition on “overwhelmingly clear” if I were you,” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t want to work for an organization that gave some of the most evil souls in history another chance.”

“Everyone has the capability for evil, Evie. The question is whether you act on it. Life experience in each lifetime helps to make each soul grow and change until they’re ready to find each other again. Because of those experiences, some souls become more violent or aggressive than others. Finding your soul mate helps bring balance to those extreme tendencies.”

I thought about his explanations, and didn’t like them. Maybe there weren’t many evil people in the world at all. Maybe there were just a few evil souls that kept coming back and taking on evil roles in each life. If so, the Goddesses weren’t as humane as I’d given them credit for. “Do evil souls at least get reincarnated to a place where they’re tortured or something?” I was a big believer in karma.

“It’s not usually a specific selection…though, the Goddesses can control it if they choose to. For most people, their body dies, and then their soul is judged and moved into the body of a baby about to be born. Where a soul ends up isn’t typically discriminatory or planned unless the Goddesses step in and make the choice.”

I considered that. It seemed…unorganized. “So, you’re telling me that if I ever have a kid, the soul that comes with it could be Hitler. That’s excellent birth control, Alex. I won’t be having sex. Ever.”

Alex grinned. “I can put in a no-evil-soul request for you.”

I glared at him. “Are the Goddesses still creating new souls?”

Alex shook his head. “They stopped a long time ago.”

“So, the souls here now are the only souls that exist?”

“No. The Goddesses gave soul mates the power to create souls. But only certain soul mates can do it. Considering how many lifetimes it generally takes people to find their other half, there aren’t a lot of soul mates out there making new souls.”

“How does it work?” I asked. I had the fleeting thought this might end up like the birds and bees conversation with my mom…which included a lot more detail than I’d been comfortable with—and diagrams. I shuddered at the memory.

“A couple performs a special ceremony to create the souls.” I stared at him. Scenes from a special on sex rituals from the History Channel—which I’d watched purely for educational purposes—ran through my head. Alex seemed to sense where my mind was. “The ritual involves a lot of chanting.” So did the History Channel’s, I thought, thinning my eyes. Alex rolled his eyes, continuing, “The soul is split into two halves and both are transported into the bodies of separate babies. Then they spend lifetimes learning, growing, and searching for one another.”

“Does the couple choose the babies the souls go to?”

“They can, but most don’t. Some who want to have the experience of being parents together have done it, though.”

“So, technically, we all have a soul parent, who stays the same regardless of what life we’re in because they gave birth to our soul, and a biological parent who changes with each lifetime.”

“That’s correct.”

“Would I know my soul parents if I met them?”

Alex shrugged. “When it comes to you, I don’t have the answer. Your powers make you completely unpredictable,” he said pointedly. “But in general, for the majority of people, no, they wouldn’t know their soul parents.”

“Well, that sucks.” I tightened the scarf around my neck against the cold. “If we knew who they were, maybe we could ask them why I seem to have all these powers no one else does.”

Alex’s expression smoothed to thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Do the Amaranthine or Goddesses keep record of that anywhere?”

“I’m sure they do. It’s just a matter of getting access to it.”

I inclined my head to the side. “You should work on that,” I said. “It would be nice to know who I am.”

He nodded in agreement. “I’ll look into it.”

We stepped into the library, found a private room, and I dropped my bag. Alex got out his phone while I did my homework. Gunnison is so remote that when I’d moved here, I’d been surprised to find they had decent cell service. At first I thought it was probably a necessity because most of the town’s population was college students. But after a drive down Highway 50 one day, I realized it might have more to do with the prison eighty miles outside of town than the college student population. The sign warning motorists not to pick up hitchhikers in the prison area cracked me up. Clearly, they needed to work on their incarceration techniques.

I laughed thinking about it. Alex gave me a curious look. Still smiling, I waved him off and pulled a book from my bag. He went back to his phone while I spent the next two hours learning about crazy people…not exactly comforting considering most people would probably think I was one of them.

I spent all morning getting ready for my date with Emil. I blew my hair out using a metal round brush and almost caused a five-alarm fire on my head. Round brushes are tricky.

The acrid smell of burned hair lingered until I couldn’t take it anymore. I left the bathroom to finish getting ready in my bedroom. When my hair had so much volume that I looked like a member of an 80s rock band, I started curling it. By the time I was done, my big hair and sexy curls rivaled the actress on the latest cover of
Cosmo
. I pulled half of it up and pinned it at the back of my head. I always felt like my body might not be model-worthy, but my hair could compete on any red carpet. My makeup was flawless with mineral foundation, gray sparkly eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara to highlight my blue eyes. Rose pink blush and shimmery pink lipstick completed the romantic look.

I walked out of the bathroom and ran into Jasmine. Her lips pursed into a line and eyes narrowed. I could tell she was still mad. I didn’t want it to be like this, and definitely didn’t want the animosity hanging between us. “Jas—”

The look she shot me was enough for me to forget whatever apology I had been about to give. She pushed past me, stomping down the stairs. She slammed the door on the way out. I blew out a breath and thought about what a mess my relationship with her had become, and what I might do to fix it, then went back to my room.

I was still trying to decide what to wear when the doorbell rang. I looked at my watch. It was only two-thirty. I ran downstairs to open the door in my white tank top and jogging pants. My jaw hit the floor. Emil was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, with pinstripes a shade of darker black running through it. He had on a black dress shirt, and a deep jewel-toned sapphire satin tie. He was so sexy, I forgot to breathe for at least fifteen seconds. When I’d gulped in some air, I cringed, realizing I was going to be seriously underdressed. Even the dress I’d planned to wear wasn’t dressy enough to match Emil’s suit. Emil smiled widely. “You look beautiful.”

I glanced down at my lounging clothes, wondering what could possibly be beautiful about them. “I, uh…I’m still trying to figure out what to wear.” Emil had said to wear a dress, but hadn’t mentioned it was black-tie. I started mentally rummaging through my closet, trying to remember if I’d brought any of my old prom dresses to college with me.

“I think I can help with that,” he said, leaning down. I peered out the door. A large silver box tied with a dark purple bow was leaning against the house. He handed it to me. I took it from him with a question in my eyes.