Echo Prophecy Read online

  “She’ll never notice they’re gone. The girl has more clothing than a department store,” he said irritably. So says the guy with an Aston Martin and a suit for every day of the century. “Shall we?” he said, opening the front door.

  I took his proffered arm, and together, we stepped into the gently falling snow. We took a path through campus, letting the empty streets and brick buildings transport us to an earlier time period.

  “You’re very tall,” I said, breaking the silence halfway through the midnight stroll.

  “Correct.”

  I laughed softly. “No, I meant, how are you so tall? You were born thousands of years ago—you shouldn’t be anywhere near as tall as you are.”

  “Also correct,” he said, infuriating me … probably on purpose.

  “So … ?”

  He chuckled. “Before I manifested, I was around your height, maybe a bit taller. I was tall for the time and among my people. But one of the changes we all experience is the fulfillment of our physical potential. Had I grown up with ideal nutrition and care, I would have reached my current height, but that was impossible then. The changes—the cellular regeneration—it fixes all of that.”

  “Huh. So, I won’t be as tall as you in a year, right?” I asked, seeking confirmation.

  “You’ve grown up in a time and place that provided you with all of the nutrients you needed. So thankfully, no. I was never a big fan of the Amazon mythology. I doubt you’ll even gain an inch.”

  “This is all so strange, you know? It’s like a dream I could wake from any moment,” I said, my voice hushed.

  Marcus’s arm tensed in mine. “Would you want to wake up?” He sounded a little sad.

  I hugged his arm with both of mine and said, “Not anymore.”

  When Marcus abruptly stopped, I almost slipped on the slick brick path. With his free hand, he turned me to face him. His cool, leather-clad fingers cupped either side of my face, tilting it up so he could examine my features better in the light of a distant streetlamp. I could feel the faint kiss of each snowflake as it landed on my face.

  “What are you, Alexandra Ivanov?” he breathed. “What are you and what are you doing to me?” As his deep, silky voice released each word into the starless night, he leaned closer. Our individual white puffs of breath slowly merged, becoming indistinguishable.

  “But—”

  “Shhh, Little Ivanov,” he murmured, closing the distance between our mouths. His lips touched mine with the faintest possible pressure, brushing first one way, then the other. When I tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled back just enough to maintain the maddening softness.

  I slipped my fingertips into his coat pockets, pulling his body closer to mine, and groaned in frustration. I wanted more. I needed more.

  One of Marcus’s arms dropped lower, his palm pressing into my lower back, and he grasped the nape of my neck with his other hand. He’d understood my desire … he’d complied. His burning lips worked furiously against mine, and his tongue delved into my mouth, exploring my own with a skill and sensuality I’d never before experienced.

  Purposefully, I not-so-gently bit his lower lip, earning a growl. He responded by shifting his hand from my back to the swell of my hips and pulling me even closer to him.

  His fervent mouth laid a trail of fire across my cheek and jaw, then down to the tender flesh of my neck. His lips became feather light, perfectly straddling the line between tingle and tickle. “Beg me,” he whispered against my skin, making me shiver. “Beg me to take you, right here, right now.”

  I whimpered. I really, really wanted to.

  “Beg me, Lex,” he repeated, shifting his leg so it pressed against my coat’s conveniently placed lowest button.

  I moaned brazenly.

  “Lex, beg me,” he said roughly. I could hear in his voice that nothing less than my desperate pleading would make him take the next step. Oh, I was almost certain that he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him, but I was starting to understand him—this man who’d inspired millennia-old myths, who’d seen the Egyptian, Greek, and Roman civilizations rise and fall. For Marcus, sex was about more than desire; it was also about control.

  In the heat of the moment, I almost acquiesced … I almost begged him to lift my skirt and take me in the shadows of the abandoned midnight campus. But I wasn’t ready to give up the little piece of control I had left in my life.

  “No,” I whispered, the single word audibly hoarse. Embarrassingly, I was pretty much panting from the way his leg was manipulating that damn button.

  With a throaty laugh, Marcus returned his attention to my lips, kissing them tenderly. “You will. Soon.”

  “I hope you’re prepared to wait,” I said with a victorious smile. In my head, I was wondering if I would even be able to hold out until the following day.

  He kissed me one last time before moving his mouth to my ear and whispering, “However long, Little Ivanov, it will be worth the wait.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Show & Tell

  “Are you planning to do this every morning?” I asked Marcus, who currently had his arm draped over my shoulders as we walked to Denny Hall. It was drizzling, as usual, but I didn’t care.

  “Why?” Marcus murmured, glancing down at me.

  I shrugged. “I’d just like to know what to expect. I don’t like being disappointed.”

  “And if I wasn’t waiting outside your apartment building to walk you to a classroom in which we would be spending the day together, would you be disappointed?” His tone was too unconcerned, too disinterested—he really wanted to know the answer.

  “Oh, I don’t know … hmm …” I stopped walking in the middle of the cement path and rose on tiptoes to plant an undeniably steamy kiss on his lips, unconcerned that other people were passing around us. “Yes, Marcus,” I said, resuming our meandering pace. “I’d be very disappointed.”

  “Well, then yes, I plan to do this every morning,” he replied. “That is, every morning until we wake up together.”

  “I didn’t know you were planning on staying in Seattle for years,” I teased.

  “Years,” he chortled, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever said. But still, he was a cocky bastard.

  “Have you spoken to Alexander in the past few days?” I asked.

  If Marcus was surprised by the drastic change of subject, he didn’t show it. “No, why?”

  “So he doesn’t know that I know about you and the others?” And he doesn’t know we’ve been all over each other for the past two days?

  “No,” Marcus said. There was something—many things to be sure—he wasn’t telling me. But then, there was something I wasn’t telling him.

  “And the others on the team—they don’t know that I know they’re Nejeret, do they?”

  “No.”

  “Will you do me a favor?” I asked tentatively.

  He narrowed his eyes and looked at me askance. “That would depend on the favor.” Oh no, Marcus wasn’t on the verge of professing his undying love, to declare he’d do anything for the woman currently holding his attention.

  “Just don’t let anyone know that I know about you and the others until tomorrow … please,” I added the last word for good measure. That was phase one of my plan.

  ***

  I had just set a platter of oven-fried chicken on the table between a serving bowl of mashed potatoes and a gravy boat when Alexander knocked on the door. It was exactly eight o’clock. Pleasantly, I greeted my grandpa, and we headed to the table. Anxiety and excitement flooded my veins as I hurtled into phase two of my plan.

  “I’d really like to be able to trust you, Alexander,” I began, scooping mashed potatoes onto my plate.

  My grandpa looked acceptably confused. “You can trust me,” he said, meeting my eyes. I thought I could believe him, and I desperately wanted to.

  Lately, my world had been one big tangle of lies and half-truths. Som
e people lied to protect me, like my parents and Grandma Suse, while others withheld valuable information because it was against “the rules” or for completely unknown reasons, like Marcus, Dr. Isa, and Genevieve. Alexander, too, hadn’t given me the full truth, leaving out several important pieces of information, like “your new boss is Nejeret” and “I’ve had someone spying on you for the past six months.” I’d never been one to surround myself with crowds of acquaintances, instead preferring to keep a few true friends—close confidants who I could trust completely. At the moment, I had a grand total of zero true friends. It was time to figure out who I could add to that category.

  “I know about Marcus,” I told Alexander after I’d finished dishing food onto my plate. At his quizzical head-cocking, I realized he might not know that name, so I clarified, “Heru.” What other names will I use if I end up living as long as Alexander and Marcus?

  Alexander set down his fork with a soft clink. “I see. And what exactly do you know about Heru?”

  It was time for the trust test. “Tell me what I should know, and I’ll tell you if I do.” When his mouth pinched and his eyes narrowed, I said, “I’m sorry, Alexander, but I really need you to do this. I need to know I can trust at least one person in my out-of-control life.” Desperation resounded in my voice.

  Alexander took a deep breath and held it, studying me. Finally, he exhaled. “Heru has been my closest friend for over fifteen hundred years, which is why I asked him to keep an eye on you, just in case you manifested. It was a very large favor to ask of him, considering his position on the Council and the unlikelihood of you manifesting … but, he owed me. This is delicious, by the way,” Alexander said, taking a bite of chicken. “Tastes just like Suse used to make for me, back when she could stand to be in my presence long enough to cook and share a meal.”

  “Thank you,” I said, watching him. I decided he wasn’t trying to change the subject, but was just being kind. I dug in, eating while he spoke.

  “I’d been watching you for a couple years, since everyone manifests between age eighteen and twenty-five. You were nearing the end of the window, so I was fairly certain it wouldn’t happen, but I called in a favor from Heru anyway. He only agreed because he could still plan the big excavation using your university as a hub.” Alexander seemed to consider his next words carefully.

  “I’ve been putting off telling you about him because I didn’t want you to think being Nejerette was the only reason you were on the excavation. In the process of observing you, Heru—or Marcus, as you know him—discovered that you were a talented ancient linguist. He called me in November, asking my permission to invite you to join the excavation. I wasn’t against it, but I let him know I didn’t think it was the best idea, considering what could be happening on the solstice and that there would be so many Nejerets present. At that point, you hadn’t shown any signs of manifesting, and like I’ve said before, you manifesting didn’t show up in the possible futures at all. There weren’t even any possible futures that showed us ever meeting or interacting.” He shook his head, clearly confused by the big ol’ blank spot in the future At surrounding my Nejerette status.

  “Heru is, well, Heru,” he said. “He’s used to getting what he wants, and since I didn’t prohibit it, he asked you to join his little team of Nejeret archaeologists. The last time I spoke with him—in mid-December—he let me know, much to my shock, that you were beginning to manifest. I was planning to return at the end of January. It should have been plenty of time. Unfortunately, your Nejerette traits developed more quickly than expected, and Suse called me in a panic when you started showing that you knew things you could only have learned from an echo, and, well …” After a thoughtful moment, he said, “I think that’s the gist of it.”

  “And you two haven’t spoken since?”

  “Heru and I? No,” Alexander said resolutely.

  “Why not?”

  Alexander glared at the wall. “That, my dear, is between Heru and me.”

  I pressed my lips together, thinking. Alexander was my grandpa—my blood. He’d helped me understand what I was, and he’d just told me far more than I’d already known about the months leading up to my first journey into the At. If I couldn’t trust Alexander, then I couldn’t trust anyone.

  “Okay,” I said simply.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  “Okay,” he agreed with a nod.

  Minutes passed, and we ate in silence. I cleaned my plate and took seconds, while Alexander managed seconds and thirds. I wondered what would happen to a Nejeret who didn’t receive adequate nutrition, but it was a question for another day.

  When both of our plates were clean and we were sitting in contented silence, I decided it was time to initiate phase three of my plan. “There’s something I want to show you,” I declared. “Are you done?”

  Alexander let out a blissful, “Yes.”

  “Great!” I exclaimed and grabbed his hand. “Hold on.”

  Taking longer than I was used to when visiting that particular echo, the usual swirl of colors surrounded us before the world resettled in the form of a night-darkened waiting room. Surprisingly, the fertility clinic didn’t seem nearly as dark as it had the last time I’d visited this particular echo. Maybe my heightened Nejerette senses are finally kicking in, I considered.

  “Would you care to explain our current setting, granddaughter?” Alexander asked curtly, and I wondered if I had yet again breeched some Nejeret social norm.

  “We’re in the fertility clinic Mom used. It’s the night before I’m … er … conceived,” I floundered. “Just watch.”

  There was a click, and the door separating the clinic from the stairs creaked open. A tall, slender man with pale skin and black hair entered the waiting room.

  “And who is this?” Alexander asked, suddenly very curious.

  “My father … or my biological father. Come on, let’s wait for him in here,” I said, leading Alexander to the laboratory, where he would be able get a good look at the man whose DNA made up half of mine. I had a theory, but I needed to see Alexander’s reaction to know if it was correct.

  “What makes you think that criminal is your biological father?”

  “Just watch,” I repeated.

  The man entered the lab and turned on the lights. He headed for the pair of small freezers.

  “Deus!” Alexander exclaimed as he stared in horror at the man. He leapt in front of me, gripping my upper arms tightly. “We must leave now, Alexandra.” I could feel him attempting to pull me away from the At, but stubbornly, I held us there.

  “What? Why?” I asked. In my surprise, I had inadvertently paused the echo.

  The man—my father—was frozen with his arm reaching into one of the freezers.

  Alexander, realizing I was holding us in the echo, stopped fighting. He studied the man, examining and memorizing every detail of his appearance as well as what he was doing.

  “I believe you are right … he is your father. But Alexandra, you must release us so we can return to our bodies. It’s imperative!” He urged, wrapping me in a tight hug.

  I returned us immediately, and once again, we sat at the dinner table with our empty plates in front of us. I let go of Alexander’s hand. “What—”

  He cut me off. “I’ve never seen him in person, but we are all forced to memorize his likeness so we know to get as far away from him as possible if we cross his path. He is very dangerous.” He breathed deeply. “The man in the echo was Set.”

  “Set?” I asked, astounded. “As in, the Council member who disappeared over three thousand years ago, Set?” I’d thought the man in the echo was Nejeret and had showed him to Alexander to receive confirmation, but Set? That I definitely hadn’t expected.

  “Yes,” Alexander said.

  “And he’s my father?”

  “So it would seem,” he said carefully. “This discovery is extraordinarily important, but I’ll just confuse you if I try to explain w
hy. I should have paid more attention to—” Abruptly, he lifted his fist and brought it back down on the table, hard. “Damn it all to hell!”

  I jumped, then leaned back in my chair. “Alexander?” I asked, my voice small. “What’s going on?” I was suddenly very frightened. I’d never seen Alexander act like this. I’d never seen anyone act like this.

  “I’ll stay with you tonight and accompany you to work tomorrow morning. Heru and his team are the best in this regard and will help you understand.”

  “Understand what?” I asked.

  “What it means to be of the line of Ivan and of the line of Set,” he said somberly.

  “But—”

  “No, Alexandra. You must wait until tomorrow. And whatever you do, do not enter the At again tonight. For the sake of your life, please, do not.”

  CHATPER EIGHTEEN

  Prophecies & Protectors

  In his complete and unexplainable paranoia, Alexander had forbidden me access to any mode of communication all night. That, in addition to his interspersed, ominous remarks, had reduced me to a bundle of frayed nerves. By the time we left my building, I was ready to rush into Marcus’s arms like a blubbering schoolgirl … which was exactly what I did.

  “Little Ivanov, what’s wrong?” Marcus asked, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on top of my head. I knew the exact moment he noticed Alexander because his entire body stiffened. To my surprise, he didn’t let go of me. Instead, he tightened his hold.

  The complete oddness of dating—if that was what we were doing—a man more than twice as old as my ridiculously ancient grandpa hadn’t gone unnoticed by me. Neither had the fact that they were exceptionally close friends. In my many anxious thoughts throughout the long night, I’d worried about the confrontation that was about to happen almost as much as I’d worried about whatever Alexander refused to tell me about Set … about my father … about me.

  Hesitantly, Marcus released me until he was holding only my hand, and then he bowed his head to Alexander. “For my failure, I submit myself to you,” he stated, sounding grim and formal.

  “I release you, and forgive you … not that I should,” Alexander said.