Echo Prophecy

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  “Find her,” he growled. “That’s doing something.”

  “And if she’s not anywhere? If she can’t be found? If she’s just gone?” Neffe asked, and Alexander and Dominic held their breath. Marcus’s volatility became more dangerous each day that passed without Lex’s ba returning to her body.

  It was the pain, and not just emotional devastation at the possibility of losing her forever, but the tormenting, ever-increasing physical pain of bonding withdrawals. Unlike kicking a regular addiction, Marcus’s need—his craving—for her bonding pheromones would only get worse. Only two things could stop the pain—Lex returning to her body and becoming one with him in the most intimate of acts, or his death.

  Standing, Marcus strode the few paces into the tent’s second room and sat beside Lex on the edge of the wide cot. She lay on her back, slender and pale and, as far as his eyes could tell, healthy. Neffe examined her every day to make sure nothing was amiss, and he washed her every night so she would be comfortable.

  Gazing down at her, Marcus ran his fingers along the silken strands of mahogany hair that splayed across the off-white pillowcase. She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed and lips barely parted … so unlike her usual, focused expression. Marcus imagined her face with a faint line between her eyebrows and her eyes narrowed in thought … or accusation … or determination. He closed his eyes for a long moment, swallowing his rising despair.

  Gently, he brushed his thumb across her soft, rosy lips, again trying to press them together, but she refused to keep her mouth closed. He traced his fingers over her chin, down the steep slope to her slender neck, and lower, until his palm rested over her heart … and he waited. A minute. Two. Three. Thud-THUMP.

  He tried to speak twice before he could form the words. His mouth was too dry, his throat constricted. “If she’s gone,” he said hoarsely, “then nothing matters anymore.”

  Marcus heard a rustle of fabric as Neffe stood. “Father—”

  “Leave me,” he said quietly. “Dom, you stay.”

  He didn’t look behind him to watch Neffe and Alexander’s hasty exit, but the scuffle of shoe soles on canvas and the brief burst of less stagnant air told him that they had left. It would be … difficult, what he was about to do … difficult and cruel, but also necessary.

  “Come here,” Marcus said to the only other conscious person in the tent. Dom had been his right hand, functioning as his protégé for centuries, and Marcus trusted few above him. What he was about to do might destroy everything between them.

  The Frenchman moved instantly, stopping at the head of the cot. He stared down at Lex’s porcelain face, his pale, sharp features etched with longing.

  Slowly, Marcus slid his hand down the shallow valley between her black linen-covered breasts, letting it settle in the curve of her waist. “She’s perfect, is she not?”

  The choking sound that escaped from Dominic’s throat confirmed his suspicions—Dominic was in love with Lex … with his Lex. It was the last thing he wanted to hear, but it was what he needed to hear. “What would you do to bring her back?” Marcus asked, deceptively calm.

  “Anything,” Dominic whispered, his accent heavier than usual.

  “Why can’t you find her?”

  “I’ve told you—”

  “Tell me again,” Marcus ordered.

  Exhaling his frustration, Dominic explained, “Every time I get a sense of where he’s holding her in the At, it’s as though I’m blocked by a wall. I can’t get through. I can’t even see what’s on the other side. I’m just not strong enough.”

  “So what would make you stronger?” Marcus asked.

  “More of Set in my veins—sharing half of his DNA just isn’t enough” Dominic said caustically. “It’s like there’s a scale I can’t quite tip enough in my favor to break through.”

  Marcus turned his head abruptly, focusing on the man standing beside him. “And if I could increase it? If you entered the At joined with someone who could tip the ratio of Set DNA in your favor?”

  “Hypotheticals get us nowhere,” Dominic responded.

  “It’s not hypothetical.”

  Dominic shook his head slowly. “But that would mean … Dieu! Set reproduced with his own human offspring?” His severe features twisted in disgust.

  Marcus nodded, equally appalled. It was one of the most horrific crimes their people could commit, but for once, he was glad of his ancient, misguided friend’s heinous faults. Set having reproduced with his own carrier daughter might very well save Lex.

  “Only once, that I know of,” Marcus said.

  Dominic was suddenly alert, displaying the razor-sharp intensity that had drawn Marcus to him when they first met centuries ago. “Who? Where?”

  Marcus looked back down at Lex, flexing his fingers into her tantalizingly soft flesh. “She’s here,” he rasped. “With her mother.”

  “With her mother?” Dominic asked, clearly surprised. Only the very young still had mothers, since Nejerettes couldn’t bear children. Every Nejeret’s mother was a human carrier. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “She hasn’t manifested yet.”

  “You would force her?” Dominic asked, horrified.

  “Without an ounce of hesitation or remorse. But the question is, will you?” Marcus asked.

  It was a horrible, dreadful thing to ask of Dominic. Forcing any Nejeret to manifest by thrusting them into the At essentially froze the Nejeret’s body at its current state of physical maturity. If the Nejeret or Nejerette were too young, he or she would die. If the Nejeret or Nejerette survived, his or her body would remain perpetually on the cusp of adulthood. In terms of Nejeret crimes, forcing someone to manifest was second only to incestuous procreation with your own human offspring—but it wasn’t as bad. It was acceptable—it had to be. For Lex.

  Dominic only hesitated for a moment before answering. “Yes, I’ll do it … for Lex. How old is the girl?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “You’re certain she’ll manifest … that she’s truly Nejerette?” Dominic asked. If she weren’t, attempting to force manifestation would be a death sentence.

  Marcus nodded. “She’s already showing the signs of pre-manifestation.”

  “Who?”

  “Katarina Dubois, Gen’s daughter.”

  “Merde! I didn’t realize Gen was … how did you discover she’s Set’s daughter?” Dominic asked with morbid curiosity.

  “I had her DNA tested as soon as I learned Set had impregnated her. Had to know if she was an Ivanov,” Marcus said. “She wasn’t.”

  “I see. Get the child to agree, and I’ll do it.” Dominic looked nauseated as he spoke. “Get her to agree, and we can find Lex.”

  “Done,” Marcus said, rising from the cot. “Wait here.” He strode from the tent with an undeniable purpose. The ache in his head spread throughout his body as he walked. It was always worse when he moved.

  “Sir?” a man chirped from Marcus’s right as he marched through the camp.

  “No.”

  “But—”

  Marcus thrust his arm out, effectively clotheslining the Nejeret. Less than a minute later, he reached Genevieve and Kat’s tent and ducked through the small doorway.

  “Marcus!” Genevieve exclaimed, rising from her seat. The desk in front of her was filled with empty and half-empty bottles. She’d continued her role as purveyor of the mystical and occult—mostly rubbish—as soon as they’d set up camp. “I still haven’t found anything that can draw her back to her body,” she said.

  Marcus doubted she’d put much effort into her search. “Where’s Kat?”

  “Kat? Why?”

  “I need to ask her a question.”

  Genevieve narrowed her eyes. “Which would be … ?”

  Marcus took a deep, calming breath. He had neither the time nor the patience for this. “I’d like to ask her if she would be interested in taking up a position on the excavation.”

  Genevieve’s dark eyes had always remi
nded him of Set, but he’d frequently wondered if he saw what he expected rather than what was really there. Those midnight pools slanted hotly. “Doing what, exactly? And don’t you dare say ‘excavating.’”

  Purposely, Marcus let his emotional restraint break. He could use it. He could use Genevieve—she was a woman, and he’d always been able to manipulate women. “I need her help, Gen. With Lex.”

  “How could my daughter possibly help you with your woman?”

  “If Dominic brings Kat into the At, they can break through Set’s barrier and get to Lex. It’s the only way,” Marcus said, letting his voice hitch.

  “But Kat’s not ready. She’s too young. She can’t even do it yet!”

  “If she lets Dom take her into the At, he can make it work,” Marcus explained.

  She inhaled sharply. “No! I know what you’re talking about—forcing. You won’t do that to my daughter!”

  Marcus clouded his voice with as much genuine emotion as he could muster. “Gen, I need you. You and Kat, you’re the only ones who can help me. I—I’ll die without your help.”

  Her anger wavered, but it quickly reformed under the strength of motherly protectiveness. “Absolutely no—”

  “Will she die without my help?” Kat asked from behind Marcus. Unbelievably, she’d eavesdropped on their conversation without Marcus noticing.

  Marcus turned slowly, settling his desperate gaze on Kat. “Eventually, yes.”

  “Am I really the only one who can help?” she asked.

  Genevieve began, “Kat, go back to—”

  “No, Mom! This is my business, not yours.” She ignored her spluttering mother and addressed Marcus. “Well, am I?”

  “Yes. I would be forever in your—”

  “Oh, please.” Kat rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself already. I don’t want you to be forever in my anything. I’ll do it—for Lex. I like her. She’s strong. She doesn’t let you push her around with all your ‘I’m such a hottie stud god’ crap. Plus, she’s my sister. I’d like to have her around again.”

  It took Marcus a few seconds to wade through her language, but eventually he stared at her, awestruck. “You’ll do it?”

  “Seriously? Didn’t I just say that? I thought you guys were big on, like, verbal agreements or whatever.”

  At a loss for words, Marcus closed the short distance between himself and the teenage girl and hugged her. She was slender, like Lex, and easy to lift until her feet dangled uselessly.

  “Thank you!” he said fiercely before setting her back down.

  Breathily, Kat said, “You can totally do that anytime you want.”

  “Kat!” her mother screeched. “I forbid you fro—”

  “You can’t stop me, Mom. Marcus won’t let you,” she told her mother. The girl was as fierce as a wildcat.

  Genevieve turned her dark, furious eyes on Marcus. “If this harms her in any way, I swear to you …”

  “I know,” Marcus said. “Kat, Dominic awaits us in my tent. Come.”

  “Now?” Kat asked. Her eyes were wide, making her look younger, but not afraid.

  “Was I unclear? Yes, now.”

  “Fine. Don’t get your tighty whities in a bunch!” Kat stated hotly. “I don’t know how she puts up with you … she deserves, like, a medal or something for messiah girlfriend of the year. You’d better treat her well!”

  She swept out of the tent with Marcus and Genevieve close behind her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Lost & Found

  Standing at the edge of the illusory camp, I stared out at Hatchepsut’s unreachable mortuary temple. Set had made the impenetrable perimeter of my prison large enough for a variety of death scenes, but cramped enough to taunt me with views of places I couldn’t reach. The temple ruins and surrounding cliffs glowed an eerie orange under a perpetual sunrise.

  I hugged myself, holding completely still and silent. How long have I been trapped in here? It felt like years.

  At the sudden, abrasive crunch of footsteps, I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath. Soon Set would strike, belittle, or command me. The order was unpredictable, though all three were inevitable.

  “Dieu!” an unexpected male voice exclaimed, quickly followed by the softer, shaky words of a woman. “Oh. Em. Gee. Is it always like that? It was like an acid trip. Not that I’ve done acid or anything. Where are—holy shit! How many … are all of those bodies Marcus’s? Oh … I think I’m gonna puke.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself more tightly, taking slow, deep breaths and trying to ignore the new, confusing twist to Set’s torture. Dominic hadn’t been present for at least several hundred death cycles. I wished Set would just show himself, so I could let him know he’d won, that he’d broken me to the point of obedience, and the torment could stop.

  “Lex?” the false Dominic said, only feet behind me.

  I hunched in on myself. Why Dom? Why now?

  “Are you okay? Lex?” Dominic asked, concern lacing his words.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I heard the female voice—Kat, I realized—ask in front of me, but I refused to open my eyes.

  Dominic, his sensuous accent inflaming my turmoil, joined Kat in front of me. “Lex? Why won’t you answer? Look at me, Lex. Open your eyes.”

  “No. You’re not real,” I whimpered.

  “Oh, Lex,” he whispered. “What did he do to you? Your face …”

  “It’s not just her face,” Kat said. “Look at her arms, her legs …”

  “Oh, Dieu …” Dominic groaned.

  “He’s not real,” I reminded myself out loud, trying to ignore the mental image of the man who had quickly tunneled his way into my heart, becoming my closest friend. “He’s not real … he’s not real …”

  “D’you think she’s broken?” Kat asked.

  “I don’t know … Lex?” Dominic said again, and my eyes flashed open when I felt his gentle fingers on my elbows.

  I stumbled backward, gaping. “You can’t … you’re not real. You can’t touch me!” Shock, more than anything else, made my eyes widen and dart around franticly. Where is he? He’s here, I know it!

  Dominic approached me again, wrapping his long, graceful fingers around the hand I’d flung out as a shield. “Feel me, Lex. I’m real.”

  Trembling, I let him pull me in close and wrap his arms around me. His lean body hummed with tension like a live wire.

  “Dom?” My voice was breathy and too high. “Are you really here?”

  “Yes. I promise.” He held me tighter, trapping my hands against his chest. I balled the soft cotton of his shirt in my fists and succumbed to violent, uncontrollable sobs. Had his arms not been around me, I would have collapsed to the ground, a broken heap of the woman I’d once been.

  “Um … guys?” Kat said from inches behind me. “I hate to interrupt this lovefest, but shouldn’t we, you know, get the hell outta here? ’Cause, if this was a movie, the evil dude would totally show up right now.”

  “Well put, Katarina.”

  My body went rigid at the sound of Set’s voice, smooth and contemptuous, and I groaned against Dominic’s shoulder.

  “Merde!” Dominic hissed. At feeling one of his arms release me, I held onto his shirt more tightly.

  Set chuckled. “My three favorite children visiting all at once … now, tell me how you broke through my—NO!”

  His wail echoed as the world melted around us, dissolving into a frenzy of erratic colors that blinked in and out of existence. The At felt dangerously unstable as it swirled, as though we’d been caught in an endless, violent wave.

  Abruptly, the disorienting motion ceased, and one blessed realization overtook my entire consciousness—the absence of pain. For once, my body felt whole. My ribs and abdomen didn’t ache. My hands weren’t sliced with a thousand cuts. Amazingly, my mouth neither tasted of blood nor felt swollen.

  Eyes still closed, I smelled the spicy, alluring scent surrounding me, and my pulse sped. That was something Set had gotte
n wrong; he hadn’t been able to recreate Marcus’s enticing aroma, nor his electric presence. I felt Marcus squeeze my hand, his warm, real fingers sending a thrill of sensation up my arm.

  “Lex?” Marcus whispered and I moaned at hearing the richness of his voice. “Lex? Can you hear me?” He sounded anxious … eager … desperate.

  “Mmmm … Marcus … you smell good,” I murmured.

  “Are—are you alright?” He gently ran his finger along my forearm as he waited for my response.

  Smiling, I whispered, “You’re here,” and opened my eyes. It was bright—too bright to focus right away. “Why wouldn’t I be alr—” My question cut off as soon as my vision cleared and Marcus’s concerned face came into view. He was leaning over me, his beautiful, blazing eyes searing into mine. My entire body tensed, and I sat up, ripping my hand out of his grasp. I instantly turned away from him and pulled my legs up, hugging them to my chest. A low keening tickled my ears, and I realized, belatedly, that it was mine. The sound rose and fell with my rhythmic rocking motion.

  “Lex—what’s wrong? Why won’t you look at me?” Marcus asked.

  “Don’t look at him,” Set’s voice replayed in my head.

  “No,” I whimpered. “I won’t.”

  “Please, Lex, tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what he did to you. Just look at me!” Marcus ordered, his words increasingly frantic.

  “Tell him you hate him. Tell him he means nothing to you.”

  “No!” I wailed, rocking with increased intensity. “You’ll die! He’ll kill you! You’ll die!”

  Hands were on my shoulders, stilling me, and I knew they were Marcus’s from the pleasant thrum their touch invoked in my blood.

  “So she really is broken,” Kat said. “Should we, like, slap her or something?”

  “Absolutely not!” Dominic nearly shouted. “She’s been beaten enough already!”

  “Set beat you?” Marcus asked, hoarse. Nobody but me seemed to hear him.

  “Fine, fine, whatever. Don’t Hulk out on me, dude! I’m just saying, maybe Marcus should back off. Seems to me he’s the one driving her batshit …”