Memory of an Immortal Heart (Immortal Hearts)

by Kita Bell

  “There is most definitely a point to us, Eva,” Brand snarled, crossing the space. He reached out, smoothed his hand down her delicate spine, wanting to pull her body against his, to cradle her into him. But he knew she would resist. “That isn’t – I swear to god I trust you.”

  She shook her head, staring at the door.

  “I don’t belong here. And I’m leaving. I’ve given Seth the information he needed, and I want to go home. I should be talking to Rainey, not arguing with you.” Eva sounded tired. Defeated.

  Her words cut Brand, sharper than any knife. “You don’t want to know my ability, Eva,” he said wearily. “It isn’t relevant.”

  Her head rose. She scowled. “It isn’t relevant? That is why you keep secrets – not because they’re important to Stronghold, not because you don’t trust me – but because you don’t think they are relevant? What, you don’t think I care?”

  “Eva,” Brand began, “you don’t want to know…”

  “I do.”

  Deep in those eyes, Brand saw the flicker of real pain. Eva thought he didn’t trust her. She thought she didn’t belong at Stronghold. And she wanted to leave.

  He had fucked up.

  Brand cursed softly. He raked a hand through his hair. This was his fault. So he just came out and said it: “I take memories, Eva.”

  Eva stared, almost expectantly, as if waiting for Brand to continue. Then she blinked, absorbing what he had said.

  “You take memories.” Eva tilted her head to study his face. “You take memories? Like Seth can see my memories? If you can do that, then why is he the one who…”

  “No.” Brand interrupted, weariness rising. He had never had to explain his ability before. Not like this. When he had realized what he could do, his father had told the rest of the family. There had been no need for further explanation. “I take memories, Eva. When I go into a person’s mind, I search out a certain memory, or a set of memories. Usually it’s the ones that are most immediate, the memories that someone is trapped inside. The memories that cause pain. I don’t have much control. Usually the memories I need are the ones at the surface.” Brand met her eyes. “And when I find those memories, I take them. I can’t leave a mind without…taking something with me.”

  “You take them,” Eva repeated blankly.

  Brand reached out, touched the blue sweatshirt Eva was wearing. “Like you took this from me,” he said quietly, stroking his thumb over her collarbone. “This sweatshirt isn’t mine anymore, it’s yours. Only one person can wear it at a time. And as long as you possess it,” he said gently, raising his eyes to hers, “I can’t.”

  Eva stared. A slow, gradual horror began to rise in her expression.

  He had expected that.

  “So those people you take memories from,” she hesitated, “like that girl. That teenage girl. She was just a cub. They don’t remember. But can’t… Brand, don’t you ever give those memories back? I mean, they belong…”

  “I can’t.” Brand rubbed a hand over his forehead, feeling the utter exhaustion of those two words. “I’ve tried Eva, and I can’t. Once I take a person’s memories, I can’t give them back. I’m stuck with them. Forever.”

  God only knew how many times he had tried to give something back.

  Khael. Khael didn’t know, but Brand had lost count of how many times he had tried to give his brother back a memory – any memory – of Lis.

  Just an image, a scent – perhaps the memory of her sweet smile.

  It never worked.

  Which was probably just as well. Khael was alive. He wasn’t maddened or trying to kill himself. It wasn’t much, but Brand knew he had helped his brother.

  Relatively.

  You win and you lose, he thought, watching Eva back away. Brand’s heart felt like lead.

  “The girl…”

  “Meghan,” he supplied, and watched Eva shiver. Her gaze met his, dipped.

  “She won’t remember anything that happened to her? You just took away pieces of her life?” Eva sounded shocked, horrified. “Pieces of who she is?”

  Brand closed his eyes. In that moment, too much flashed through his mind – and the memories weren’t his. They didn’t belong to him. Except the first ones…and the last ones. His own memories. “Meghan’s ability got out of control. Drastically. She killed her mother and several of her friends. It was an accident, but she couldn’t deal with it. After that,” his eyes latched to Eva’s, “she spiraled. Tried to kill herself. Meghan doesn’t need those memories, Eva. She doesn’t need that guilt. She’s too young to carry it. Too young to know how to heal from it. I took those memories so Meghan would have a chance to live. To smile again. To laugh and love and just…be. That sort of situation is the only situation I use my ability in. And, from what I saw, I know her mother would thank me for it.”

  There was a long silence. Eva’s gaze dropped. She swallowed, clenching her fists. Shook her head. “That’s horrible.”

  Brand couldn’t tell whether Eva was referring to what had happened to Meghan, or to his own ability. “It is,” he agreed quietly. Because both were equally true.

  He stood, watching Eva rally herself. Finally, “So you thought I wanted to keep my memories of Rohe? Of everything that happened?” Eva looked confused. As if she wasn’t sure whether to be hurt, or relieved. “You thought I would be fine, living with memories of Rohe…of Rohe and…” her voice choked off. She closed her eyes.

  Brand’s lips tightened. At least she doesn’t seem frightened of me. He wasn’t sure if he could have dealt with that.

  “I did.”

  Eva’s eyes flashed open.

  “You’re strong,” Brand said quietly, stepping forward. “And so incredibly stubborn. What happened hurt you, Eva,” he brushed his thumb over her cheek as he had, that first night in Vermont, and watched Eva’s eyes widen at the reminder of Rohe’s touch, “but you will be fine. You will recover. The difference is that Meghan was trying to kill herself. Repeatedly. She had given up and she wasn’t healing. Nikandria couldn’t reach her. She wouldn’t have recovered. You,” Eva stepped back, so his fingers dropped from her face, “are still very much alive.”

  She looked shaken. “I’m not strong. I’m weak. I’m a fool – an idiot. I practically let myself be caught.”

  “You are none of those things.”

  “Brand, I don’t…” Eva closed her eyes, shook her head. “I don’t know. About you, about any of this. About anything.” Then, almost angrily, “You’re wrong. I’m not that strong.”

  Her fierce tone, her very spirit, gave lie to the words. Brand snorted. “You are.”

  Eva’s eyes flashed open, anger rekindling. “And how do you know?”

  “I know.”

  “What, because you’ve seen so much? Because you’ve taken so many memories?”

  “More than I can count,” Brand’s jaw hardened. “More than I ever want to remember.”

  “You’re wrong!” Eva cried, sounding so angry that Brand knew he was right. She sucked in her breath, shaking her head. “After those weeks with Rohe… I’m different now, Brand. I’m not the same as I was before. I’m afraid to run outside, even here at Stronghold. I used to jog all the time. I can’t handle the idea of small rooms, small spaces. Cells. Knives. Blood. When we were in that car on the train I almost freaked out…”

  “Being kidnapped by Rohe changed you, Eva,” Brand interrupted. “It didn’t break you.”

  Eva snarled, flashing her teeth and whirled away. She paced from him like he was something she didn’t want to deal with.

  Running again, Brand realized, with a strange twist of frustration. His Eva was always running. From difficult facts, from difficult fears, from life.

  “And what else? What were you even doing? Here.” Eva snapped, finally stopping to gesture at the table where Brand had cut his arm to bleed into the glass.

  “My mother is Sakai. She needs blood to survive. My brothers and I take turns feeding her. This week,” Brand
shrugged, meeting Eva’s gaze as his own heart tangled, “it is my turn.”

  “She drinks from her own children?” Eva’s face twisted into the revulsion Brand had known, and feared, would come. At least Eva didn’t bother hiding her disgust.

  That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

  “Since my father is no longer alive, yes,” Brand growled, his body tightening at her disgust. “She does not drink from humans, nor does she take victims. She does not make Bloodborn. She does not kidnap people, torture children or take prisoners. She drinks blood from a glass, and there is nothing wrong with that, Eva.”

  “Did you just call me a child?”

  “You’re acting like one!” he roared.

  “Is that why you were afraid of biting me? Because your mother is Sakai? What would you have done to me – drank my blood like Rohe?” Eva snarled, eyes flashing. “Or would you have preferred it in a cup? Because she did that too.”

  Brand growled, anger and pain arcing though his chest…then forced himself not to grip Eva as she side-stepped him, pacing away across the kitchen toward the counter.

  “I don’t drink blood, Eva. I’m Kaspian.”

  “Half Sakai, Brand. Half Sakai.”

  His frustration burst.

  “Kaspian,” he snarled, pivoting to lock his gaze with hers. “I am a blood tiger, I am Kaspian! Never compare my family to those like Rohe. We are nothing like her. Nothing like her. Do not judge us according to one—”

  “Rohe is Sakai. So is your mother.” Eva snarled back. She crossed her arms, standing before the refrigerator. Trying to drive him away, so determined to be angry. “Don’t think this doesn’t change things!”

  “My father was Kaspian,” Brand stalked toward her, gritting his teeth as he fought to keep a hold on his temper. “He loved her, she loved him. When he died it broke her. They were amati, Eva. She should have died as well. She fucking loved him, and we both know Rohe is capable of no such thing. Rohe and my mother might both be Sakai, but the similarity stops there. Rohe is a monster. My mother – whatever else she might be – is not.”

  Eva drew her breath to argue, and Brand set his jaw, voice becoming low and deadly as he stood over her. “It doesn’t matter what I am, who I am, what or my mother is, or even what Rohe is, Eva. All that matters is you. And me.”

  A pause. Her gaze narrowed.

  “And what,” Eva finally said, “does that mean? You tasted my blood when we had sex. Does that mean you can track my heartbeat now? Trace me in some Sakai way?”

  “I’m Kaspian,” Brand said cold and quiet as the pulse beat in his temples. “Doubtless your father was human. Does that make you human, Eva? You should remember that. Don’t make our relationship about this. Don’t twist it.”

  Eva’s jaw set, her eyes sparked in fury. “It wasn’t a relationship. It was sex. Just sex. That was all it was. Nothing more. And now it’s over.”

  Brand’s control fractured. He took that step, saw Eva’s face change to stunned shock as he gripped her and shook her.

  “It’s about love,” he snarled, “partnership. A future.” Brand bared his teeth. Eva swayed, then shook her head, that infuriating stubborn look crossing her face as she ripped away, her scent tinging with desperation.

  “It was only sex,” Eva reiterated, avoiding his eyes. “Nothing more. We both know it was nothing more.”

  Brand couldn’t speak, anger trapped his throat. “You’re wrong, Eva,” he finally rumbled. “You know you’re wrong.”

  Eva’s body stiffened. “Just sex.”

  “It will never be ‘just sex’ between us,” Brand growled. “You asked for the truth, but you’re the one who doesn’t want to hear it. Don’t lie to yourself.”

  Eva’s face finally flashed around, eyes glowering into his with a towering fury.

  “Lie? Lie to myself, Brand? I don’t lie to myself. You are the one who’s lying. Always lying, always evading, never telling the whole truth. And now that I finally know what your ability is, and what you are, is there anything else I should know?” The silver in Eva’s eyes flashed gold as red flecks expanded to fill her gaze. Her shoulders settled at an infuriated, uncompromising angle.

  Brand hesitated. Studied her face. And knew what Eva would do if he told her that she was his amati and that he had never intended to let her return to North Carolina.

  She’d run.

  She’d run so he would never be able to get within ten yards of her, much less complete the bond.

  Eva saw his hesitation.

  “God damn you,” she screamed, rage making the words almost unintelligible as she turned and ran from the kitchen.

  Brand took three steps to follow.

  Fuck. Fuck.

  It shouldn’t hurt so much.

  He had as good as told Eva he loved her. But he’d also called her stubborn. And a liar.

  But maybe she isn’t lying. Brand stilled, hand clenched on the doorknob. Just sex, Eva said.

  Uncertainty settled into Brand’s marrow like a stone.

  Maybe, for Eva, it was just sex. Maybe she really didn’t feel any more for him. Perhaps not enough time had passed… Maybe she was too young to feel the bond…no. Brand shook his head, tightened his grip on the door. Age didn’t make a difference with the bond, not after maturity.

  Maybe Eva just didn’t want him. Not like that.

  Not for anything beyond the “temporary.”

  Actually, if Brand considered Eva’s words, then the “temporary” was now over.

  All she’s ever wanted is escape. First her Gens, then Rohe. Now me. It felt as if Eva had grown claws and ripped his chest open. Brand dropped his head and cursed. For once, just this once, he let Eva go.

  It was one of the hardest things he ever did.

  Eva stumbled back to the rooms, stared at the door, and realized she couldn’t go inside.

  Not anymore. They weren’t her rooms. They were Brand’s.

  A shard of pain lanced through her anger, sinking sharp barbs into her heart, and Eva quickly turned and searched down the hall for the first rooms Nikandria had given her. Eva gripped her fists, desperately holding onto her anger. If she could just keep herself from thinking until it was safe…

  “Not yet,” she whispered in the dark silence of the hall. “Not yet.”

  She found it. Eva pushed inside and slammed the door, setting the lock. Then she collapsed against the smooth wooden panel and allowed herself to slide down the surface to the soft, thickly carpeted floor. Dust tickled her nose. The room was empty. So quiet.

  Too quiet.

  Eva stared at the far wall. Her anger faltered, crumbled away.

  Then, whether Eva wanted it or not, everything sank home.

  Brand’s mother is Sakai. Brand is half-Sakai. Brand steals memories.

  None of these reminders helped. Because, at the end of it all, there was only one singular truth: We’re done.

  We never even truly started.

  It’s my fault.

  She sniffed.

  It was going to happen anyway. Better now than later.

  Eva curled into a ball on the floor and cried.

  Corin King stepped across the barren crust of snow where the wind had swept the ground almost clear. Before him stood a high barrier wall that called to mind, vaguely, the ancient fortresses of Europe. He laid a gloved hand on the stone and felt at the mortaring between the cracks.

  The barrier was solid, old. Well-built. It would not have fallen easily, neither then nor now.

  So this is where Rohe’s pet has run.

  King had always wondered where Europe’s old Kaspian had fled. The Courts believed the Kaspian died out on coming to the New World, or became lost in the jungles of South America. But King had never been quite convinced.

  Now he knew.

  This was where they came. To a fortress in a valley in the wests of Canada. King shook his head, thinking of how the Courts of Europe would have laughed.

  King smoothed his fingers down t
he dark stone, studying it. Then he removed his glove and traced the mortar again. There seemed to be a – friction – at the border. A presence. An awareness that began at the wall. Most wouldn’t have noticed it, but he did.

  King frowned, dropped his hand to replace the glove.

  Somehow, the wall was guarded. By more than the cameras he had noted earlier. Furthermore, there must be a large tract of wilderness across the barrier; the Strategoi could hear no heartbeats beyond that of animals.

  If he wished, he could cross into the Kaspian’s territory, but the crossing would betray his presence.

  Finding a way to slip past the mind that guarded the barrier would take careful planning, and a great deal more thought.

  It would prove a challenge.

  Corin King almost smiled.

  Chapter 12

  Eva closed her eyes, pretended she was anywhere else, and tried not to take too much comfort from Brand’s steady presence beside her on the plane as they took off out of Calgary. She could feel him all along the right side of her body, like an extension of awareness.

  As the plane launched into the air, she tried not to breathe his scent into her lungs, tried not to feel the heat of his elbow beside her on the armrest. Tried not to think. Eva pulled the dark leather coat Nikandria had given her more tightly around her shoulders and pushed back into the plush first-class seating as the plane leveled out. The vented air smelled stale, over-used. Claustrophobic. Eva had never flown before, and didn’t think she liked it.

  Okay, I don’t like it. But I’m better off than Joshua. Joshua was in the seat behind her, beside Kevin Ysperin, and had been steadily drinking from the moment he’d sat down. “Drugs don’t work, and alcohol fucks me up. But better to be fucked up than to realize I’m shooting through the air at roughly 300 miles an hour while trapped inside a rattling death trap 30,000 feet above ground. Merde. You owe me, cousin,” Joshua had growled at Brand. “You seriously owe me.”