Ricochet Through Time (Echo Trilogy Book 3)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  I sighed and rubbed my forehead. I was suddenly exhausted.

  Without warning, Re-Nik’s features transformed as the pale blue color bled back into his irises. His eyes tensed and his mouth curved downward in a frown. “Sorry, Lex.” Nik reached out and gave my arm a squeeze. “I know this is frustrating, but it’ll all make sense soon.” He offered me a conciliatory smile. “Promise,” he added with a wink. Somehow, I managed to convince myself I was only imagining the shadow of doubt in his gaze.

  Dominic’s arm slid from my shoulders, and he took two steps toward Genevieve and Carson’s cell. “You must remain in here, Lex, but there is no need for me to.” He looked at Nik, his dark eyes determined. “Allow me to pass so I might interrogate them. We must be as prepared as possible for what is to come.”

  … for what is to come. More ominous words had never been spoken.

  Nik agreed, and Dominic passed through a slim opening in the barrier. It closed the moment he was clear of it. I moved to the spot he’d passed through to watch the proceedings.

  Minutes passed, and though I couldn’t hear either his or Genevieve’s words, I was able to watch the tension enter Dominic’s body, stiffening his posture and making his movements minimal, precise. He was the third-deadliest man I knew, behind only Marcus and Nik, and was essentially cloak and dagger personified. I actually felt a little sympathy for Genevieve and Carson.

  For months, ever since I’d found out who and what I was—the Meswett, prophesied savior not only of our people and our world, but apparently of the whole damn universe, courtesy of the godly Netjer twins I was carrying—I’d felt like a prisoner in a gilded cell. My choices were no longer mine. My future belonged to everyone but me.

  My eyes became unfocused as I watched the strange tableau beyond until all I could see was the wall of shimmering At. My not-quite-gilded cage. Worse.

  After fifteen minutes of waiting and watching the interrogation from within our soundproof bubble, Nik and I conceded that our presence in the dungeon was less than pointless; really, we were in the way. We made our way out of the gloomy dungeon, Nejeret guards ahead of and behind us.

  “Do not be afraid, my Alexandra,” Re-Nik said as we ascended the stairs. The change in cadence and tone of Nik’s voice was unmistakable.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You left pretty quickly back there.”

  “I wished to consult the At,” Re-Nik said, nodding to himself.

  “Learn anything?” I worried the inside of my cheek.

  Thanks to ma’at still being out of whack—something that wouldn’t return to proper balance until my children were born—the At was unstable to the point of being unusable. Nejerets hadn’t been able to view more than a few seconds in the “echoes” for months now. But Re was different. Or rather, his connection to that plane of existence was different, because his was the soul—the ren—of a Netjer, rather than the lesser ba of a Nejeret. While we were all but locked out of the At, Re could still transcend to that other plane at will to view the reflections of past, present, and future possible events.

  “I learned little of value,” Re-Nik said, shaking his head. “The At is currently misaligned in this location … a time anomaly, it would seem.”

  I frowned. I’d been a time anomaly once, my presence in an ancient, foreign period masking all that was truly happening, leaving the echoes of Egypt during that time grossly misshapen in the At. My presence had inadvertently led to the fall of the Old Kingdom. How many people can say that? It was quite the accomplishment.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Again, Re-Nik shook his head. “Only time will tell.” His words were far from comforting.

  Once we were aboveground, following the trail that led back to the main house, I felt less and less safe with each successive step. Even within the impermeable At shell, even with the gang of guards stretching out ahead of and behind us and stalking through the woods on either side of the trail, it became glaringly obvious that any sense of safety was an illusion.

  “Re,” I said hesitantly, “if someone was able to free Apep, wouldn’t the same someone be able to get through any other barrier of At, too?”

  “Indeed.” Re-Nik walked along beside me, hands clasped behind his back.

  I inhaled and exhaled deeply, and some of the rising panic abated. “And considering Apep’s penchant for possessing the most powerful being he can find, wouldn’t it also be safe to assume that he possessed whoever released him?”

  “Yes,” Re-Nik said with a thoughtful nod. “That seems like a logical assumption to me.”

  I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ground together. His blasé attitude was becoming irksome. “And since I think we’d all agree that Apep’s headed straight for me—for them,” I amended, pointing to my belly, “there’s not really anywhere or way for us to hide.” I rapped a knuckle against the thin sheet of solidified At. “This won’t even be able to protect us.”

  Finally, Re-Nik stopped and faced me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned in, just a little, opalescent eyes searching mine. “I know you are afraid, my Alexandra. Just as Nik and Dominic and all of those bound to you by oath are afraid.” Compassion filled his alien eyes, and his lips curved into a gentle smile. “I, too, am afraid. But we must not let it get the better of us. We will acknowledge our fear, then set it aside and do what must be done, regardless.”

  Ever so slowly, I shook my head, eyes stinging with the strength of my frustration. “But what’s the point? There’s nothing we can do!”

  “Rubbish,” Re-Nik said in response to my hysterics. “This shield of At might not keep Apep out, assuming Apep has indeed possessed the mystery Nejeret with a minor sheut enabling him or her to manipulate At, but it will warn us of Apep’s arrival, and—”

  “You mean when Apep breaks through the shield, kills the Nejeret he’s possessing, and comes after me and my children?” I clarified, eyebrows raised. “Fat lot of good that two-second warning will do.”

  “Ah, but you didn’t let me finish.” Re-Nik moved his right hand from my shoulder to my belly. “The children you carry and the Netjer sheuts interwoven in every fiber of their beings—they will sense the danger, and this warning will give them the time they need to defend themselves and you.”

  “But—but—but,” I stuttered. “I’m barely a month along! They’re just fetuses! How could they possibly do anything to defend themselves, let alone me?”

  Re-Nik sighed heavily, his hands falling away from me. “Your children may still be forming, but their sheuts are as old as time and more than capable of acting on instinct.”

  My slow headshake continued. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It most certainly does. And more importantly, it is what is. When they sense that your life is in immediate danger—and there is no doubt in my mind that once Apep shows up here, you will feel that very thing—their sheuts’ innate survival instinct will kick in and you will be carried away to safety.”

  I stared at him, mouth agape, and hugged my belly. My kids weren’t just going to be gods whose very existence would restore balance to our failing universe. They already were gods. And they hadn’t even been born yet.

  4

  Flight & Fight

  The moment I walked through the doorway from the basement laboratory into Tarset’s recovery room, the moment I saw Marcus hunched over the bedside, I could breathe a little easier. It was a basic, physiological reaction to seeing him.

  Marcus and I shared a bond that went beyond love. We were, quite literally, addicted to each other, courtesy of a rather obscure pheromone emitted by my kind. It was rare that one of us found our biological and spiritual match, as Marcus and I had, and as wondrous as our bond was, it could be as much a curse as it was a blessing. It opened the door to unimaginable pleasure, but also to the very real possibility of death. Were we to be separated for longer than a few days, we would go into bonding withdrawals and, in time, we would die. People say they can’t live witho
ut the one they love all the time; they rarely mean it quite so literally.

  “Go on,” Nik said, and the sheet of shimmering At evaporated into a wispy smoke containing all the colors of the rainbow. “I’m going to speak with Neffe. I’ll seal you in here.”

  “Thanks.” I took a step toward Marcus, who still hadn’t raised his bowed head, then glanced back at Nik. “We’ll only be in here a moment.” I didn’t want to interfere with Tarset’s treatment. “Will you tell Dom to meet us upstairs in the conference room? And anyone else you think needs to be there? And can you alert the Council of Seven to be ready for an emergency meeting?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Nik said with a quick nod. “Just knock on the At when you’re ready for me to move you upstairs. I’ll hear it.”

  I watched him erect a barrier in the doorway, then pass through the solidified At like it was as insubstantial as air. Once upon a time, when I’d possessed Re’s sheut, I could’ve done the same thing. Of course, that same sheut had also threatened to tear me apart from the ba out.

  Sometimes, when I slept, I dreamed of the explosive episodes when my borrowed sheut threatened to rip free of me; I always woke screaming in pain and covered in a sheen of sweat, Marcus holding me close, murmuring to me in our people’s ancient language, the original tongue. I didn’t miss the power one bit, not when the cost was so high. Now, I was perfectly happy to be a regular ol’, sheut-free Nejerette. With two gods growing inside her.

  “Why are we calling an emergency meeting?”

  I spun around and stared at Marcus, taking in the weariness lining his chiseled features. I dreaded telling him about Apep, knowing how much more stress and worry it would pile on his already burdened shoulders. We were at war with the Kin, that much had been decided weeks ago, not that we’d made much headway in defeating them. Or in even finding them. But this escalation—the Kin releasing Apep—it was so much worse than anything we’d planned for so far. And Marcus, as our people’s general, would be responsible for seeing us through this horrendous situation.

  I opened my mouth and the words caught in my throat. Apep’s free, I didn’t say. Couldn’t say. Not when, right before me, Marcus sat at his daughter’s bedside, watching her struggle to stay alive.

  “Tell me, Little Ivanov.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, his stubble scratching against his palms. “I won’t break.”

  I swallowed roughly and nodded, offering him a weak smile. And here I was the one always getting on his case for treating me like a fragile thing; hearing him say those words almost teased a laugh out of me. Almost.

  “How is she?” I asked, moving across the room to stand at Marcus’s side. I rested my hand on his shoulder and leaned down to press a kiss against the top of his shaved head.

  “Stable.” He covered my hand with his and tilted his head back to look up at me. “They’re keeping her in an induced coma. Neffe tells me she’s out of the woods … for now.” He grasped my fingers and brought my hand to his lips. “Tell me.”

  I sighed and perched on Marcus’s knee, and it felt like my spine caved in on itself, just a little, as I recounted everything I knew about the situation so far. I watched his expression as I spoke, taking note of the subtle changes to his features as they tensed along with the rest of his body. His eyes, however, retained that weary glint.

  “And if he really is possessing the Nejeret who freed him, we’re pretty much screwed,” I said, voice heightened by the threat of hysteria. “Can you imagine the damage someone with Nik’s power could do if they decided to use their sheut as a weapon? They could destroy this place in a matter of minutes. If Apep’s possessing someone like that …” I shook my head, limbs twitching and heart fluttering with the desire to run, to flee, to go away, anywhere but this place where Apep would know to find me.

  “We won’t let that happen,” Marcus said with so much conviction that part of me believed him. Maybe. Just a little. I wanted to believe him so badly.

  “Well, Re says the twins’ sheuts should kick in with some sort of automated defense and ‘carry me away to safety’ as soon as they sense that Apep’s an immediate threat, so that’s something at least …” I let out a despondent laugh. After everything we’d been through this past year, I’d had the audacity to hope that the threat posed by Apep had truly been neutralized.

  But based on Marcus’s lack of shock, part of him had expected something like this to happen. I leaned forward, more or less collapsing against his chest and nuzzling his neck. His spicy scent soothed me enough that the tide went out on the ocean of panic threatening to sweep me away.

  Marcus’s arms curved around my back, and he held me close. “We’ll figure it out, Little Ivanov. It’s simple, really—all we have to do is kill the person who released Apep, then have Nik imprison Apep in At once more … then lock the whole thing away in a vault that nobody will ever get into again.”

  Another of those desperate, verge-of-tears laughs bubbled up from my chest. “So simple …”

  My sarcasm wasn’t lost on Marcus. Hands gripping my upper arms, he pushed me away enough that he could see my face. His eyes burned with conviction. “Apep will not harm you or our children. I swear to you …” He clenched his jaw. “I won’t allow it. You’re too important.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, and a tear broke free. It snaked down my cheek, only stopping when its path was barred by Marcus’s lips. “You know,” I said, my voice unsteady, “I wish the universe would be done with me already. I don’t want to be important anymore.” It wasn’t something I’d ever wanted. I just wasn’t a fate-of-the-universe kind of girl.

  “Not important to the universe, Little Ivanov.” Marcus pulled away, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Though you are that,” he conceded with a nod. He slid his hands up over my shoulders and along the curve of my neck until he grasped either side of my head. He drew me closer, his burning golden eyes engulfing my world. When he spoke next, his lips were a hairsbreadth from mine, so close I could feel the ghost of their touch. “I meant: you’re too important to me.”

  “Oh,” I said. It was all I could get out before his lips were on mine, his tongue gently wrestling mine to silence.

  At the sound of a throat clearing, we froze. My eyes opened wide.

  “Sorry,” Nik said. “I, uh, thought you heard me …”

  Marcus and I broke apart, and I sprang off his lap, smoothing down my jeans and T-shirt and looking anywhere but at Nik. My cheeks were ablaze.

  Marcus, however, remained seated, crossing his leg in that über-masculine, relaxed way. His gaze was palpable as it trailed over my face, and when his eyes met mine, I caught the hint of a smile.

  He stood smoothly and started across the room. When he reached me, he stretched his arm across my abdomen, curling his fingers around the side of my waist, and leaned in close to brush his lips along the length of my cheekbone. “You’re blushing, Little Ivanov. Whyever might that be?”

  “I, um …” I choked on my response. He was tracing the waistband of my jeans with his fingertips, causing a tingling warmth to cascade throughout my body.

  “Hold onto that thought,” he said, pulling past me and continuing toward the doorway.

  His footsteps stopped, I assumed because he’d reached Nik. I assumed because I wasn’t ready to turn around and face them all wobbly kneed and googly eyed. But as embarrassed as I was that Nik had caught us making out—right next to Tarset’s bed, no less—I was immensely grateful to Marcus for being able to distract me from our dire situation.

  “So this is how it starts,” Marcus said, his voice low and quiet. “Did you know?”

  My ears perked up. This is how what starts? War? The end of the world?

  “I think Re suspected,” Nik said. “But he doesn’t share everything with me.”

  “I see. Is everyone gathered?” Marcus asked.

  “For the most part. We’re waiting on a couple Council members to link up, and Dom is on his way now.”

  “Good,”
Marcus said. “Let’s head up. Lex?”

  I inhaled deeply, then blew out the breath. Turning, I forced a tight smile. “Ready when you are.”

  Nik faced me, flashing his pearlescent eyes. Re was back in control. He gestured to my abdomen. “Your children’s defensive reaction should be proportionately relative to the severity of the perceived threat. If the twins sense a more minor danger—such as Apep lying in wait in his host but not overtly attacking you—they’ll likely not react so drastically and merely become upset, thus alerting you of the danger by making you feel off, possibly even nauseated.”

  Frowning, I nodded slowly. I was fairly certain I knew what that would feel like. A couple weeks ago, a harmless-looking pocket watch came into my possession, bringing with it a nauseating sense of complete and utter wrongness. The watch had been crafted from an obsidian-like material Kat had dubbed “anti-At”—the physical manifestation of the universal force polar opposite to At. When given physical form, anti-At became a ravenous, soul-sucking material that consumed all it touched. Any Nejeret unlucky enough to come into contact with it would slowly unravel from the ba out, all threads tying them to the timeline rotting away until it was as though they’d never even existed.

  The anti-At pocket watch had been a “gift” from the Kin, and the closer I’d come to it, the stranger I’d felt. My discomfort had been a warning from the twins, and once we’d enclosed the watch in a shell of solidified At, the sensation had abated. It was no longer a threat.

  “And conversely,” Re-Nik continued, “the twins should not have any reaction if they don’t sense danger. It is the most definite way to tell if someone is a threat to you or them.”

  “So, what—you want to use me as some kind of an Apep detector?”

  “Precisely, dear Alexandra,” Re beamed at me using Nik’s lips and cheeks and eyes. It was a little disconcerting, seeing the godly pride I’d come so used to seeing on Nuin’s face altering Nik’s features. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could expand our protective barrier to include all of our trusted people instead of carrying it around with us everywhere we go?”