Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (18 page)

My heart breaks anew. I see everything around me in slow
motion, Anthony’s gasping, holding his throat; his eyes wide and looking at me with pleading eyes or what? Plight! He’s begging me to escape! Are we not out of danger yet? How can I live with myself if I leave him to die even if escaping was even a possibility? He’s still afraid for me. When I see the fiery tendrils still reaching out to Anthony, scorching him, I scream!

“Anthony!”

Why doesn’t he attempt to hurt me? Why only Anthony? Seeing Anthony struggling to push the tendrils away breaks something in me and I scramble over the console dividing our seats, and throw myself over Anthony, shielding his face and body with mine from harm. The tendrils reach out trying to get to him through me, and I feel a cool blue aura grow and surround me like a fragile wall. As the tendrils lick my body in an attempt to harm Anthony, there is a hissing sound like the lava meeting the ocean. I hold Anthony tightly wrapping my arms around him, screaming “No!” Instead of burning, my body is getting cold, and I’m shaking. Where is that woman who bound this creature of Hades?

Then the hissing sound sizzles around me, “
abyssus abyssum invocate!
” The sound is so strange, yet eerily familiar. I’ve heard what he said before, from this creature. 
Déjà vu
. “
Hells call hell!
”

“Not on my watch!” hisses a purely angelic, equally forbidding female voice and I feel a strong sucking whoosh; and for a moment everything that is not screwed in the SUV is airborne. I hold onto Anthony as my legs lift off the ground and flail over the steering wheel, and the strong arms of the angelic woman yank the hissing creature with such a force that I imagine the SUV exploding. As I finally feel Anthony’s grip hold me in place, the last sound I hear is his grievous, choked voice calling out “Miss Duncan! Ellie!” and I feel my strength slipping, my eyelids getting heavy; I force myself to stay afloat, coherent, but unable to manage it, I slip into the stygian of my consciousness.

When darkness consumes me
, I find myself in the void wrapped in the pale blue aura. I try to make a sound, but nothing comes out. It’s the howling that draws me... nothing but the sound of a wolfish howl; longing, calling, beckoning and sad. I’m helplessly, instinctively drawn to the sound. I’m surrounded by the total eclipse and the howling that’s calling me, urging me forward. A crimson horizon finally emerges resting against the pitch black. Everything is still, and there’s not a sound other than the howling. I can smell the fresh rain on dirt, and finally spot the animal ahead that just stopped howling and its intense gaze is piercing me. I lower myself to the ground and match its stare, following its movements. The air is heavy and thick; nothing stirs. Maybe the night creatures would be going back to their caves and crevices, but nothing stirs. The animal circles me fifteen times, inching its way closer with every loop it makes. It’s not a wolf but a coyote. It’s slowly and warily drawing closer to me.

The sun still doesn’t peak its head over the horizon yet, but the crimson and orange coloring the sky shows the dark silhouette of the scattered saguaro, creosote, and this coyote. I stand abruptly with recognition. I remember this. I know this! The adrenaline sends alarm
s to every nerve in my body firing my synapses. The coyote stops circling, and as it moves forward towards me, the air shimmers around it. The animal is wrapped in a thick fog transforming and shaping it with each movement, changing it. The crimson and orange of the sky stirs along the coyote, and finally a head and a body peak out from the fog, quickly standing erect. An old creased face with bottomless eyes emerges. One feather hung from the left braid of his hair. The eyes that have seen too many years are marked with numerous deep lines. From his ears dangle what appear to be two earrings too heavy for his ears to carry. His too thin lips are tightly closed. His long nose is slanted and down as it had been broken a long time ago and didn't heal correctly. His Pueblo headband wrapped around the crown of his head twice tied in a tight knot on the left side of his head. He moves towards me agile and graceful.

“You finally summoned me, Elissa, daughter of Marcus, wife of Alexander Aurelius, mother of Agnes and Jill,” he says in a lilting tone.
 

“I did?” I ask confused.

“Do you know what you are?” he asks. 
Yes, a California girl of twenty-one having a nightmare!
 I scowl inwardly.

“Do you mean who I am?” I ask in response, confused.

“I told you who you are. What you are is a 
Nephilim
.”

“A what?” I ask.

“You are the child of an Angel and a human woman. A Nephilim,” and there it is. It confirms that I’m crazy.

“Do you know what a ‘one night stand’ is?” I ask raising my eyebrows. “I’m the product of a one night stand. The woman who mothered me
 didn't know the man she slept with, and got pregnant on that one single sexual encounter and 
ta daa
, here I am,” I say opening my arms wistfully, finding it odd that I explain myself to this familiar stranger.

“No!” he says looking back with widening eyes as if he’s being chased by the
 hell-hounds. He speaks enunciating, and quickly. “That’s how you entered into your last cycle. Those people only lent their bodies as vessels and unfortunately that could not have been avoided. You’re the daughter of Marcus. You don’t have much time here, on this plane of existence. You are found! You must leave your home right away! You have enemies close to you, enemies who have the power to harm you, who can bypass your natural defenses. Remember, you are still mortal!” he says.

“It’s because I’m a mortal! Everyone is!” I shout, exasperated.

“Not everyone... Immortals live around you... close to you in fact,” he urges me and I can’t help but look at him with haughty derision because what he says is completely against everything I was taught. He is possibly a figment of my imagination. Immortality would simply be inexplicable.

“You leave me no choice, daughter of Marcus. You question your own mind when you see me morph from a critter of the desert into this old man. If you wish to understand, truly grasp what you are, you must open your mind! You are unique; one of the few left of your kind. What you are makes you both valuable and a target,” he says. “Open your eyes and see!”

“They’re open!”

“No...You are looking, but you’re not seeing!” he says, and turns my head, tilting it upward. “Look! Descry and see!” he says and grasping my wrists with his callused hands, he presses his thumbs into my birth marks that Anthony scraped earlier. They come alive under his touch. “Seeds of your memories are burnt into your soul. Let them wake up within you!” he lilts in an old language. The pressure of the pads of his callused thumbs slowly start
s burning. The intensity of his touch sears me, igniting a fire I didn’t know existed within me, jolting me awake. As he disappears from my vision, I find myself gasping for air; my back arches off the hard ground as I cough hard. A pair of hands gently lay me down again onto the firm ground. My breathing slowly gets back to normal and I wildly blink my eyes, trying to open them. My vision is first blurry, and images stir within each other. But slowly everything gets into focus, and clear. There are three sets of concerned eyes peering down at me.

“She’s back...” the woman with the blonde hair says with the most familiar sound. I must still be dreaming, because this is the woman who reached into the SUV’s windshield without breaking it to yank out the creature of the Hades but she has Stella’s voice.

“Ellie?” says a soft voice I recognize. It’s my uncle’s voice. I blink several times. The voices are familiar but both of the faces are different; my reality seems distorted. Did I wake up into a different dimension?

“Question:” I say while I continue to repeatedly blink my eyes, and finally rub them with the pads of my palms. “Am I still dreaming?”

The woman smiles, and answers, “No, dear, you’re not.”

“Stella?” I ask questioning. “Your regimens for youth and pure skin must have worked out well...”

“Why do you say that sweetheart?” she asks in her usual French accent, and I feel relief knowing at least one of my senses is working correctly.

“Because, you look sensational right now. You are radiating youth and beauty... So is my uncle.” I whisper, and she turns to my uncle with wide eyes.

“Can you see me as I am?”

“Yes. Is something wrong with my vision?” I ask concerned.

“No. Do you know what you are?”

“Oddly everyone’s asking this question. I would have said a 21 year old California girl, but apparently the correct answer is a Nephilim. Am I crazy?”

“No, darling
, 
you’re not crazy. We've been waiting for you to discover what you are for such a long time,” Stella says with evident relief in her tone. All three of them let out a breath they've been holding, and I just realized that Anthony hasn't said anything.

“Are you like me too, Anthony?” I ask.

“Yes, ma’am. Though you’re much more valuable than I. I’m not a first generation.”

“How about...” I clear my throat. “How about Mr. Pella...Is he like us?” I ask in a barely audible voice.

“He most definitely is, ma’am,” he replies. I don’t miss the look the three of them exchange.

“Are there many of us?” I ask trying to sit up finding the task hard.

“Quite a few, but still not as many as there used to be, ma’am.”

My uncle’s uneasy voice comes ringing. “Let’s get moving. Ellie, we need to move you someplace else. It’s not safe here anymore.”

“I am moving already. I have a new job!”

“
Miss Duncan
,” emphasizes Anthony, “is going to be working for my boss, Mr. Alex Pella as his personal assistant. I have come with her to drive her back to Los Angeles after she packs her belongings for the week.” This bit of information renders both my Uncle Gabe and Stella silent.

“Come again?” asks my uncle as Stella looks with her mouth agape for the first time.

“I didn’t have time to inform you. It just happened so fast. I have a new job as a personal assistant for Mr. Pella... his boss,” I say jacking my thumb towards Anthony who is helping me up to get on my feet. “Can we discuss this at home, I need to be packing.”

“Do you know what happened here?” Stella asks finally finding her voice.

 “How about if we all drive and talk on the way...” suggests Anthony, and opens the SUV door for me. We pile in.

“Where is your car?” I ask my uncle.

“It’s not important right now. We have a few things to discuss. It appears that you've gotten a job today and moving the same day you've gotten this job and we don’t know where,” he says. “I don’t think this is a wise decision Ellie. Do you know what just happened here?”

“I passed out which seems to be happening
quite often lately. I promise to see a doctor after I get back from this work week,” I say.

“No... I mean, yes, you passed out, but you
 didn't pass out because you’re ill. You passed out because you’re regaining memories of your own self as a Nephilim. Your body is just learning to adjust,” Uncle Gabe replies. I look at him sheepishly. The confirmation of my experience somehow makes me uneasy. I turn my head to Anthony to confirm that I’m hearing everything correctly:

 
“Anthony, I’m not being driven to a mental health facility, am I?” I ask.

“I can assure you that you’re quite sane Miss Duncan. I’m only driving you to your home to pack,” replies Anthony with a serious face.

“You are a Nephilim... A first generation Nephilim, and your uncle and I are here to protect you,” explains Stella.

“
You've known it all along, but you haven’t told me? You knew I thought I was going crazy! I allowed Sarah to take me to her shrink! Dr. Newman made me think I’m insane! Why wouldn't you tell me?”

“Baby, even gaining your abilities and memories one step at a time is taking a huge toll on your body. Look at it!
 You've been passing out every time. If we were to flood you with that information, it would kill you; you’re too valuable to take that chance, baby! It has to occur on its own.”

“So, you can’t fill in the blanks for me?”

“I’m sorry, darling. Not without irreversibly harming you. Your body and mind are still very vulnerable. The dreams, feeling different than your friends and your peers, your increasing strength… These are all signs of your impending change which must occur on its own. You must trust your own instincts, and trust that we have always watched out for you,” says my uncle in a soft but grim voice. The SUV comes to a halt before the wrought iron gates of my uncle’s house. The double gates glide back and Anthony drives forward.

“Change… okay, okay...” I whisper trying not to hyperventilate. “If I’m already a Nephilim, why do I need to change?”

“You’re not an ordinary Nephilim. You’re…” Stella pauses, trying to choose the right word, “special,” she finally says lamely.

“Is that your word for
‘helpless’?”

“No!” my uncle cuts her harshly. “
Special as in
one of a kind
.”