Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (32 page)

“But, as much as I want to understand and believe in all you’re saying, I really couldn’t have been the first generation. Either you’re mistaken, or I do not comprehend what you are saying. You met my mother last night. And that woman who tried to sell me off to my enemies to be sacrificed, or kill me,” I say shaking my head
trying to chase away the memory, “she had a one night stand while she was seven sheets to the wind during a college rave. I assure you, no love was involved in my conception and neither does Sarah remember the man who knocked her up. I don’t think my biological father even knows that I exist. I’m only the product of a temporary drunken lust between two college kids. Yet here you are saying that I have a father who is an angel,” I say shrugging. He shakes his head.

“No, your birth through Sarah was only the sixteenth time you matriculated thanks to Marcus so you would escape the wrath of Heaven,” he says to my dumbfounded expression. I don’t understand. How would I matriculate sixteen times? Reincarnate? That’s impossible.

“Why would I be the target of heaven’s wrath? I’ve done nothing bad to anyone, let alone heaven!” I say laughing. Surely, this is completely absurd. A fantastic tale… but a tale nonetheless. I can’t see what benefit Alex sees in telling such a strange, but a mythical story. He reads my expression correctly. With lighting speed, he captures my arms, grasping my wrists.

“I’ve no reason to tell you a myth, angel. Look,” he says as he turns his own wrists ups along with mine. The marks—birthmarks he has on his wrists are matching mine.

“What the hell! Are we siblings?” I ask as bile rising in my throat. I have feelings for him, and let him fuck my brains out!

“No!” he says tersely pulling his hands away as if I burned him. “I was marked by your father.”

“I don’t understand! You’ve known me before? You said you didn’t know me and that we just met…” I whisper horrified.

“I told you this
: Yesterday was the first time I laid eyes on you, Elissa Cassandra Duncan,” he says and I hear the truth in his words. “…in this existence.”

He waits for me to grasp the weight of his words. “This existence? So, you’ve known me in another existence?”

“Elissa, I just told you I knew your father.”

“But that doesn’t mean you knew me. How old are you?”

“Older than you,” he says cryptically. I shake my head.

“Have you known me before?”

A shudder goes through him.

“I’m trying to tell you the story of how I met your father. Do you want to hear it? Are you up to it?” He asks, completely ignoring my question.

My hands fly to my face absently rubbing and shoving my hair back. I take a deep breath.

“I’m baffled. You do understand how absurd everything sounds, don’t you? Either I really am crazy, or what you are telling me is…” I say abruptly standing up. He follows suit, and he looms over me in his magnificent height, his piercing gaze is fixed on my face.

“Why would that be Elissa? Yesterday morning as far as you knew humans were the dominating species; nothing was above humans… and of course the history has been written by the victors, and the records of our species have nearly been effectively erased. We’ve decided that it was best to remain out of the human’s radar, God’s favorite children,” he says matter of factly, “and we’ve become a thing that belongs to mythology. It benefited and helped the remaining of our species to thrive of course. But as far as you knew up until last night that nothing better, superior, nothing immortal…” he says pausing “existed. Here we are, two Nephilim: Children of Angels of Eden and human women. You probably thought that angels were a thing of the religious books and mythology which of course was also proven wrong to you just yesterday. The fact is…”he says taking a deep breath, softening his voice, “they’ve been around all your life, searching for you. You’ve lived with two angels all your life. Then you’ve met some minions of Hades last night which probably were the creatures that existed in the pages of the dusty mythological books your uncle made you read. After all you’ve seen within the last two days, do you still doubt me, Ellie?” he says in a deceptively soft voice.

“I suppose… I… I think, I might have to hear what you have to say,” I mutter, my voice cracking. The horses momentarily distract me. They are listening with intelligent eyes, but I dismiss them. They both snort in unison, shaking their heads up and down.

Alex extends his hands for mine. “I will have to show you,” he says with grim determination.

“Show me, how?”

“Share my memories… Are you sure you want this?”

“What the hell…,” I say resigned,“
I’m already down the Rabbit Hole. I’ll drink,” I say. He cocks his head to the side.

“Alice in Wonderland,” I reply. He nods with a smile that doesn’t reach his beautiful eyes.

“So, are you going to tell me the story?”

“No, you will be observing the memory as it happened; nothing less, nothing more. I’m going to lie on the ground. The best way would be if you lie on top of me. Do
exactly
as I ask you, and don’t move no matter how much you want to move or break away. You will want to break, and drift away. I will hold you. I cannot stress enough how dangerous this is,” he says sighing with a momentary indecision. He inhales sharply. “I must be delirious, but, you leave me with no other choice! Not just your life, but the balance of the universe is at stake. But this I promise: I won’t let you fall. I won’t let you break away. And I will be with you even if you can’t see me or hear me. Just focus on feeling me. It will help you to anchor you in this point in time.” Why would I want to move or break away? We are on flat ground; there’s no place to fall off of.

“
Remaneo B!
” he says addressing his horse. He finds a spot by the trees with dried grass and fairly flat surface, kicks the ground checking something with his boots. Feeling satisfied, he walks back to his horse and takes out a blanket and another article. He sits on it, and motions for me to come over with the crook of his finger. I swallow but walk towards him.

“Sit on my lap as if you’re riding me,” he says with the slightest hint of a smile. I immediately obey and find myself happy to do it.

“Do you trust me Elissa?” he says cocking his head to one side. For some strange reason, I trust this man with every fiber of my being. I nod without blinking. He produces a small peculiar knife. It has an otherworldly glow, and shaped like a wolf’s tooth with a leather thong. It looks ancient and brand new at the same time. He makes two small pricks on each of his wrists. Small drops of blood form from the punctures forming four identical size menisci. Then those drops slowly move into the ridges of the birth mark on his wrists, filling and animating them. He looks pained at first as if holding his hand in fire, tilting his head back. Then holds his wrists up.

“Align yours with mine,” he whispers hoarsely. I lift my wrists up, and he touches mine with his. I feel his blood transferring and filling the ridges in my wrists. Warmth spreads through my body. My vision gets blurry, sounds start growing distant. I feel Alex lie down and hold me tight in his steely embrace, and ordering me not to resist and to do the same. His voice sounds so far away.

“Ellie! Hold… tight! Hold me, Elissa!” He wants me to do something but I can’t hold on to consciousness. I feel like I am slipping away. I’m so tired. Darkness is swallowing me, sleep blanketing my mind, muddling my thoughts and understanding. I vaguely feel the concern in Alex’s voice. “Ellie! Remain awake!” he growls. I feel a nip, no, a bite on my back which momentarily sharpens my senses. Was it the horse?

“Elissa! Keep looking into my eyes, angel! Please!” I hear him imploring me. I want to do it, I really do, but my eyelids weigh a ton, and I can’t seem to keep them open; sleep is slowly beckoning me like a siren. “Open your eyes!” h
e shouts his order, but his voice is getting distant. Darkness is coming through the tunnel…A familiar tunnel with a dull silvery coating. I feel him jerk upright, and push something into me as his nails rip the back of my shirt and scrape me hard. Liquid warmth on my back makes me think of a lazy flow of crimson blood. But I can hardly feel the pain. Alex swivels his hips and his erection digs and rubs me through his pants and mine. Oh, what a sweet feeling! I want this. But I want to sleep too. A sad, sweet melody is beckoning me, continually calling. It’s a call I can’t resist, a familiar sound. I feel compelled to heed the call; really need to soothe that pained soul. Then I feel the calmness of a blue sea, rocking me gently… I hear it all in the soft chorus of voices.

“
We’ll tell you your future, and your past too.

You’ll hear it to your heart’s content, and what gods willed for you,

All that comes to pass on the fertile earth, we know it, and we know you most of all.

The roars of lions are too tame for the herds of howling Cerberus
…”

As soon as I feel the sharp, stinging pain on my lower lip, the beguiling voices slightly drown and fade into the background. I taste the coppery, salty taste of blood in my mouth, and swallow a familiar moan. I’m forcefully jerked back when I want to go forward to hear the voices again. I turn back, trying to break away, make my way to the mellifluous sirens. But the suddenness and the force of the sharp ripping of my clothes and speed of which scratch my buttocks and legs, drawing blood halts me, tugging me back.
There’s a sudden piercing sensation, a sharp spearing and deep penetration…into my sex. I’m too sore, too tired, yet I want this instinctively. But the sirens… they’re calling me, promising me serenity, calm, and no existence. I am tugged to and fro. I want to go forth, and want to remain back. Another moan, louder this time, and I feel him going in and out of me relentlessly, without the gentleness he’s shown me. Rough, hard, methodical, precise, knowing exactly where to pound, waking me up to my core, insatiably driving into me, and I want him. I want to respond. I find my lips molding over his slowly at first, distracted. I hear two distinct eagles in the distance drowning the sounds of the beckoning song. He pushes hard into me again, deeper this time and I find myself helpless trying to reciprocate the intensity of his thrusts.

“Look at me, baby!” he orders as he rocks me up and down on his pulsing erection. My eyes open in small slits, and his pupils are so large, they nearly cover all the blue of his irises. “That’s my girl!” he whispers and takes my lips again as my eyes open. The second our eyes, and consciousness lock, we both fall with a speed I don’t think is survivable, sucked into a pale blue shimmering depth, our joined bodies pour into the fabric of time, melting as one soul; revolving around us is a smoky silver blue substance. Our fall is unstoppable, inescapable and velocious. I don’t know how long, how far or how many years
of distance we travel. I scream, but I feel the steely tight arms around me, and an invisible but strong tie binding me to him, reassuring me that I will be safe. I hear no words other than my silent scream in my head as no sound comes out of my mouth. Then I feel myself jerk back like a skydiver when he first opens his chute up, suspending our fall. I feel him, but I don’t see him. We are suspended in time, and in place. I finally feel my limbs again, but it’s too late; they’re heavy, achy and motionless. Each cell in my body is burning as if acid is coursing through my veins. I’m in bed and dying. But, wait! That’s not me. It’s a breathtakingly handsome young man. My heart lurches immediately, grieved. My eyes, no, his eyes are closed. I want to detangle myself from him. There is a tie that binds me to this dying man preventing me from abscinding. It confines me to him. Visions rush through my mind’s eyes. I am one with this man. His miseries are mine. I gasp for air, and try to open my eyes. Nothing happens. I don’t have the strength enough for that simple task.

“What is your name?” I hear a distant voice booming urgently, commanding me.

I want to say Elissa, but my lips move on their own volition. “I don’t want it…” I say…
no
, not me; those are
his
words silently spilling from his lips as he shakes his head murmuring in delirium on his death bed. It takes me a while to distinguish myself apart from him. “I want…” he says in a forced shallow breathing. I feel someone leaning into me. Into
him
to hear. I instantly know that he’s one of his trusted marshals. I know this because he knows it. I know what he knows, I feel what he feels, and I see what he sees. At this moment he is more myself than I am.

“
What is it, sir? What can I do for you?
” a male voice asks into his ear. I know it as I know my own body that he doesn’t have the strength to blink his eyes, but with Herculean effort he does it once. Sweat covers his skin in large beads.

“I want…Elysium…” he whispers almost silently; but his
soldier can’t hear him.

“Elysium, you shall not get,” the deep voice of the unseen face says urgently. “The weight of your sins tips all the scales. You will be dragged to Hades,” states the voice, imploring him. But what is the voice pleading for? Why should he grieve over this beautiful man’s punishment if that’s what’s coming? A soft exhale escapes his mouth. I want to hold his hand, but I am him, and he is me. I feel as he feels, but I also feel for him; I am two souls in one.

“I am the son of Zeus. I am not subject to the
Divine Laws
,” my ethereally handsome dying man says to the unseen face speaking through his thoughts.