Chapter 8 #2
I eventually broke my reverie and climbed the tower, slipping through the window to see Echo putting his life on the line—once again—after I’d just made a deal with the proverbial devil to keep him safe.
I should have been outraged, but the intense look of concentration on Echo’s face as he worked on an elaborate trap had my mood change in an instant, so instead of shouting at him, I said, “There are easier ways to die, you know.”
Echo ignored me after seeing me, so I moved closer. I almost got his attention, but he ultimately decided not to engage, so I had no choice but to make it impossible to ignore me.
I got into his personal space and asked, “Is it common for you to be here?”
“Are you common?” Echo snapped.
Was that how he greeted strangers in improbable situations?
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said before moving across the beam, over to the wall. and scaling down enough to be able to meet Echo face-to-face.
Echo gave me an epic glare and said, “I never make sense.”
Untrue. After unintentionally getting into his head last night, everything he’d done had made perfect sense to me. But since he didn’t remember any of that, I had to put on an act, so I acted like I always did around people I didn’t know.
I was an absolute ass.
I put on a bored look and said, “When you fall to your death, do try not to make much of a mess. I like to come here to think, and that will be ruined if it takes too long for someone to clean you off the floor.”
Echo’s face screwed up into a look of intense frustration before finally saying, “Mean.”
“What did you just say?”
Did he remember me? How could he possibly remember me? No one had ever shaken off my memory spell. Maybe he told everyone they were mean. Many people were complete assholes around anyone who acted outside of societal norms, and Echo certainly ticked that box.
“Mean,” Echo repeated. Then he gave a hmph worthy of a high society matron and went back to his work.
“You’re not going to ask why a stranger is accosting you in such a place? Or don’t you care?”
“Not a stranger. Don’t care.” Echo steadfastly refused to look away from the elaborate set of ropes and pulleys he was working on.
My breath hitched. “You remember?”
“I remember.” Echo’s mouth was a hard line before he finally spat out, “Jerk.”
Well. Wasn’t that interesting?
Echo was a curious person to start with. Openly encouraging me to drink his blood, then switching to Wraith when he realized I might not kill him. Being utterly unfazed by his meeting with The Cody and then seemingly brushing off my spell like it was nothing.
Maybe I was losing my touch and should practice more like Wraith kept suggesting.
“What do you remember?”
Echo made a little growl and rolled his eyes at me.
“My apologies. Do you remember the woods with The Cody? Do you remember Gareth?” I wanted to provide him with enough vocabulary to respond, but I didn’t want to prompt him if he only remembered a little. I settled on only adding, “Do you remember more? A lot or a little?”
“A lot, a lot, a lot,” Echo said in a sassy, sing-song tone. Then he stuck his tongue out at me.
I was still unsatisfied by his response, but I wasn’t certain why. I studied him, trying to figure out what words I needed to speak to unlock the information that even I didn’t know I wanted.
Echo returned my regard with equal silence until finally he said, “I promise I’ll keep your secret.”
I froze.
Whatever he remembered was far more than he should. He’d said that the night before, and it was as unsettling now as it was then.
“What secret?” I asked, trying to be nonchalant.
“You.” Echo reached out slowly, holding tight to the beam with one arm, and tapped my chest directly over my heart. His eyes bored into mine, and I saw the answer he was trying to give.
Me. The real me.
As in, whatever was left after one stripped away all the pretension and defenses. An exhausted, confused, highly irritable person who had nothing in his life that he cared for more than finding a way to end it.
Only Gareth knew that person, and I wanted it to stay that way.
I snorted and said, “You’re crazy.”
Echo nodded, withdrew his hand, and grabbed onto the beam.
Echo’s limbs were shaking from the exertion of holding himself in such an awkward position, and I prepared myself to catch him if necessary. He really didn’t give a single shit about his life, did he?
Who was I to judge?
Except I didn’t like it.
Echo was a curiosity. In over a hundred years, I’d never met anyone like him, and after spending an evening with him, I doubted I ever would again. The world had an abysmal dearth of beautiful and unique things in it, and it would be a shame to lose the uniqueness of Echo.
So, instead of waiting to see if Echo’s body would give out before he decided to climb up, I scruffed him like a kitten and brought us both to sit on the beam.
I narrowed my eyes at the distance between the beam and the floor. The beam was barely better in terms of safety, so it was hardly an acceptable location for discussion. I glanced at my watch, saw I was nearly out of time, and made an executive decision.
“I need to leave before the bells ring. Come with me,” I said, holding Echo securely to my chest, and jumping to the floor. I heard the clang of a metal tool hitting the stone floor, and Echo cried out in wordless alarm. I carried him with me, unsure of my destination until I was nearly there.
I paused outside my wing of the collective’s house, staring up at the window Wraith and I had exited the night before.
I hadn’t bothered soundproofing my room because the bells were usually sorted in a few days, and I had a habit of spending those days in my lab if I wasn’t actively working to destroy them.
I chuckled softly. Gareth was going to be so annoyed by what I was about to do, but I’d deal with that when I had to.
Echo clung to me as I jumped to my window, but I didn’t think it was from fear. His face showed a mixture of interest and annoyance.
I ushered him through my window, and once I was through, I pulled him out of my bedroom, down the stairs, and to the door of my lab.
“I’ve brought a guest,” I said to Love, the house AI.
“Should I inform the collective that the world is ending, Vale? I’m sure they’d like to know.”
“Very funny.”
Vix may claim that Love’s personality is entirely her own doing, but the only other person in the house with that much sass is Vix’s partner-in-crime, Baz, and I refuse to believe it’s a coincidence.
If Baz was smarter, I’d accuse him of tampering with Love, but I assure you he isn’t. He’s not playing at being dumb to make people underestimate him. He really is as thick as he seems. He’s interested in chaos and Vix. That’s it.
Since I knew Love was about to inform the household—or at the very least, Vix and Gareth—of my guest, I told her, “Tell Gareth he can debrief me later. Everyone else can fuck off until further notice.”
Love may have been created by Vix, but she had to follow my orders in my wing. I wouldn’t allow her to be installed otherwise, so if I didn’t want it, even Vix couldn’t enter except during an emergency. It was a stipulation I’d insisted on before I gave the okay on the rebuild of my wing.
I dragged Echo through the door of my lab and closed it with three minutes to spare.
I was antsy with anticipation. Either bringing Echo to my lab was a good idea or a terrible one. Either way, it was better to find out sooner rather than later.
Echo looked around my lab with interest but kept his hands to himself without being told. Finally, he zeroed in on a wrench and pointed at it, himself, and then held out his hands in the universal, what the fuck, man? gesture.
“Your wrench fell when I took you from the tower?”
Echo nodded furiously.
“My apologies. I had to leave, but we needed to talk.”
About what, I was unsure. All I knew was that I couldn’t leave him hanging like that, openly courting death while I ran off, so I wouldn’t accidentally massacre the town if I lost control of the monster while the bells rang.
Of course, having him with me wasn’t ideal either. It was possible I should have warned him, but if I did, he might get excited and trigger me on purpose. Then he’d definitely die, and I was growing increasingly reluctant to let that happen.
I glanced at the time. One minute.
The effect would probably be mild. The monster in me hadn’t killed Echo the last time I bit him, so it didn’t want him dead. He might survive.
Thirty seconds. But he tasted heavenly. If I bit him again, I might not be able to stop.
Ten seconds.
Echo came up to me, and I backed away, holding out a cautioning hand.
Three.
Two.
One.
Chaos.
It wasn’t a sound.
It was so much worse.
Something intrinsic to me began to vibrate, and my edges and senses blurred. What was me became so much more.
Infinite possibilities unfolded and collapsed around me. My past, present, and future all happened in one moment, crashing around me and colliding, making it impossible to distinguish any one from the other. I forced myself to continue to breathe, staying connected to my body as much as possible.
The monster in me stirred, but rather than fully rousing, it was content to observe rather than act.
It would be over soon. I would survive as I had so many other times, only for some reason, it felt easier than it had the last time I’d endured it.
It was even worse for Wraith. With every tolling of the bells, Wraith became more like his name. I didn’t blame him for leaving town. I was more surprised that he’d stayed to observe Briar and Isa the first day instead of fucking off immediately.
The effect was muted for me since I was only fae-adjacent.
I’d gotten unlucky. Many part-fae creatures were completely unaffected by cold iron bells.
If they weren’t, then science would have come up with a name for it and labeled it as a rare, sound-related malady that caused psychosis in a handful of unfortunate people.