Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (27 page)

CHAPTER VIII

RISING DUST

Alexander Aurelius Pella

“Oh, Alex! The view is simply spectacular! I thought your ranch was on the desert,” Elissa gushes when she looks at the valley below.

             
“This is still the desert, but the water can be transformative. The house is situated on a unique geological location; there’s subterranean water, the surrounding mountains create a different climate and it is secluded. It’s cooler than the surrounding desert.”

             
“Breathtaking!”

             
“Come on, since we've had a late lunch, we can do some horseback riding. I want to show you something,” I say to her a little nervously.

             
“Okay,” she says and I take her hand to get downstairs from the second floor terrace. Turk and Desertwalker are waiting outside in the SUV. Turk left another Conquest Knight running for me. I open the passenger door for Elissa, and let her climb in. Then I take the driver’s seat as she curiously looks on.

             
“We don’t have far to go,” I say smiling. I drive on the paved road for a time, and then I make a detour and turn onto the dirt road.

             
“Does your ranch have a name?” she asks tentatively.

             
I swallow. “Yes,” I mutter. She looks at me expectant when I don’t continue.

             
“It’s Anemoi,” I say softly and hesitantly, not knowing whether the name would awaken a reaction in her.

“
Anemoi?
” she asks in a trembling voice. Her demeanor changes to apprehensive. She shakes her head to clear the disbelief that’s going through her face, to give me what? A chance to explain? She takes a shaky breath as her hands hold the door handle. Is she going to bolt out of a moving vehicle? Although I know the doors lock automatically and will not open while the vehicle is in motion, my eyes still drift to the locks to make sure.

             
“After the gods or the winds?” she whispers in a barely audible tone.

             
“What do you mean?” I reply to her question with a question of my own, though I know exactly what she means. I want to hear it from her.

             
“
Anemoi
,” she says in a barely steady voice, “...is the name of the four cardinal winds, and the collective names of the gods of those four directional winds. Boreas... Zephyros... Notos... Eurus...” she says softly. Her words are staccato.

             
“How do you know that? That’s not commonly known information... well, not in English anyway,” I respond trying to calm her down. She shrugs; her gaze doesn’t meet mine, but is focused on her boots.

             
“My uncle made sure I studied Greek Mythology throughout my entire life and well... I’ve majored in Linguistics.” Huh... Her revelation that Gabriel encouraging her to learn the Ancient Greek myths takes me by surprise and my stoic mask slips away for a moment. I’d not have thought Gabriel would encourage that information knowing it would bring her closer to me and understanding our past had he really intended to keep us apart. Why would he do that?

             
“So,” she continues her questioning trying to hold her voice steady, “your ranch... is it named after the gods or the winds?”

             
“Generally it would be one and the same. But in this case, it’s the winds,” I reply, my gaze fixed on the dirt road ahead. 
Winds of Time
. But she doesn’t need to know that. As I drive forward, I can see the SUV occupied by Turk and Desertwalker in the rising dust behind us.

             
She clears her throat. “Just out of curiosity, what made you choose that name?” she asks. I can feel her intense gaze on me this time. Hopeful, scared, curious, disappointed and determined. Why would she look disappointed?

             
I finally reach the stables; pull the SUV into a space reserved for cars and trucks to park. I shift the SUV’s gear into park, and without turning it off, I shift my body to face her, examining her gaze. My expression is unreadable. What would I tell her? That it was the name of our last home together, 
The Four Winds
? Can I tell her the truth? I can’t get a read out of Elissa. I can read most everyone like an open book. If I could get any indication that she remembers us, the two of us together, then I would. How torturous is it that I have to conceal our past from her. I keep reminding myself that it’s only for the time being. Nieto’s last warning comes to mind unbidden.

“When you see her again, she will not remember you in your new skin. Should you force that knowledge on her before the seeds of her memory blossom in its natural course, you risk breaking and dissipating the seeds I’ve managed to insert in her and she won’t remember anything. Should that occur, your children will be lost forever. Only she can unlock the door that’s been locked behind them,” he said.

“What if someone else informs her of it, and they break the seeds? What the hell will I do then?” I asked barely controlling my anger and sorrow. I
 didn't know which one would finally take over.

“No one will be able to. They will silence the moment they mean to reveal anything. That was the last gift from Marcus for her.”

“Why can’t others and I can?” I ask, partly relieved after this revelation.

“Because your bond supersedes all others; including the one with her angelic father which is forged in heaven. Yours
on the other hand ties her to earth through your earthly mother and to heaven through your angelic father. I can read your essence clearly branded in the depths of her soul...” he said in a lilting voice. “It’s unlike any other heavenly or earthly bond she may have forged with others. What you have with her is both her blessing and her curse... the outcome is up to you, Alexandros... If you force feed your past into her, her memories of your collective past will dissolve like a sandcastle in the tide, and the tie to your children will be lost forever. Let the memories come to her, and they will when the time is right...” he said and disappeared into the haze.

Closing my eyes tightly, I shake the memories away, and simply shrug at Elissa in response.

             
 “This place is unusual. Receives the four directional winds in such a way that it makes the climate unique. I’ve had the land for a long time. So, it was only fitting,” I respond nonchalantly, desperately hoping that she remembers 
The Four Winds
 Ranch we had, and me as her husband, her first and only lover, the father of her children. I forbid myself from revealing the intensity of my feelings, the desperation I am feeling for her to remember. Your body remembers me Elissa, why won’t your mind, angel?

             
“Really?” she asks tersely, making me flinch. “This place is called 
The Four Winds
, and you’re telling me that this place is solely named for the winds? It’s got nothing to do with Sarah?” she asks her eyes wide, angry and disappointed.

             
“Sarah?” I ask, taken aback. How would my ranch’s name be somehow about Sarah? “Why would the name of my ranch have anything to do with 
her
?”

             
“Why? You have to ask? I’ve been having dreams, and nightmares which I stupidly told her!” she says regretfully her shaky hands covering her cheeks. “She probably told you about my dreams, didn't she? Is she mocking me now? Or trying to tell me that I really am crazy?”

             
“Angel, no!” I say in a soothing voice. “No, baby! It’s got nothing to do with her,” I say in a soft, pleading voice. She shakes her head as she closes her eyes. She’s shutting me out.

             
“Is that the best answer you've got, Alex?” she asks in a barely audible voice.

             
“That’s the only answer I’ve got! I’ve never met Sarah until last night!”

             
“How about your name? Is it Alex? Alexander? Is that fake too?” she asks.

             
“Good God! No! There’s nothing fake about my name. I’m Alex Pella. Why would you think that?”

             
“Is the job a ruse? It explains why I met you in the morning, and got a job with you in the afternoon. In the same evening Sarah tries to capture me to deliver me for some ancient sick sacrificial shit, and tries to kill me, and you end up saving the day! Is this a...” she says her lips quivering and she’s unable to bring the rest of her sentence. She has the look of disappointment in her face. Disappointed in me! She opens the SUV door, and rushes out, running.

             
“Fuck!” I curse my epitaph and swinging my door open, I run after her.

             
I hear the fast running two pairs of other footsteps behind me. 

             
“Elissa!” I shout after her. “Please stop! Give me a chance to talk to you!” She doesn’t stop and keeps on running down to the edge of the trail. She’s fast! Very fast, but not faster than I am. She leaves a dust cloud behind her. She runs into the horse corral, and instinctively whistles. I slow my running steps into a brisk walk and stop, and hold my arms to stop Turk and Desertwalker.

             
“Wait...” I say firmly. “Don’t chase her. I don’t want to scare her off. I’ll go after her. You stay here.”

             
“But Mr. Pella...” interjects Turk.

             
“No! You are to stay!”

             
“Sir, please. You know everyone’s after her!” he pleads. He’s right of course, but I don’t want to scare her any more than she already is.

             
“I’m enough to protect her on the ranch!”

             
Turk and Desertwalker look at each other, and both blow out a long exasperated breath, but say nothing, hold their hands up in a surrendering gesture, and take two steps back. Elissa stands on the fence, and whistles again. I want to see which horse responds to her. Four horses are saddled for the ride I was intending to take her on before she ran off. They’re in the corral among the unsaddled horses. 
Bucephalus
, my own horse lifts his head upon hearing her whistle, and goes to her in a fast trot, recognizing her! The ranch hands had saddled him because they knew I was going to ride him today. Two of the ranch hands run out of the barns to stop her, but I get to them faster. They know Bucephalus’ wild nature.

             
“No! Bucephalus knows her! Let him remember...” I say.

             
“But, sir! He knows all of us, but he’d kill us if we were to try to ride him!” Jason protests.

             
“Step back, man!” warns Maximus in a gravelly voice as he captures Jason’s shoulder with his iron grip knowing what I say goes. Then, he takes a second look at Elissa and his eyes widen in recognition. Then he turns his questioning gaze at me. Jason’s struggle turns his attention back to the young ranch hand.

             
“Max, 
B
 will hurt her!” Jason repeats trying to shrug Maximus’ hand off his shoulder. Maximus is a Nephilim, but Jason isn't.

             
“Trust me... He won’t hurt her! Watch and see!”

             
“Fuck you, man! I can’t watch a girl being trampled by Mr. Pella’s demon of a horse! Don’t say I didn't warn you!” he barks, and stalks by the barn’s gates.

             
Elissa pauses and rubs Bucephalus’ mane and looks at his large white star on his brow, then slowly caresses it. Bucephalus snorts and shakes his massive head and sniffs Elissa’s extended hand; his large lips nipping her palm as if to seek the usual sour apple she used to bring him. Bucephalus is my very temperamental, dark stallion, his head held high, his tail curved upward, and his wavy mane always seems to float up and down in every prancing gait. The other horses instinctively give him ground, because he’s the lord among horses. But he won’t let anyone ride him except me. In fact, not only will he not allow a stranger to ride him, but he would resist, spin and attack any one of the attendants who attempted to mount him. I am apprehensive about her proximity to my horse, but also incredibly mesmerized, I’m almost transported back in time.