Echoes in Eternity (The Pella Series Book 1) (74 page)

“The revolution unmistakably benefits our kind by eliminating the low ranks.”

“Low ranks?” he hisses, though the effect is as if he shouted to the top of his lungs. “Only yesterday Marquis Rousseau was sent to the Bastille!” His mother ignores his remark.

“Do you know the trouble I have gone through to ensure that you have the top spot for Nephilim
s as well as our human station within the
Alliance
? You are of age, and I assured your near immortality! The seed you spill is valuable. Don’t waste it on her until you bring forth your heir! Perhaps tonight and this week, you can indulge in her. But, just remember that this is the most important ball of the century. Why do you think I’m giving it? Alliances are formed, money is made, land is acquired, prestige and titles are kept. You, my son shall rule all our kind in Europe, Africa, and Asia.”

“My Lady, I will rule nothing if I can’t have Elissa beside me!” he retorts.

“Must I spell everything out for you? You need a bride of higher station! You don’t need to have fidelity to your bride, but you need a bride who will breed your heir! It’s your duty! Not only would it be scandalous for you to marry this girl from the land of savages, but none of the allegiances would work if she’s in the equation. She can never be under the protection of our name! It was simply made clear to me this morning.”

The Duke gets an intense desire to defy his mother, leave the family name
.

“By whom, pray tell! And don’t prevaricate! You make plans for
my
life;
my
existence as if spending the eternity with someone I don’t know or care about is a good thing for the purpose of breeding while all those I love will pass on! How do you suppose this is a gift to me? I love Elissa! Most ardently!” he turns to the queen viper with ferocity. The Duchess exhales in a chastising sound then waves the fan before her face once, and when she removes it. Her eyes are fixed on her son and not even the intricate Venetian mask can hide her fury.

“The undying love and devotion are elements you will regret. If you want to love anyone, love your own heir, your title, and your station in our society! Who is her father? Who is her mother? Who are their associat
es? Beauty is fleeting, love is a disease.
Name is everything
. Our station requires title. Just the fact that her father actually works in the trade business would be reason enough for you to surrender your title!” she says in a low menacing voice without even changing her demeanor as if she’s talking about a nice day in the park. “You must produce an heir. Until that is accomplished you will fuck someone from your own station. Once you have your heir, you can fuck the untamed girl to your heart’s content! Don’t force me to change my mind where I won’t allow you to fuck her tonight or any other night!”

“Allow me? My lady, I already asked her to marry me! And I shall marry her!
I’m only expecting her answer tonight!” She pushes her mask to show the disgust in her son’s declaration.

“There are quite a few beautiful girls who are in their first season here tonight. Girls, who are not only
beautiful, but wealthy, titled and come from aristocracy. Yet you not only choose the one who is marked for death but the one with tainted blood! You will never mix that into our family!” she hisses fixing her son in his place. I feel the white hot embers burning in the Duke’s veins, yet he’s unable to move. What is his mother talking about? Tainted blood? Marked for death? Is this a nightmare he can’t wake up from? Torturous pain and agony takes over his body, making him feel like he’s going to explode. He sees Elissa through the veil of bloodshot eyes taking the last four steps up the grand staircase in my arms. The mental effort to break free of his mother’s imprisoning gaze lets him take half a step towards Elissa. He feels the urgency to warn her. The urge to take her from my arms and get her as far away as possible from his mother who acts like the devil took over her body and mind. Everything he’s ever known suddenly feels overwhelmingly strange. His back arches as if his mother yanks an invisible chain tied to his neck. Pain bores down his muscles, his nerves, and every cell in his body like a calf prodded with a thousand branding irons at the same time. He makes the herculean effort to clutch his head and his cries are lost in his mind.

To Elissa, he appears he is disgusted to see her from our position. The reddened face as if he’s ready to puke his guts out at the sight of us is disturbing to both of us. I almost feel sorry for him now. Until Elissa’s former self turns to me and whispers, “Alex, he seems displeased to see me. I don’t understand. He invited us to the ball. Do you think we ought to go b
ack?” she asks.

“We are here now Elissa. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“The Duchess looks unhappy. Maybe she doesn’t want me to accept her son’s proposal. She made remarks that I was beneath their station even if I had possession of all the money on the continent!” Elissa says as her breathing rapidly increases. Fucking Duchess, I think to myself! I have the highest title in this fucking joint and I can’t even declare it.

“Shhhh…. Calm down,” I smooth her gloved hand gently. “Elissa, you don’t have to say yes to anyone. You’re quite young. Why do you feel compelled to accept his proposal?” She looks at me longing then averts her gaze which I now recognize to be love for the first time. She loved me then!
She loved me!
How the hell did I miss that? How stupid could I have been? She broke the walls her father erected before I did!

“At least he loves me and
is not duty bound to me…” she murmurs barely audible, her voice is accusatory. “Besides, I might have lost my…” she says and shakes her head slightly. “Never mind!” she says and fixes her face to greet the Duchess and the Duke. Lost what? What did she loose? I see my own dumbstruck face through Duke’s bloodshot eyes despite the black mask and my curved brim hat. I’m coming to the ball as a cowboy with a mask like Zorro’s.

When we make
pleasantries before the Duchess, she ceases the torture she’s exerting on her son and her gaze rakes me over with a little feminine appreciation, and disgust thinking it’s too bad that I’m not of her class. Duke Courcillion’s meeting gaze with Elissa is one of anguish. He is unable to trust his vocal cords to say the right things or even make a sound after the torture he just endured which is not evident to either one of our former selves. I feel a pang of anger in light of this, because I should have been able to detect, sense or smell the Duchess’s dark tendencies. I have always known of our kind. I knew the Duke was a diluted blood as far as Nephilims are concerned and both of his parents were also Nephilim. But I now see that she is also a
Psyche
. Fuck! Why didn’t I see that before? Elissa quickly looks at me with worry. My face is impassive. Her manners take over and she dips into an elegant curtsey.

“Good evening my Lady, my Lord,” she greets the Duke and his mother. I briskly nod my head.

“And you are?” the Duchess asks raising her eyebrows. The announcer opens his mouth to herald my name again, but she shuts him up with a flick of her fan over his mouth. He looks chagrined and blushes deeply, muttering his apology.

“Alexander Pella. I am appointed as Miss Duncan’s security by her father, Monsieur Marcus Duncan.”

“You are a servant then,” she declares with her nose held high, her back stiff. Her gaze rakes me over with barely concealed carnal desire. But her words are cold as glaciers, and icy as the bitter winds of the peak of Mount Everest. “Servants are not to speak in my presence, or even get acknowledged. Yet, here you are, escorting an untitled young woman to Duke Courcillion’s masked ball, the event of the season in all of Paris,” she castigates severely, her chin raised high.

“My Lady I hardly need any titles, neither does Mademoiselle Duncan. We do not have aristocracy in our land. We Americans
take pride in meritocracy. And by that token, we’re the kings of our lands. Monsieur Duncan owns nearly six million acres in three states and two territories. He owns the water rights, and millions of heads of cattle, and horses. He’s the primary supplier of horse flesh, as well as beef for the US Calvary. He is also the only landowner who has not had any fights on his land with the natives. Not to mention, Monsieur Duncan is the owner of the biggest privately owned fleet of cargo ships in the west coast and is the primary supplier of goods in France from our West Indies lands. I assure you Madame Courcillion, we can buy your title and what you own many times over,” I say smiling sweetly.

“All the land in the wilderness regardless of its size will not equate to this chateau alone, you insolent young man!”

“I assure you Madame; your little island is no match for Miss Duncan’s wealth. Then again, any idiot would see that,” I say with a wry smile. Elissa looks at me with her mouth agape, her eyes wide. Courcillion’s eyes widen, the blood receding from them, and he makes an effort to say a word and the only thing that comes out is a deep sound that more akin to a growl.

“Do you disagree Duke Courcillion?” I ask him innocently. He ignores me, and offers his arm to Elissa. She takes it reluctantly looking back at me worried.

“In the future Mademoiselle Duncan, teach your servants to keep mum when they are near their betters.”

“Mr. Pella is not a servant my Lady,” Elissa says looking at me with pride. “Alexander is considered family.”

“You refer to him with his Christian name?” the Duchess asks incredulous. “He isn’t of your blood. This is scandalous that you come to
my
home with a young, virile man who isn’t related to you,” she says in a low voice. “Maximillian!” she utters Duke’s name with warning. He grits his teeth, and says nothing. I can feel the rage lapping inside him towards his mother, but the immense jealousy he feels about the way Elissa referred to me sinks into his heart like a rusty knife. He finally curtly nods at his mother before he walks away with Elissa. Elissa looks at me with a forlorn gaze and barely concealed heartbreak. Her gaze gives me a tormenting ache, tension and bitter jealousy. I detest the idea that she is going to be with someone else. I have not let my emotion rule me in centuries. It’s detrimental for Elissa’s well-being. But for the first time, I’m overcome with the electrical current running in my veins pulling me towards her. Other guests either turn their backs to them on the Duchess’s behest or avert their gazes. Fuck their blood and lineage. There’s carnage going on outside with nearly every aristocrat losing their heads to the guillotine, I’m almost ready to root for the revolution had Elissa not have feelings for the Duke if only they would destroy the queen viper.

“Mademoiselle Duncan, may I have a word with you?” Duke asks
holding his arm for Elissa.

Elissa looks up at me. I hold her hand that’s laced at the crook of my elbow.

“Can’t the American
meritocrats
make decisions without the aid of their servants?” says the Duchess sweetly, in a condescending tone.

“Since he’s my equal Madame, I respect and trust Alexander’s judgment, so does my father. If you scoured your entire lineage down to the very first title my Lady, you could not find his equal,”
Elissa says turning to Courcillion.

“Do consider her sentiments my young son should you decide to renew your question to her.”

The look he gives her is murderous, but I can feel the urgency he feels to take Elissa away from his mother’s presence.

“Please,” he mouths at both Elissa and I. I reluctantly let her arm go and closely follow them. I feel the swift movement behind us like the whooshing of wind after it
has ruffled everything you have on, and is gone. Suddenly every single nerve on my body is alert sensing imminent danger. What the hell is it?

CHAPTER XXVII

BOLT OF LIGHTENING

Elissa Cassandra Duncan