I came in from class, dropped my bag on the table and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. It had been a long day. I was so focused on everything else going on in my life that I hadn’t been concentrating as much on school as I should. I got a history test back and found out I had received the first ‘C’ of my life on a test about the French Revolution. That seemed ironic since I was pretty sure my soul lived through the war, and might have even been revolting along with the revolutionaries in France. Luckily, my grade was higher than the people who didn’t show up for class at all—which seemed to be happening in all of my classes lately. Western State had even started offering free flu shots.

There was also all the information I’d learned from Alex, Emil, and Tate. I was a little preoccupied about the possibility of being evil reincarnated. On top of that, there was the new information about the soulvows, and the lingering issue of the two men in my life: who I wanted to be with, who I could let go, and when I’d have to decide. I’d thought the tension between them was getting better, but lately, the more time I spent with each of them and the more intimate I became, the more irritated they both got. I was going to have to make a choice. I wished someone could make it for me.

The only good thing about today was that Tate had been sidetracked by a World of Warcraft tournament going on in the College Center, so I’d been able to escape being babysat—at least for a while. This morning, when he’d shown up to escort me to classes, he’d said Emil would be around later.

Today was definitely a peanut butter cup day. I grabbed a bag and slumped into the couch, unfolding a metallic wrapper and popping a cup in my mouth. I took a minute to think about how good the smooth peanut butter, sugar, and chocolate tasted. I’d planned to turn on the TV and get lost in some mind-numbing show, but I got sidetracked by my thoughts again. I was staring blankly at the fireplace mantle like I’d lost my mind when Jasmine walked in. She stopped as soon as she saw me, and the gold foil blanket I’d created with peanut butter cup wrappers.

“Hey, Evie,” she said, dropping her bag and moving slowly toward me. “What’s wrong? You look like you need some Prozac—or vodka.”

I could have answered her question with a variety of things. Like: well, Jas, you don’t know this, but reincarnation is real and my soul’s been alive a really long time. I also have special superpowers and no one knows why. Oh, and there’s a chance I might be an extremely lost Goddess, or the reincarnation of the most evil Goddess in history. Also, I got a C on my history test.

Instead, I went with the easiest answer, and the one Jas would understand the most. “Men,” I responded. It wasn’t a lie. They were vexing me too.

“Ah,” she said, grabbing an energy drink from the fridge. “So you haven’t slept with them yet.”

I shook my head. “It’s getting awkward.”

“Are you going to make a choice between them?”

“I can’t. It’s a huge choice, Jas.” Bigger than she realized. I wasn’t choosing who I wanted to date, I was choosing which of them would be out of my life—forever. “I’m not ready to choose.”

“Are you still dating them both?” she asked, sinking into the couch.

I nodded. “They take turns.”

“Who had the most recent date?”

“Alex, for Valentine’s Day.”

“Ooooo,” Jas said in a high, sing-song voice. “What did you do?”

I popped another peanut butter cup and answered around it, “We almost had sex in a barn.”

She looked at me like she thought I was kidding. I stared back, letting her know I wasn’t. I threw a piece of candy to her; she’d need it to come out of the shock. She unwrapped it, ate the candy slowly, and said, “He tried to take your virginity in some hay?” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Well, I guess if it was done right, it could be okay. Has he been reading historic romance novels?”

I thinned my eyes and lips. “Does Alex seem like the type of guy who reads historic romance novels?”

“Are you kidding?” She crossed her legs, putting her hands in her lap. “They might not admit to it, but I bet guys read them all the time. And if they don’t, they should. Romance novels are like a step-by-step guide for getting laid. Besides, where else would he get the sex-in-a-barn-would-be-fun idea?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t get that far, anyway. We went horseback riding and started kissing after we put the horses away. He said he wanted to take his time. We lost a few articles of clothing before we were interrupted by the farmer’s wife, who told us dinner was ready.”

Jasmine thinned her eyes in thought. “Horseback ride, kissing in a barn, romantic dinner. I bet he’s been reading Eloisa James. Check his library next time you’re at his mansion.”

The thought of Alex reading romance novels was as out of character as me driving a Smart Car, but now I was curious about what he really did read. Regardless, he seemed pretty adept at the lead up to sex. He probably got training somewhere, and I doubted the Amaranthine offered a class. That was not something I needed to think about, though. Not at all.

“What about Emil?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t had almost-sex with him for a few weeks.”

Jas laughed out loud. “Know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think we need to do something fun. Get our mind off things.”

I studied her face, the dark circles under her eyes, and clothes that hung looser than usual. “Are you feeling up to it?”

“Yeah. Zach and I can’t seem to get rid of this flu, but I’m feeling better today.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “No wonder you’re sick. I bet you both keep giving the virus to each other. Maybe you should stop having sex for a while.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not gonna happen.” She lifted her hand for another peanut butter cup. I tossed one to her. “I think it’s from working in the nurse’s office so much. It’s great experience, but I’m surrounded by sickness. The day after Valentine’s Day was the worst. People were coming in complaining of fatigue, fevers, headaches—I think they all overdosed on chocolate.”

“Chocolate overdosing might be worth getting sick.” I was glad Jas was feeling better for now. “All right,” I answered. “What do you want to do for fun?”

“Let’s go tubing!”

“Like on an inner-tube? In the snow?”

“Yeah! There's a place about fifteen minutes from here. The tubes are tied to a rope that pulls you up the mountain, and then you slide down. They also have hot chocolate and food. Western State students are always up there.”

I hadn’t heard of it, but I’d been a little preoccupied lately. “Are you sure you’re okay to be out in the cold?

“Eh,” she shrugged, “I’ll be fine.”

I watched her closely. “Okay. That sounds fun! When do you want to go?”

She thought for a minute, mentally going through her schedule. “Tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me.”

She got up from the couch. “I have a study group in the library, so I have to go. Let’s meet here tomorrow at three, though.”

“It’s a deal.”

I was working on my computer when Alex came in, his shoulders hunched, mouth drooping slightly. His jacket wrinkled at the set of his shoulders.

He dropped a stack of books on the table. “What are these?” I asked.

He looked at me with a bleak expression as he shrugged off his coat. “Research.”

Oh. Right. Research about me. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Part of me wanted to know what and who I was; the other part felt like everyone viewed me as a disease that needed to be diagnosed and cured before I took out all of humanity.

“What did you find?”

He breathed out a deep sigh. “That’s the problem.”

I raised my brows, inviting him to go on.

“It’s not what I found, it’s what I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He slumped down in a chair. “I found the records about your past lives dating back to Cassandra—which I already knew, because I lived them with you. Before that, there’s nothing.”

I stared at him, working through the information. “Well, that could be a good thing, right? It could mean my soul was born with my Cassandra incarnation.”

He nodded once in concession. “Could. Or, it could mean there’s a reason they’re not available.”

I knew where he was going with that. Like someone took the records, or destroyed them. “I don’t like the conclusions people will jump to when they find out about that. And by people, I mean Tate.”

“Yeah, me either. So I brought these.” He nodded at the books.

“What are they?”

“Homework. Thousands of years of Amaranthine and Daevos history. Since Callista has only been missing for five hundred, we can start with that.”

My mouth fell open. I thought research papers were bad. This was way worse. I looked from the books to Alex. “I can think of better ways to spend our time.”

His lips lifted slightly. “I’m sure they’d be far more entertaining, but for now let’s concentrate on the goal.”

“Which is?”

“Keeping you alive.”

…Whoever I was.

I poured over the books for hours. There was far more material than I could get through in a week, or even a month. But I did find some interesting things. According to the book, a Fallen Goddess wouldn’t have as much power as the Amaranthine Goddesses, which coincided with what I knew about Callista. But Callista had enough power to create the Daevos. Now Clans were figuring out how to create additional power on their own, using Trackers like me. Maybe Callista knew about the power channeling abilities Trackers held long before the Daevos Clans figured it out.

The other thing I found—and by far the most interesting—was the legend of Super Trackers—my nickname, not theirs. From what I could tell, these were Trackers of immeasurable power. Of all the leads surrounding what, or who, I might truly be, this one seemed to make the most sense. Unfortunately, there was no other information given about them. They were literally listed in a book as Advanced Trinity Trackers: Trackers of immeasurable power. That was it—one sentence. I’d keep looking for more details. For now though, I felt better about my chances of not being Callista. I hoped Alex, Emil, and Tate agreed.

I’d been staring at the books so long, my eyes had started to blur. “I need a break. Do you want something to eat?”

Alex looked up. “Sure.”

I went to the kitchen and took some spaghetti and sauce from the cabinet, but the glass bottle slipped from my hands and dropped to the ground. Crap. I bent down to clean up the mess, slicing my hand on the glass. Blood welled on the wound and I grabbed a towel to press against the cut as I started to fall into a memory.

The argument was out of control. Men were yelling, taunting. Ladies stood by helpless, watching the altercation. Other men were trying to break it up; it was hard to tell who was who. In the turmoil, I recognized one of the men. The Duke of Blackwood, Emil Stone. I’d met him recently, and had been drawn to him ever since. I watched as he was pushed from the crowd and staggered into the gardens. I looked around me, checking to see if I was being watched. The chaos of the fight provided ample opportunity to leave without notice. I moved through the gardens, the scent of flowers perfuming the air. I found him on a stone bench, next to a display of hundreds of beautiful greyish purple rose bushes. A small fountain bubbled next to us, the noise peaceful in comparison to the brawl we’d abandoned.

My eyes traveled over him as I sat, assessing him for injury. I paused at his lap, noticing a gash on his knuckles. “You have blood on your hands.”

He met my eyes. “Yes. I do.”

Abruptly, he turned away.

I wetted a handkerchief with water from the fountain and took Emil’s hand. Something sparked between us and I gasped, eyes wide. Emil shared my expression. I looked down quickly, concentrating on my task. I gently brushed the crimson stain away until the wound was clean.

“I’d hoped to impress you with my wit at our next meeting,” he said.

My lips lifted in a soft smile as I placed my hands back in my own lap. “You impressed me with your fists instead.”

He grinned. “Well, let us hope the next time involves less fighting—assuming there will be a next time?”

I smiled coyly. “I imagine that is likely inevitable.”

He grinned again and reached behind me, plucking one of the pretty greyish purple roses from the bush behind us. He stripped it of leaves and thorns. “Thank you,” he said. He reached up and lightly pushed my hair away from my face, his fingertips grazing my cheek. He tucked the rose behind my ear as my heart raced.

“Until we meet again, beautiful Cass.”

I came out of the flashback to Alex’s voice. “Evie?” he said, running into the kitchen. “What happened?” He took in the room quickly, looking for potential threats with military precision. He saw the bright red sauce splattered across the light colored floor and white kitchen cabinets. He shifted his examination to me. “Are you okay?”

I held onto the countertop as I stood and took a deep breath. “Yeah.” I walked into the bathroom, washed the cut off, and then covered it with a Band-Aid.

“What happened?” Alex asked, his lips turned down in concern.

I shook my head and bent down to start cleaning up the mess. “Nothing. I just had another flashback.” I pushed him out of the way so he wouldn’t be in my cleaning path.

Alex sat at the dining room table and watched me, concerned. “Another? How often does this happen?”

I’d told him about the flashback I had when I first touched him, then Emil. But I hadn’t mentioned the flashbacks since. The overbearing look on his face told me he was about to start telling me what to do. I had visions of Alex trying to revoke my driving privileges for fear of me having a flashback behind the wheel. That would cause another fight. I shrugged. “Often enough.”

Alex seemed annoyed. “And you didn’t tell me?”

I picked up all the glass and threw it in the trash, then got some paper towels and started cleaning up the marinara. “Why would I? They’re my memories. It’s not something I need to keep you updated about.”

“They could help us figure out what you are!”

“If I had any flashbacks I thought would help in that department, I would have told you. So far, it’s only been flashbacks to my life as Cassandra.”

He stared at me, assessing. “What was the one you just had?”

All the sauce was off the floor now, so I got more paper towels, water, and cleaner to finish the job. “It wasn’t about you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Who was it about?”

I looked up at him from the floor, my hair swinging around my face. “They’re my flashbacks, so it stands to reason they’re about me.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Only you?”

I really didn’t want to tell him I’d just had a flashback about Emil. “That’s none of your business.”

I could see his jaw working. That never meant anything good. “If it was about me, you’d tell me. So you had a flashback about Stone. How many of your memories have starred him?”

He’d called Emil “Stone.” Also not a good sign. “It’s not a contest, Alex.”

Judging by his narrowed eyes and determined expression, he seemed to think it was. “How. Many?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t keep a running tally.”

“You should. When was the last time you had one about me, Evie?”

I thought about it for a minute. “In the barn, on our Valentine’s Day date.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly, interested. “What was it?”

“You and I were racing horses. We were young. It was at your estate, and your mom was there.”

Several emotions crossed his face all at once. “That was the only flashback you had that day?”

I nodded.

A muscle by his eye started to tic. “What was the flashback you just had about Emil?”

I breathed out a deep sigh. “It’s not important, Alex.”

“It is to me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

“Not doing what?”

“Getting in the middle of another pissing contest between you and Emil over something that doesn’t matter. They’re my flashbacks. My memories. How many I have, and who they involve is none of your business.”

“Yes,” he said, teeth clenched, “it is.”

I held my hands out, palms up. “Why?”

“Because your flashbacks are helping you determine who you want to spend eternity with.”

“They’re not the only thing I’m taking into account, Alex. They’re just another tool to get information.”

“I want to know what they are and have the chance to explain my side.”

I raised a brow. “Are there a lot of things that need explaining?”

He pursed his lips.

“If there’s something I have questions about, I’ll ask.”

“Have you told Stone about them?”

“That I’ve been having flashbacks?” I asked. “Yeah. He knows.”

“Have you told him what you’ve seen?”

“Not recently,” I said, adding, “and he respects my decision.”

Alex gave a humorless laugh. “Of course he does. Because Emil can do no wrong.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I got up so we were closer to eye-level with each other. “Stop getting so territorial and upset. If it wasn’t for Emil sending me to the Amaranthine for protection two hundred and fifty years ago, there’s a pretty good—almost certain in fact—possibility that I wouldn’t even be alive. You should thank him instead of berate him.”

He glared at me. “You may be right, but that doesn’t mean I like him any more than I did before, or that I ever will. There’s a part of you kept only for him that I’ll never have.”

I was seething. “There are many parts of me you’ll never have. You don’t own me. How many times do I need to remind you of that? You have a place in my life and my heart, but so do a lot of people, including Emil. Don’t assume you’re all there is, and don’t ever ask me to give up someone who means a lot to me. If you do, it’s the quickest way to lose me.”

For the first time ever, Alex seemed speechless. I took advantage of the silence. “Listen, Alexander, if you really want me to be with you, you need to stop trying to tell me what to do. You think you’re protecting me. You’re not. Instead, you’re trying to control me and make me second guess my choices. I’m a smart woman and I trust myself. Our relationship won’t get to the point you want it to unless you learn to trust me, too.

“You constantly manipulate our relationship by making decisions that affect both of us without consulting me. We can either make choices together, or I won’t be with you.” I was so angry, I could hardly contain myself. I knew what I wanted to say and knew just as certainly it would send Alex over the edge, but I had to be true to myself. “If this is how you acted the first time I had to decide between you and Emil, no wonder I chose him.”

I knew Alex would be mad, but I wasn’t prepared for him to shatter the chair he’d been sitting on with his bare hands. Afterward, he stood, strangely calm for a full minute, the blood rushing to his face. He crossed the room in two long strides. He leaned over me, muscles rippling, his imposing frame a heavy shadow over mine, and simply said, “We will discuss this. Later.” Then he walked out the door.

I decided to watch a movie to get my mind off Alex’s stage five pissy fit. I was on my second hot chocolate, and halfway through the movie, when I heard a familiar knock. Emil smiled as I opened the door. “Hey, beautiful.”

I smiled back at the compliment, and because I was happy to see a face that wasn’t annoyed with me eighty percent of the time.

Emil came in the house. He saw the paused movie and snacks on the table before noticing the chair remnants in the dining area. “What happened here?”

“Temper tantrum.”

“Yours?”

“Do I look like I could break that chair?”

“You have been taking karate.”

“We haven’t covered chair chopping yet.”

He grinned. “Alex, then?” I nodded. “What was he mad about?”

“What isn’t he mad about?”

“Good point.”

I thought I better give him some background, though, in case Alex took it out on Emil the next time they saw each other. “I had a flashback while he was here. It wasn’t a flashback about him. He got pissed.”

“Ah.”

“He’ll probably be pissed at you by proxy. Just a warning.”

Emil smiled. “Thanks.”

I noted that Emil didn’t press me for details about my flashback, even though I’d implied he was the memory’s star.

He disappeared into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” he asked.

“No, thanks.”

He came back holding a can of Pepsi. “Where’s Tate?” he asked, looking around. “He was supposed to be with you until I came back.”

“World of Warcraft tournament on campus.”

Emil rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t have made a very good protector.”

“I doubt he’s very motivated. He’s convinced I’m Callista. He thinks people need protecting from me, not the other way around.” I shifted the topic. “What did you do today?”

“I was checking the information Tate gave us about Callista not being seen for over five hundred years.”

I leaned forward in anticipation. “And?”

Emil put his can down on the coffee table. “Tate was right.”

I blew out a breath, discouraged.

“It doesn’t mean you’re Callista, Evie. We’re still looking at options. We’ll keep looking until we figure it out.”

I nodded, staring out the window but seeing nothing as I absently drank my hot chocolate.

Emil’s phone buzzed. He got a worried look on his face. “What is it?” I asked.

“Alex. He says there’s a problem. I need to go to his house.”

I nodded, slipping my shoes on and grabbing my coat.

“Are you coming with?”

Considering how Alex and I had left things earlier this afternoon, I wasn’t sure I should, but I wasn’t being left out of yet another conversation. “Yep.”

Emil nodded once in acknowledgment. “Okay. You might want to bring a stun gun, just in case.”

I widened my eyes. “Would that work on him?”

Emil laughed as we walked out the door.