Eternal Embers Of Love E-Book

Valencia Rose

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Romance, Mystery, Time Travel adventure and more is what you'll experience as Meghan, a time healer, travels through time to the mysterious city of New Orleans to enlist the help of scientist, Logan Dupré'. The story maintains a steady and intense pace that will leave you coming back for more!

Leseprobe

Eternal Embers Of Love

By

Valencia Rose

Table of Contents

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

All rights are reserved. All characters are fictitious in this story and no reference is intended to any person living or otherwise.

Copyright 2023 @ Valencia Rose

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Chapter One

The Tracers were just coming through the door when Meghan stepped into the time window and into the year 2000. Her heart beating fast she ran through the maze of graves that held the bodies of the citizens of New Orleans. A light flashed and she looked over her shoulder. A couple of Tracers had just stepped out of the time window. She tripped on a stone and fell, scraping her hands and knees. Pushing herself up she ran behind a mausoleum and leaned against its walls.

Breathing hard, she pushed a button on her wristband and a shield of the same configuration as the mausoleum appeared. She held her breath as the first Tracer walked passed her. He didn’t notice that the mausoleum was longer than the others in the cemetery. Meghan slowly let out her breath as she waited for the other Tracer to pass. As he went by her, she saw the dart gun in his hand. Putting a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp she watched until the two Tracers were out of sight.

She waited another few minutes before pressing the button on her wristband and removing the shield. Meghan sidles her way to one side of the mausoleum and peeked around the corner. The Tracers weren’t there. She sighed in relief and looked at her hands. They were already healing. She brushed off the tiny stones from her hands and knees and keeping her eyes and senses alert she started walking following the faint music coming from the Quarter.

~*~*~

LOGAN WAS TIRED AND frustrated, everything seemed to be going wrong and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it happening. Flames seemed to dance around his eyes and lick through his head, and the intensity of the pain distracted him from his job.

He weaved his way through the crowds, pushed his way in between a very large man in very tight jeans and an even larger woman in a shimmering gold dress. The air about him was alive, jumping to the sounds of party crackers and various musical tunes. But it was also permeated with danger, almost bubbling to boiling point. It was his job to hunt it out and destroy it at all costs.

If he had to, he knew that he would risk his life if it meant easing some kind of peace into the atmosphere. He knew he would give anything for peace. There was no sense of peace in the air that night, no matter how hard he tried, and he could not shake the tension building in his shoulders despite the party atmosphere around him.

He had received a call from an anonymous source claiming the murder of a friend. The source had revealed that the murderer had hunted them down before attacking, and while he had escaped the other had not been so lucky. Logan worked on gut instinct and his gut instinct told him to listen. And so here he was walking the streets of New Orleans in the hope of catching this villain before things moved too far.

On a hunch he turned off the main street and found himself walking down a small alleyway, the noise drifted slightly, although it was just as lively, but the heat vanished completely and things became cold. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his long black coat as he slowly moved forward.

He heard a noise and knew it was a bad idea, but he continued on anyway, moving further and further from the crowds and deeper into the dark. A figure stepped out behind him, and he sensed it as he whirled around, his coat tales flying about him as he adopted a defensive stance. The stranger’s face was hidden in shadow, but Logan was sensitive enough to recognize power and danger when he was faced with it. This man was somebody and he was about to attack.

"No weapons." the stranger said, disregarding his gun. Logan did the same, safe in the knowledge that he kept a knife tucked into a small scabbard around his ankle. They flew into action, arms striking out at each other, the assailant kicked out and Logan fell backwards, seconds later he was back on his feet and charging forward. He dodged from side to side as punches were thrown, letting the attacker strike before returning the blow.

The pair were backed up against the wall, Logan had the advantage, with his forearm pressed against the man’s throat and then he felt the blade slip between his ribcage. The fire in his head exploded and he stumbled backwards. He pressed his hand against the wounds and encountered the sticky substance, he’d been in this situation too many times and yet this was different. This time he knew it was fatal. He looked up at this man who had stabbed him and recognized the evil in his eyes. He was lost as firecrackers sounded around him.

Logan didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious but when he opened his eyes an angel floated above him. He tried to smile but because of the pain all he could manage to do was grimace. He tried to speak but the angel put a finger on his mouth and shook her head.

Meghan knelt beside the big man and tore a piece of cloth from the hem of her long shirt. She pressed it against the man’s wound to staunch the blood. When she’d run into the alley and stumbled over him, at first she thought he was a drunk but then she noticed the sweat on his face and he was shivering. Sensing there wasn’t much time left for the big man, she leaned down and spoke. “Can you move? We must get you to a hospital!”

Logan shook his head, “No. No hospital. Take me home,” he said weakly. Meghan looked into the man’s deep blue eyes for a moment then nodded at his request. She riffled his pockets and took out his wallet. She looked at the man’s driver’s license. His name was Logan Dupré. He was 6’’2, blue eyes and black hair. He lived not far from here, but she new she couldn’t drag him.

Stepping out of the alley, Meghan looked up and down street to make sure there were no Tracers that could impede her saving this man. They weren’t there. “GOOD,” she thought. She looked across the street and spotted a taxi. She put her fingers to her mouth and whistled loud to be heard above the lively music coming from the bar across from the alley.

The taxi driver lifted his head and saw Meghan standing there. She bade him to come and went back to the man. Meghan wrapped the man’s long coat around him to hide the wound then moved and squatted near his head. The angel but her hands under his armpits and started dragging him. The pain grew worst and Logan lost consciousness again.

The man who lay in the bed before her was dying. It was very clear that he had lost far too much blood and was growing weaker with each breath that he took. This was the man that she had come for, and now that she had the dart she could go no further without him. There was only one thing that she could do, and while it was unthinkable she knew it had to be done. She needed him.

She reached into the pocket concealed in the sleeve of her T-shirt and withdrew a tiny-sheathed dagger. Slowly she removed the protective cover, revealing the translucent weapon. The light caught inside it as she brought it to her palm and swiftly sliced through the skin, it was so smooth that she barely felt the pain. She then repeated the action on his palm. He flinched in his unconscious state but his eyes didn’t open, not even for the slightest moment. Before she had time to think about her actions she brought their palms together, squeezing as tight as she could until she had no more strength and her arm weakened, letting go of his hand.

She had successfully transfused her blood into his, returning his life to him. This man was the only person who could save her people and she couldn’t give that up even if it meant breaking the rule her people had lived by for centuries. A rule that stated clearly that an immortal could not give life to a mortal through the merging of blood. The fact that she broke it now merely proved the dire state her people found themselves in.

Meghan sat for an age at his side, the wound on her hand had long since healed and disappeared, and she was merely waiting for the completion of his regeneration. As she sat she studied him and the environment that he chose to live in. She brushed a hand through his hair pushing it away form his face, he had wonderful hair and for a second she allowed herself to think of nothing but him.

His skin was soft and smooth and she couldn’t help but trail the back of her fingers over his cheek until she felt the stubble that had been allowed to grow along his jaw. This man was something else, he was from a time different from hers and he exceeded all of her expectations.

He had risked his life because he believed so strongly in something that he would listen to a stranger to get it. While he knew nothing of her time or her cause he had already risked his life for them, for it was a Time Healer that had been murdered and a Tracer that had hunted him down. She had given her blood to him because this man was too strong for her to let die. She played a strand of his hair between her fingertips, amazed by its luxuriously dark length, when his eyes opened. She saw the confusion and the recognition in his eyes when his fractured whisper came, "Angel?"

“Angel?” he whispered. His voice was so weak as was his body but he felt so relaxed. Waves of pleasure were shooting through his body. He felt the gentle touch of a caress through his hair.

Where was he, who was this beautiful woman, looking down at him with passion in her eyes? He reached his hand up behind her neck and brought her lips to his. He kissed her softly, tasting her warmth. She resisted at first then matched the rhythm to his. Her lips were like pure silk; her breath was warm and enticing. Hmmm I surely must be in heaven, with this Angel. He fell gently back on the pillow and dreamt of sweet kisses and glorious green eyes.

Meghan O’Leary was stunned. She’d never before felt such emotion with just one kiss. She watched as he slept and thought how wonderful it would be to be kissed again. Her body was alive with emotions she never knew she had. Time passed slowly as she waited for him to awaken. The day flashed before her and wondered what she would do next. Where did the Tracers go? Will they know we are here and come for us? But more than anything she thought of this man and the desire to kiss him again.

The sounds of the outside world were filtering through the room. New Orleans is considered the town that never sleeps. Logan woke refreshed, feeling much alive. The room was bright with the morning sun as he swung his feet to the floor. He froze and noticed the woman asleep in the chair next to his bed. Thoughts raced through his head. He was running like a wolf through dark alleys feeling hot and cold, feeling a searing pain go through his body, a kiss so gentle and green pools of passion.

Chapter Two

Confused, he gazed at the young woman. She was very beautiful. Her hair was long and wavy. It framed her heart-shaped face. He reached out a hand and let his fingers touch it. It was so soft. And the color wasn’t red it was auburn. His mother had had auburn hair. He wondered what color her eyes would be when she opened them then as an image of her flashed across his mind he knew they would be green.

More images came to him as he remembered her from the alley. He quickly looked down at his side and gasped in surprise. The cut the assailant had given him was nearly healed! The wound had closed. There was only a thin red line now. How could this be? He frowned and looked over at the woman again. Had she cured him?

He remembered feeling his life ebbing away and then seeing her above him. Then the pain had been too much and he’d given in to the darkness. Logan raised his eyes and looked around. He was in his room above the tavern. How had he gotten here? He stood and walked across the room to the window. He peered out as he stretched. He felt strong and alert. His senses seemed more heightened then before. Logan heard a sound and turned.

“Good morning,” she said. “You’re feeling better I see. I’m glad the procedure worked. I was afraid it wouldn’t.”

Her voice was the first thing that struck him when she spoke. It was soft and musical. A lilting accent that struck a familiar cord but which he couldn’t place. And that worried him. In his line of work he had learned to place people immediately, to size them up and file it all away, yet this woman with her red gold hair and her witching eyes eluded him.

Procedure? It struck him then as the events of the night before crashed down on him. He drew in a sharp breath with remembered pain and Meghan jumped up in concern.

"No! Wait." And he held up a hand to her as he tried to gain his bearings. "Why am I not dead? I should be dead. I was in an alleyway for heaven’s sake with a knife in me. I KNOW I died. What happened? Where am I? " His voice rose sharply. He stared intently at the woman who was gazing back at him calmly, as though unaffected by his tirade. "I remember you. I thought you came to me in a dream - you know, angel of mercy, that kind of thing. So, what am I doing here now, what "procedure" are you talking about, and what - " lifting up his hand to show the newly formed scar, " - is this?"

Meghan really dreaded this; she’d spent hours last evening trying to think what was best to tell him. She started to explain and was distracted with his eyes. They were the deepest dark blue she had ever seen. They reminded her once many years back when she was on flight duty at the Tempest Space Center. She remembered like it was yesterday, walking down the long corridor until she reached the massive doorway. She hesitated not knowing what she would find behind the door. Why was the commander so eager for her to come here? She was tired of learning the ways of the Time Healers.

She stepped back ready to run, but her heart knew she had to go on, he said it was the final test. Her people needed her. She pushed the control panel on the wall and listened as the doors swooshed open.

Never before had she seen color so vivid in all her life. Before her was a tranquil lake the bluest she’d ever seen! She walked on, heard the door close and knew if she turned around it would be gone. Her feet moved on their own until she reached the edge of the water. She looked down and could see forever. She gazed around at this peaceful setting and knew at once; this was what the commander wanted her to learn. Peacefulness. Serenity.

She sat down on the plush green grass and felt it’s softness and gazed out onto the beautiful lake. She felt the breeze touch her skin, closed her eyes and prayed to the Keeper of the stars. ‘Give me strength I pray, help me on this journey I am to take. Let me follow in your guidance that I will bring a new beginning to our universe. My heart is heavy and I fear that I need your help more than ever to watch over my people and me that together we can build a new existence. Much later as her body felt healed she walked back the way she had came. When the doors opened her commander was standing there with a smile and open arms. She felt herself leaning up against his old body, knowing that it will be some time before she would feel this kind of placidity.

The sound of banging brought her back into focus. His eyes turned to the door and he looked at her with surprise. “Who is it?” he bellowed.

“It’s me Johnny let me in!” Logan went to the door and opened it wide.

“Man, some night you had last night, who was that pretty girl that helped your sorry butt to the house? Man, she’s a looker! You must have been off your rocker to get that drunk with a girl like that. I bet you don’t remember a thing, do you?”

Johnny reached in Logan’s refrigerator grabbing a beer and as he turned around that’s when he notices her standing by the bed. “Oh man I’m sorry I thought, Um... well... I guess I should be leaving. Thanks for the beer, Logan, we’ll talk later.”

The door quietly shut and Logan had never moved. His eyes looked at this woman and he said, "How do you know Big John? Wait! First tell me who you are, and why are you here?”

“My name is Meghan O’Leary, Commander of The Time Healers. I met Big John as you call him last night. He helped me get you in his cab and up to your apartment. And to your question earlier, you were dying until I healed you."

“What? Dying? If I were dying, I wouldn’t be standing here with an almost healed wound,” he said as he pointed to his side.

Meghan didn’t know what to say, and for a split second she thought about not answering him and running to get as far away from him as she possibly could. This man with the amazing eyes and the soft hair scared her more than any Tracer ever had. What was worse was that she knew it wasn’t him it was the way he made her feel.

He stood before her now, expecting, waiting and while she knew he needed her to speak to make everything better she also knew that she could never do that. She understood that whatever she told him wouldn’t make things easy, it would throw his world upside down to know that he would never grow old, that he had been forced to become a part of a world that was at war. That he had been forced into her world.

"Last night you were stabbed. The wound was fatal. I found you on the brink of death in an alleyway and, as I said, Big John helped me bring you here. There was no other way to save you so I made you immortal, like me." She knew as soon as she’d said it that she couldn’t backtrack now.

"Immortal? Yeah right! What is this? Some kind of joke? You made me immortal - what does that mean? Who the heck are you lady?"

"I told you my name..."

"It’s not your name that bothers me, I want to know what you’re doing here and I want to know why I’m not in morgue right now, give me an answer and then we’ll take things from there." He crossed his arms over his bare chest and the movement brought her focus from his face to his tanned and muscular torso. She took in a deep breath and forced herself to look back up.

"Alright, I’ll explain,” she sighed. “I am a Time Healer. My people and I go back in time to help those who become like us cope with their immortality.”

“Time Healers? Go back in time? Are you telling me that you’re from the future?” he asked incredulously.

Meghan nodded, ‘yes.’ “I’m from the year 3256. My brethren are but one faction of the New Interstellar Alliance. Rogue groups in NIA that call themselves Tracers are intent on obliterating my people. Yesterday I escaped the Tracers sent to kill me through a time window and entered your time.”

“Time window, your time, my time...this is impossible. There’s no such thing as time travel! And Immortality! No one can be immortal,” he said as he paced around the room. Logan was confused, he knew he should be dead and this woman, if she was to be believed, had saved him. He didn’t know what to say or how take this woman. He decided to go along with her story, not quite believing it but not knowing what else to say.

"We are a small tribe. The Tracers believed that our immortality is an abomination, that we are impure. They have developed a serum that kills immortals.”

"So why make me immortal?” he asked.

“I made you one of us because I couldn’t let you die," Meghan explained.

“So what you’re saying is that I...that you...How?”

“The procedure is very simple. I mix my blood with yours. My immortal blood regenerates within yours and becomes a part of you. You live when you would have died."

Suddenly Meghan’s face paled and she closed her eyes. Logan thought she was going to faint so he rushed over and pulled her into his arms. Pain knifed though Meghan’s head and she grimaced. The Tracers were nearby she could sense them. She opened her mind and heard their distinct footsteps. The heavy chained boots marching in unison. ‘How had they found her?’ she wondered. ‘She had been so careful.’ They were no longer safe here. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, “They’re coming, and we have to go.”

“Who’s coming?” he asked.

“The Tracers. They’re nearby. Open your mind and you will sense them,” she replied.

Logan complied, closed his eyes and opened his mind. He felt a twinge of pain in his head and was suddenly bombarded with sounds from outside his room. He heard the vendors hawking their wares on the street below so clearly he was amazed. Every little sound drifted into his mind. Then he heard sounds that shouldn’t be part of his beloved New Orleans. Heavy chained boots walking in unison. They were marching and the sound was getting louder taking over all the other sounds from below.

“Heavy chained boots, marching?” he asked as he opened his eyes and looked down at her.

“Yes, that’s them,” she said as she steps out of his embrace and grabbed his shirt and long coat from the chair and threw it at him. Logan automatically caught them and put them on. He was still stunned that he felt no pain when he knew he should have.

"We have to hurry. Is there a back way out of this place?" Meghan asked.

“We can go out the tavern’s back door,” he replied as he retrieved his wallet and gun from the bedside table then pulled on his boots.

They went to the door and Logan pushed her behind him as he opened it and peeked into the hallway. Meghan followed Logan as he led the way down the tavern’s back stairs to the back door. They stepped outside into an alley. Logan pulled out his keys and walked over to his Jeep Cherokee.

They got in and peeled away just has the Tracers stepped out the tavern’s back door. Logan kept his eye on his rearview mirror as he drove down Madison Street. He knew New Orleans like the back of his hand.

He looked over at the woman seated next to him and wondered if he should believe her story. She had been right about someone coming, he’d seen them himself when he’d looked into his rearview mirror. They’d been dressed in some kind of suit that looked like it had been painted on them. They had short hair like he use to have in his army days. They’d even walked kind of like the army. He hadn’t seen their eyes because they were wearing dark glasses.

He cleared his throat and she looked at him. “Who were those guys back there?” he asked.

“They were Tracers,” replied Meghan.

“What are Tracers?” asked Logan.

“Tracers are a rogue group in the NIA, the New Interstellar Alliance. They hunt down immortals because they believe we are an abomination that we are impure and are contaminating society on all the worlds that are part of the NIA. They have managed to create a serum deadly to immortals. Now they’re after me and because I mixed my blood with yours to save your life they are now after you as well,” she explained.

“After me!” exclaimed Logan. “I still don’t believe this cockamamie story about immortals. If there were immortals walking around, wouldn’t everyone know about it?”