Page 27 of Killer of the Bells
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 ahmphworthy 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 himif 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.
