Time's Echo: A CHRONOS Files Novella by Rysa Walker Read Free Book Online Page B

that I
remember, so I keep my face as neutral as I can.
    "And today is…?"
    "July…" She runs her hand over the top of her key
to check the date. "It's July 14 th . You're saying the last year
is a blank?"
    I shake my head, wincing when the throbbing increases.
"No. Like I said, I remember some things. It's like a jigsaw with a bunch
of pieces missing. We had a fight. I don't know why, though."
    There's a long pause, and then she moves closer.
    "Just a silly lover's quarrel. You don't remember any of it?"
    "No," I say, even though I remember every detail
of that conversation.
    She smiles slightly, then runs her
hand along the side of my face. Her eyes are too wide, too bright, her
expressions exaggerated like she's performing on stage. I flinch at her touch, then remind myself I need to put up with it. If Kate's
somewhere out there, and I have to believe that she is , Prudence probably knows where. Sticking close to Pru is the best chance I've got
of finding Kate.
    Pru moves even closer, sliding her hand down to my chest.
"We cleared that up months ago, babe. It was all my fault. I told you I wanted to see other people—that we should take a break. I
was wrong. I figured that out pretty quick. You were right when you said we
belong together."
    The words are correct, but she's managed to flip the
conversation entirely on its head. I can still see her standing in the corner—a
much younger Pru, barely twenty years old—screaming You're mine, damn you. You can't leave me. We belong together, beforeher
pride finally kicked in and she told me to go to hell.
    "We do belong together, Kiernan," she continues
when I don't respond, turning in toward me and pulling her leg up over mine.
"It's always been you."
    I've seen that look in her eyes many times before. While
it's tinged with more than a bit of madness now, I'm sure that if I give her
even the slightest encouragement, she'll be out of that black dress, determined
to kiss and make up. Among other things. That's
definitely not going to happen, but I need to stall as long as possible before
I let her in on that bit of information.
    I place my hands on her shoulders and push back, just the
tiniest bit. "Pru—no."
    Her eyes narrow and then she shoves me, hard. The back of my
head whacks against the wall behind the bed. Even though it's not the spot that
was injured, the impact still has me reeling.
    "Damn it, Pru! Why'd you do that?"
    She just stares at me, her face morphing from anger to
confusion to remorse in a matter of seconds. And these expressions look
genuine, heartfelt, unlike the clownish ones she's been wearing. It's almost
like watching a small child who hasn't learned how to hide her emotions.
    Then she takes a deep breath and her mask is back up.
"I'm sorry. I…you frightened me for a moment."
    The hell I did. She was just pissed that I said no .
    So I rephrase, very carefully. "Please let me finish,
Pru. I want to make this right with you, but I can barely remember the past
year. My head feels like it's been trampled by a herd of elephants. I'm still
covered in blood and mud and god knows what else. I need a shower, sleep, food,
aspirin—or something stronger if I can get it. Maybe then I'll remember more
and we can…talk."
    She stares at me for a long time before she speaks.
"You're right. Let's get you to Nuevo Reino .
June can check out your head and repair any damage. There's a lot going on
right now and we need you back on your feet."
    Nuevo Reino —or the Farm, as most
of us call it—has been the main Cyrist compound since the early 1900s. My mum
and I were among the small group of Cyrists who merged with a larger group
called the Koreshan Unity, when they relocated to a
remote settlement in Florida in 1895, a few months before I turned ten. A guy by
the name of Cyrus Teed was the leader of the group and he called the place New
Jerusalem. I don't know if Saul chose the name Brother Cyrus with this guy in
mind or if it was just a wild coincidence, but