Page 36 of The Surviving Trace


  There’s no way to describe how it feels to have someone look you square in the eye and tell you when you’ll die and that all your hard work to build an empire just goes up in flames. I want to say it’s impossible, but I know Serene is telling the truth, and now I have to come to grips with it all.

  I glance at my brother. In three years, he’ll be dead.

  Dead.

  Our family is not immune to death. I understand that it’s part of life, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I swallow loudly and face my brother. “I know you said that you believed me about Serene, but now that she’s here, do you see I’m tellin’ the truth?”

  Livingston sighs heavily, drags his hands through his hair and drops into one of the chairs. “God help me, I do. You realize how impossible this all is?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And yet it’s happening,” he states flatly.

  Before I can respond, there’s a knock on the door. Serene peeks her head into the room before she steps in and shuts the door. After our talk, she changed out of her dirt-stained clothes and into a dress of cappuccino satin with turquoise chiffon layering. It loosely billows around her. Interesting how quickly she can transform into a person of this time. I’d prefer to think it’s proof she belongs here, but I have a feeling she rules the room no matter what era she resides in. All she needs is a scepter and throne, and she’d be in her rightful place as queen.

  “Nat knows something’s up with me,” she announces.

  “What makes you say that?” Livingston says with a curious detachment.

  “Because she keeps asking me all these questions about my ‘trip.’” Serene uses air quotes for the last word.

  “Can you blame her?” my brother mutters, but Serene hears him.

  She walks over to me and perches herself on the armrest of my chair. Livingston continues to inspect her as though she’s a bug underneath a microscope. Smiling, I lean back in my chair and lace my fingers behind my head. He’s still in shock she’s here, and I’m enjoying every second of his confusion. It serves as a minor distraction from the pressing matter at hand.

  “Stop looking at me like that, Livingston,” Serene says.

  “Like how?”

  “Like you’re doing right now! During dinner, you did the same thing. I’m still the same person.”

  “No, you aren’t,” he replies as he walks to the sideboard and pours himself a drink. “Not the Serene I knew, at least. Besides, I was lookin’ at you for an entirely different reason.”

  Serene crosses her arms. “And that reason would be?”

  “What I can’t wrap my head around is, when you left, why didn’t the Serene I knew and grew up with come back?”

  “It’s because we’ve changed the course of the future and the present with our actions,” I chime in. “Fallin’ in love and be—”

  Livingston raises a hand. “Wait a minute. You think love has changed the course of the future?” He snorts. “My God, Étienne, when did you become a walking cliché?”

  Serene and I don’t reply. Three months ago, my brother and I would’ve had a good laugh over the idea of love changing the fate of the future. Three months ago, I didn’t put much stock in that four-letter word. Now I know it holds so much more power and influence than I ever gave it credit for.

  Livingston stares between the two of us. “Will the other Serene ever come back?”

  I hesitate before I answer. “I don’t know, but I hope not.”

  “When I looked Serene up, the year of her birth was still the same, but the date and month were changed to mine. April 6th,” Serene says.

  That captures my attention. “Truly?”

  She nods. “That’s proof that your present day has been altered. I also looked up her parents, Frederick and Delia. There’s no trace of them. I don’t know how that’s possible, but there’s no info on them in my time. It’s as if they never existed.”

  “Fascinating,” Livingston murmurs.

  Serene nods then claps her hands together. “There are more important matters to focus on. Has Étienne told you about tomorrow?”

  Livingston frowns as Serene stares between Livingston and me.

  “No,” he replies. “He didn’t. What happens tomorrow?”

  Exhaling loudly, I stare at the carpet. “I die. Nat dies. Servants die in a house fire.”

  Livingston sprays his drink half across the room as he bursts into laughter. Once he sees we’re not laughing, he sobers up. Fast. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I’m telling the truth. In my time, I found the articles,” Serene explains.

  Livingston gives her an amused glance.

  “I know how you die too,” she says.

  He grins. “All right. Tell me. When do I die?”

  “In May 1915, during World War I.”

  Livingston’s reaction is similar to mine when Serene broke the news to me: disbelief, anger, then panic. Once he’s regained his composure, he looks back at Serene. “You’re truly serious about tomorrow?”

  She nods, her eyes sad.

  He shakes his head and leans against the wall. “Who or what starts the fire?”

  “That’s the thing. It was investigated, and the official cause was ruled an accident because of electrical issues. But I think someone did it. The article even says that people in Charleston were outraged.” Serene looks away. “Asa was one of them.”

  “So you’re tellin’ me that my two siblings are gonna die tomorrow?”

  “Yes, but we’re going to stop it. Tomorrow everyone needs to evacuate Belgrave. If there’s a fire, whether it be electrical or from a person, no one will be here,” Serene says.

  She gives me a warning glance not to say anything. We both know that if everything goes her way, I’m cheating death. But there’s no winning for me. Because if I live, she’ll leave. Possibly forever this time.

  “I think first thing tomorrow, Étienne should calmly tell the staff that everyone has the day off, or something to that effect, so no one is alarmed,” she suggests.

  Livingston nods. “All right. Then what?”

  Serene pointedly looks away from me. “Then we wait and…” She shrugs.

  I can fill in the blanks though. We wait for time to take her back.

  “Are you guys going to tell Nat?”

  “Absolutely not,” I reply.

  “Why not?” Serene challenges.

  “Because it’s too much for her to handle.”

  Serene tilts her head. “Your sister is not a fragile piece of china. She won’t break at the first sign of bad news. She deserves to know the truth.”

  “Serene’s right,” Nat announces from the doorway. “I do deserve to know the truth.”

  In unison, the three of us stare at each other in shock.

  Nat looks at each of us individually before she sighs and closes the door behind her. “Is anyone gonna tell me what’s going on?”

  Livingston looks at Serene, and Serene looks at me meaningfully.

  I take that as my cue and clear my throat. “You know how we said Serene was on vacation in Europe?”

  Nat nods.

  “That was a lie. She wasn’t on vacation. She isn’t even the same Serene we’ve known.” I proceed to explain Serene’s time traveling, her leaving and coming back.

  Midway through, Nat sits down. Her gaze occasionally shifts to Serene in amazement. The longer I talk, the paler Nat becomes. When I’m finished her eyes are as wide as saucers and her mouth is gaping. Hesitantly, Serene moves away from me. She kneels next to Nat and tries to hold her hand, but Nat pulls back. “I felt horrible lying to you,” Serene confesses. “There were so many times that I wanted to tell you the truth, but Étienne and I thought it was best not to.”

  Nat sits up straight. “Why? You think I didn’t notice something was different about you? You think I didn’t notice my brother falling in love with you? I saw all the changes.” Nat leans in. “For what it’s worth, I would’ve believed you.”
r />   “I know, and I’m sorry. But do you believe me now?”

  Nat watches her for a few seconds before she nods. “I believe you. You may look identical to the Serene I grew up with, but you act entirely different.”

  Serene beams at her then glances at me. “See, Étienne? I told you she could handle the news.”

  “You mean that was the bad news you were tryin’ to hide from me?”

  “Not exactly,” Livingston says, his voice trailing off.

  Glaring at him, I move closer to Nat. “In her time, Serene found out some shocking information about us.”

  Nat stares at all three of us. “What kind of news?”

  Serene and I make eye contact. She nods, and I reluctantly continue. “She found an article that says tomorrow, you and I will die in a fire here at Belgrave.”

  “What?” Nat whispers.

  “We’re not gonna let that happen. Tomorrow, we’ll vacate Belgrave. Us, the servants. Everyone.”

  Nat presses the heels of her palms against her eyes. “I can’t believe this. You’re tellin’ me that I’m gonna die tomorrow?” She drops her hands and looks at me with alarm in her eyes. “Is our family in danger? Is someone after us?”

  “No,” I answer, because I genuinely believe that’s the truth. I took care of the problem at work, and while Serene believes the fire is intentional, I’m on the fence. But I’m still disturbed by her claim. “And if we were, Livingston and I would protect you. All right?”

  She nods and exhales loudly. “So now we just wait?”

  “That’s exactly what we do.”

  “THAT WAS HARDER than I thought,” I say as I pace in front of the windows.

  Étienne shuts his bedroom door and faces me. “What was?”

  “Telling your sister and brother about tomorrow.” I whirl on him. “Did you see their faces?”

  “Yes. They were shocked. And rightfully so. Most people don’t get the chance to find out the precise day they’ll die.”

  “I know.” I groan and rub my hands down my face. “It’s the last thing I wanted to tell you guys, but I want you to be prepared.”

  Étienne is silent as he walks over to his dresser and empties out his pockets. He’s quiet, which is never a good thing.

  I watch him warily. “What are you thinking?”

  “That all my hard work has been for nothin’.”

  “It’s not for nothing.”

  He turns around and faces me. “Obviously it is!”

  I walk toward him and place my hands on his solid shoulders. Physically, Étienne’s a powerful man who could snap me in half with a flick of his wrist, but as I drag my hands down his arms and link our hands together, I can feel that the energy has been sapped out of him.

  “Étienne, we’re going to ensure that nothing happens tomorrow, okay? Not to you. Not to Nathalie. Not to Belgrave. Not to your business and everything you’ve worked for. That’s what I came back for.” I lean forward until our bodies touch. “I missed you desperately, but I had to warn you about what I knew.”

  Étienne nods. “Is there anything else you found out in your time?”

  Stepping back, I allow him to remove his tie. “I spoke to Asa’s daughter, Cordelia. Do you know she’s ninety-seven years old in my time?”

  Étienne goes a bit pale. “How many children does Asa have?”

  “Two girls: Cordelia and Josephine.”

  “Who did he marry?”

  “Someone named Eleanor.”

  At that, he arches a brow. “Eleanor Bringier?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  “More than likely. Asa has mentioned her before.”

  “Do you know that his daughter said Asa had feelings for Nathalie?”

  Étienne doesn’t reply.

  I poke his chest playfully. “You’re the one who put a stop to that, aren’t you?”

  He glances at me from the corner of his eyes as he yanks his shirt out of his pants and removes his cufflinks. He tosses them on the dresser and wraps his arms around me. “Of course I did. She’s my sister and too young for him. I know details about Asa’s private life. I’m just protecting Nat.”

  In the end, Étienne means well. It just comes off as controlling and a tad harsh. “Cordelia named her first child Nathalie,” I say.

  “That’s generous.” Étienne’s hold on me tightens. “Can we change the subject? It’s a bit outlandish for me to be talking about my sister in past tense.”

  “Sure.” My fingers glide up and down his back. “The night I came home late from Asa’s party, it was because I broke into his office and stole a ledger. Did you find it?”

  “Yes, I did. And you were right; I was being betrayed.”

  Abruptly, I back away. “What did you do?”

  Étienne drags all ten fingers through his hair and exhales loudly before he looks at the ceiling as though all the answers to his problems are up there waiting for him. “I confronted him, then fired him.”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Wow,” I breathe. For a moment, I was beginning to believe Asa wasn’t the culprit. The signs weren’t pointing to him. But now Étienne’s shattered that idea, and I’m back to believing it really was him.

  As I play over his words, Étienne is quiet. He unbuttons his shirt, and my mind goes on the fritz before it becomes completely blank. The past few hours have been a whirlwind, and the adrenaline is wearing off. I could fall back on his bed and sleep for the next two days. But staring at his exposed skin as me awake and ready to go. I couldn’t look away even if I tried.

  When you think about it, it’s a miracle I haven’t jumped his bones and wrapped myself around him like a coiled snake. All day I’ve reminded myself that there were more pressing matters to focus on, but we’ve talked everything over. And now it’s only the two of us.

  The air becomes charged. My chest rises and falls rapidly. From the way I’m responding, you’d think it had been years since I’ve been alone with Étienne. Or in his case, weeks.

  Étienne calmly stands there. The distance between us almost feels unbearable, but I won’t budge. I won’t beg. Even though I feel myself inexorably being pulled in his direction. I fight the urge.

  Feigning a sigh, I walk toward the door. “You’re getting ready for bed and don’t seem to be in a very talkative mood, so I’ll go to my room. Good night, Étienne.”

  I brush past him. My hand curls around the doorknob when he grabs my bicep.

  He jerks me back toward him. “You’re not stayin’ anywhere but here.”

  I arch a brow. “You didn’t say anything to me about that.”

  Étienne leans in until his chest brushes against my arm. “I thought it was automatically presumed. You know I’m not good with words.” I watch this big, muscled man squirm and look away like a six-year-old boy being reprimanded. He stares at me from beneath his lashes and says one word that has my legs shaking. “Stay.”

  I smirk, but I want to jump his bones. “That’s all you needed to say.”

  Étienne and I can never do anything gently. We’re fiery people, and it’s a miracle the room doesn’t spontaneously combust when we’re in it. My skin tingles when Étienne wraps his arms around my waist. He picks me up until we’re face to face and my legs are dangling in the air. My hands know right where to go and drape themselves possessively over his shoulders.

  “I missed you,” Étienne whispers. “Do you have any idea how much I missed you? You were on my mind constantly. It was driving me mad.” With his free hand, he tilts my head to the side. His fingers trail down my neck as he stares at me, a ferocious expression on his face. “Tell me how to get you out of my system.”

  I smirk because he’s trying to win at a losing game. “Tell me how to get you out of my system,” I toss back.

  He growls my name and kisses me greedily. I taste his anger, pain, and love and give him my own pent-up emotions until I’m whimpering, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. His muscles
jump beneath my palms. My hands are impatient, exploring every sculpted inch of him.

  His tongue continues to move against mine. He holds me so tightly I can barely breathe. As my hands explore his broad shoulders, I pull back and catch his full bottom lip between my teeth, making Étienne groan. He hitches me up higher against him, which rubs his dick to rub against me. I suck in a sharp breath.

  “Bed. Now,” I demand.

  Étienne eats the distance within seconds and drops me on the bed as if I’m a rag doll. I bounce a few times before I land on my knees. Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I watch Étienne. I’m waiting for his next move and he’s waiting for mine, and since I’m going to spontaneously combust if I don’t get my hands on him, I turn around and gesture to the row of buttons on my dress.

  Let the games begin.

  “Would you mind?” I ask, my voice innocent.

  “Not at all,” Étienne murmurs.

  I scoot to the edge of the bed and impatiently wait. Hannah always made quick work of helping me undress, but with Étienne, the process is tortuously slow. Each button that’s undone sends goose bumps across my skin, and when Étienne’s fingers brush against my spine, I have to bite back a moan. By the time he’s finished, my dress is gaping and I’m wet between my legs. But the buildup is always the best part.

  Quickly, I turn around and face Étienne. My sleeves slide down my arms. He hungrily follows the action with his eyes and steps forward.

  I lift a hand and hold him off. “Not yet.”

  Taking my time, I lower the sleeves until they hang from my elbows and I’m only holding the upper portion of my dress. Étienne’s hands flex and release, and I know it’s taking all his willpower not to pounce. I let go of the material, and it drops to my waist. The cold air makes my nipples harden. Étienne takes me in, his eyes imperceptibly widening.

  He loved the bra I wore the first time I time traveled. Judging from his expression, he loves my sheer red lace one too.

  I scamper backward until I’m in the middle of the bed, then crook my finger at him. That’s all it takes before he catches me around my stomach and pushes me back.