Echo, p.1
Echo, page 1
part #1 of The Elan Series
ECHO
He’s the one she’s been dreaming of, but is he the one she’s destined to be with?
Tara McAllister has her life figured out…until the visions begin. Derek Williams just wants to get by, as long as his gift doesn’t create a ruckus. When these two soul mates meet at a party, their connection is immediate, tangible, and explosive.
As their relationship heats up and their abilities grow stronger, Tara and Derek must overcome the objection of family and friends, the advances of former flames, and a secret that could ruin them both—if their love is to survive.
ECHO
Book 1 of The Élan Series
TRACIE ROBERTS
To all the lovers who believe it’s destiny
—you do have a choice.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
NEXT BOOK IN THE ÉLAN SERIES
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wicca, n. - a religion founded on the spiritual roots of pre-Christian European beliefs and practices that reveres nature and worships the Divinity in both feminine and masculine form.
Chapter 1 – Tara
As soon as the guitarist for Banging Amy hit his opening chords, the crowd surged forward and I was crushed against the metal fence separating the audience from the stage.
“Brynn!” My voice was lost in the rock music that ripped through the night air, as I fought to stay upright. A hulking, bald guy with tattoo sleeves elbowed me in the side as the wave of people moshed to “Down on You.” The flailing arms and writhing bodies that smashed into each other under the full moon would have made followers of Dionysus jealous.
“Tara!” I turned to see Brynn waving from twenty feet away. At five-nine with ginger curls she was easy to spot, but no way was I going to be able to shove through the leather and flannel to reach her.
I grabbed the fence and braced my feet to keep from being hurled into the iron barricade. Another wave of people surged into the front row and my arms gave way. I crashed into the metal partition, losing my breath.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered, “please get me out of this.” Another elbow caught me on the side of the head as my knees buckled and darkness took over. But instead of a blackout from the blow, a vision flashed behind my eyelids---the same one I’d had for the past three weeks---of a man I’d never met but somehow knew.
Trapped in my darkness, I was unable to protect myself from the pitch of the crowd. As glimpses of dimples and lips, unruly hair and striking gray eyes popped like camera flashes behind my lids, bodies rammed against me, shoving me harder into the steel divider. I clung to the fence, praying that the song would end, the chaos would subside, or my sight would return.
“Here, hand her to me,” a deep, raspy voice called above me, wrenching me from my vision. I opened my eyes to find myself being lifted over the barricade to a tall guy with brown, spiked hair and olive skin.
“I gotcha, darlin’,” he said, pulling me to his chest and carrying me to the side of the stage. He set me down against the wheel of an equipment trailer before producing a bottle of water. He poured some out into his hand and swiped his open palm across my forehead.
“Kev, grab me one of those ‘Warped’ tee shirts,” he yelled to a guy manning a mounted video camera. A few seconds later a shirt fell between us, and my savior doused it with the water before squeezing it out and draping it across the back of my neck.
“Better?” His gaze fixed on me, waiting for a response. I nodded, offering a weak smile as proof. “Just sit here a while and catch your breath,” he said handing me the half-empty bottle. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared around the corner of the stage, returning a few seconds later with a video camera and a bag.
As I watched him break down the camera from the tripod and load it into the bag, I noticed tattoos weaving their way down each of his biceps. He bent to zip the bag and his dark washed jeans stretched across his thighs.
“Think you can stand?” He stood and extended a hand. I pulled myself up on shaky legs and leaned against the trailer.
“Aaron?” The camera guy, Kev, joined us, his camera still pointing to the band on stage. His eyebrows furrowed in question at the Mediterranean god standing next to me.
“What’d you want me to do?” Aaron said. “Leave her there to get crushed to death?”
Kevin shrugged, as if it were a valid option, then returned to the edge of the stage. Aaron took my hand and led me to the far end of the trailer. The music, though still deafening, didn’t reverberate through every tissue in my body.
“You sure you’re okay?” He brushed a strand of hair from my eyes, his hand lingering at my shoulder before dropping back to his side.
My stomach flipped as his moss colored eyes searched mine. “Yeah,” I said, “I’m good. Really, I just didn’t expect to get rushed like that.”
“Well, they are Banging Amy.” He said the band’s name as if that alone was reason for the crowd’s insanity. “Come on.” He took my hand again and helped me through the gate and back out onto the lawn of The Park.
“Tara! Oh, my God! Are you okay?” Brynn rushed to us as we rounded the end of the trailer. Her glassy eyes glanced from me to Aaron, an edge of concern lacing her voice. “What happened?”
“She almost got trampled by moshers,” Aaron offered, placing a hand on my back. His touch steadied and comforted me as a sense of déjà vu tickled my consciousness.
Do I already know him? I shook off the feeling at Brynn’s gasp.
“What!? You were almost…” She struggled to finish her thought but the seriousness of the situation seemed to sober her. She fixed her eyes on me.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I said. “I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast. I’m fine,”
I reassured her. “Anyhow, Aaron saved me.” I turned toward him, noticing how his eyes followed my lips as I spoke. “He lifted me over the barrier and out of that insanity.”
“Wow.” Brynn staggered back and propped herself against the base of a light pole. “It’s a good thing he was there.”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning next to her. Like it was fate.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked placing a hand on my shoulder. “’Cause I’ve got to get back to Kevin.”
“I’m fine,” I said smiling at him. “And thanks for everything.”
“Here.” He reached into his back pocket and produced a business card. “I’m staying all night. I have to video Kevin’s brother’s band. If you stay, give me a call. Maybe we can meet up later.”
“Sure.” I took the card, glancing at the name and number. Aaron Thomas, Freelance Videographer. He waved bye, then disappeared around the corner of the trailer.
“Come on.” I pulled Brynn from the pole, noticing she wasn’t too messed up to walk straight. “We’ve got to talk.” I stopped at a picnic table away from the crowd and sat down hard on the bench.
“Okay, spill,” Brynn said, joining me. Her voice was level, clear, not slurred from the alcohol like I expected.
“The crowd wasn’t as bad as Aaron made out.” I shivered at the memory of myself being thrown against the iron fence by ravers, but telling Brynn about the vision was more important. “And…I had a premonition.”
“A what?”
“A premonition, a vision,” I said, “Of a man I’ve been dreaming about for a month now.” As I said it aloud, his features popped into my mind - unruly blonde hair, a stubbled jaw, a mischievous smile, and those penetrating gray eyes, eyes that reflected a missing piece of my own existence. My body quivered at the revelation.
“Tara, what are you talking about?” Brynn asked, oblivious to my surprise. “You’re not making any sense.” Her buzz was totally gone now and she stood, facing me.
I sighed. “Brynn, I told you last weekend,” I said, my voice tight. “I’ve been practicing Wicca for a year-and-a-half and I think something happened last month when I cast a psychic power spell. I think I’m seeing the future in my dreams.”
“Listen to yourself, Tara. Premonitions? Really?” Brynn crossed her arms in front of her. “When have you ever heard of real people having premonitions?”
“Actually, my mom told me that her grandma was clairvoyant.” I never expected to have to plead my case for being psychic to Brynn. I just assumed that she’d accept it. “Maybe it’s hereditary,” I added.
“Whatever.” Brynn waved her hand, swatting away my reasoning. “Tara, you’re treading dangerous ground dabbling in the occult.”
“It’s not the occult, it’s my religious preference,” I said. I stood to face her, crossing my arms in front of me. “And I’m not dabbling, I’m practicing.”
“Look, Tara. I don’t want to fight.” Brynn’s voice softened, but her body remained rigid. “Do what you want, but be careful that you’re not brainwashed. Those alternative religions recruit members just to ge t their money.”
I didn’t have an opportunity to tell her that I was a solitary practitioner. Aaron and Kevin showed up at that moment.
“That was quick,” I said smiling uneasily between Brynn and Aaron.
“Warped was on the second stage and only had three songs to play,” Kevin said.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Brynn asked, stepping closer to Kevin, disregarding our previous conversation.
“Brynn, this is Aaron,” I said, motioning toward him. “And this is Kevin,” pointing to the camera man whose surfer style had Brynn mesmerized. I stepped back and watched as she angled up to him and extended her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“Yeah, you too,” Kevin said. “Do you two, uh, wanna come to a party? At my brother’s apartment. Just fifteen minutes up the road.”
I looked at Brynn bouncing on the balls of her feet. Subtlety wasn’t her nature, and I felt like grabbing the back of her shirt to keep her from flying away.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. Brynn turned to me, her back to the guys, and mouthed, ‘What are you doing?’
“We don’t know you,” I said, ignoring her homicidal stare. “We’re not going to an apartment with a couple of strangers.”
“You’re right,” Aaron said glancing from Kevin to me and back. “We’re total strangers. But, I am a total stranger that just saved you from getting stomped in a mosh pit, so I can’t be all bad. Right?”
I squinted at him, considering, then smiled. “I guess not.”
“Then, how about we meet up at Club Rapture?” He checked his watch. “It’s only ten-thirty. Clubs don’t really get wound up until eleven.”
I looked at Brynn, her eyes widened as a pleading smile stretched across her face. I rolled my eyes, caving. “Sure. We’ll meet you there.”
Brynn beamed, clapping her hands like an eighth grader going to her first formal. The ride there was filled with her infatuated ramblings of what would happen if she started dating Kevin. Our previous conversation was long since forgotten.
*****
Aaron, Kevin, and a few others were waiting outside Rapture for us when we arrived.
Once inside, Brynn followed Kevin onto a crowded dance floor that was half-hidden by generated fog. Flashes of pink, blue, and yellow from the rope lights reflected in the wall mirrors. Aaron took my hand and scanned above the bobbing crowd, then guided me toward the bar.
“Damn, it’s packed in here,” he said as he claimed a bistro table deserted by a pair of Ivy League wannabes. His hustle earned us some dirty looks, but Aaron ignored them.
“You wanna beer?” he asked, shouting over the music. The song, energizing and provocative at first, became annoying after the fifth repeat of the pulsing techno chorus.
“A seven and seven,” I told the server, who flashed a distracted smile.
“Anything on tap,” Aaron said and turned back to me.
We made small talk about work and school and friends while waiting on the server to bring our order. I found out he was a film school grad student and I told him about getting ready to graduate and start teaching.
“Are you planning on staying in Knoxville?” he asked. The server deposited our drinks and took our money.
“Actually, I’m moving back to my hometown. I hope to work in the same high school I graduated from.” Lifting my glass, I took a sip and searched the crowd for Brynn and Kevin.
“And where would that be?”
“Franklin,” I answered. I watched Brynn sway with Kevin, wondering if she were really as into him as she seemed to be.
“No shit! That’s right down the road from Nashville.” He reached out and nudged my thigh, his hand lingering.
“Yeah, I know.” I turned back to Aaron, intrigued by his excitement. “I grew up there.” The pressure of his palm sent a quiver ricocheting through my midsection. I leaned closer, tilting my head and arching my brows in question.
“Well, I live in Nashville now, the apartments near Vandy.” His thumb caressed the inside of my bare knee. “But I went to high school at Centennial.”
“Shut up! I graduated from Centennial. Class of ‘08.” I struggled to place his face in the group of 350 students who had graduated with me.
“I’m twenty-three. Class of ‘06.” He smiled and nodded at a couple of blonds beside us. They whispered to each other and one blew him a kiss before sauntering past us to the dance floor. “My brother, Andrew, graduated the year after you,” Aaron continued as if nothing had happened. “You might remember him. He was one of the few guys in the culinary classes. He’s in school now to be a chef.”
I turned on my stool forcing his hand to fall from my knee. “Nah,” I said. “I was more into creative writing and sports. I was on the swim team and track team.” If he wanted to hit on other women, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him to score with me.
“Me, I was into TV production and media,” he said, rubbing his thumb down his mug erasing the condensation, oblivious to my irritation.
“That’s where I saw you then,” I said. “You did the TV news for the school. The announcements and sports coverage, right?”
“Now you remember.” He took a long swallow of his beer and set it down hard on the table. “So, you wanna dance?”
“Uh, I don’t know...” My eyes darted toward the crowd, a heaviness sinking in my belly. There was no way I was getting out there sober. “Maybe after a couple of more...” I raised my glass and jiggled it, the ice tinkling against the sides. Offering a weak smile, I tossed back the rest of my drink.
Aaron waved at the server. “Can we get a couple ‘a more drinks here?” The server nodded and rushed away. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Let’s hit the floor while we’re waiting.” Taking my hand in his, he added, “I’m a pretty good dancer, I promise.” He stood up and drew me to him, dousing my anxiety. He wrapped his arms around my waist and swayed slightly. “Are you embarrassed to dance in public?” His warm breath near my ear reignited the earlier tremble.
“Maybe.” I leaned back, skirting his intoxicating charm. “Usually I’ve drunk a little more and don’t care how I look.”
“Well, not tonight. Come on.” He took my hands and backed onto the dance floor.
My stomach lurched, but those gorgeous, green eyes enticed me more than my fear grounded me.
“Quit worrying. They’re not paying any attention to us.” He started dancing, and at first, I just stood there. But after a few seconds, as the music thumped beat to beat, I wasn’t paying any attention to anything but Aaron.
Dancing with this gorgeous guy, regardless of the fact that he was a terrible flirt, made my face flush and my thighs sweat. His self-assurance was such a turn on. It took balls to dance with one woman and still smile at others who showed interest.
Aaron’s skill mesmerized me. Initially, I didn’t notice how crowded the dance floor was. Then the music grew louder and bodies kept shoving into me. My sweltering skin glistened from the dancing, the crowd, and being so close to Aaron.
As I side-stepped to avoid yet another couple, I was jostled from behind. And my vision blurred for the second time that night. I reached for Aaron, fighting to stay on my feet as the blindness engulfed me.
The vision lasted ten terrifying seconds. I saw a large, dark, smoky room with people dancing, then I was being swallowed by the crowd as a vision overtook me. Confusion and fear suffocated me as I stood, unseeing, within my vision. I was nudged forward by strong hands gripping my arms, my waist. Warm, sweaty, masculine bodies pressed against me, smelling like expensive aftershave. My heartbeat accelerated, pounding in my chest as I was forced forward. Then I jolted to a stop and heard muffled voices arguing around me. My sight within the vision returned and I was shoved into Aaron’s protective embrace. As the vision began to fade, I had a sense of surrealism when I opened my eyes to a worried Aaron.
