Page 71 of Never Quite Gone

“No, brother.” I kept my voice soft, using the title deliberately. “I didn't take anything. The price was too high – is still too high. Every life, every memory... they're not gifts. They're punishment.”

“Liar!” The blade pressed harder, drawing a thin line of blood. “I see how you look at him. How you chase him through lifetimes. That's not punishment – that's power. Power that should be mine.”

Memory crashed over me – another blade, another confrontation, the moment in that first life when this soul's jealousy had destroyed everything. But this wasn't then. This wasn't just another iteration of ancient patterns. This was my brother, the boy who'd followed me around with hero-worship in his eyes, the man who'd built his own success alongside mine.

“Will, please.” I didn't try to hide the tears in my own voice. “This isn't you. Not really. The memories are too much, too fast. Let me help you understand.”

Something flickered in his eyes – recognition warring with rage. His hand shook where it held the blade, and for a moment I saw my brother through the centuries of tangled destiny.

“I dream of temples,” he whispered, his voice suddenly young and lost. “Of scrolls written in languages I shouldn't know. Of power that burns and burns and burns...” His grip tightened on my shirt. “Make it stop. Please, Alex. Make it stop.”

“I can't.” The truth hurt more than the blade at my throat. “But I can help you through it. Like I should have done in that first life, before everything went wrong.”

“Wrong?” Will's laugh held hysteria's edge. “What went wrong was you getting everything while I got nothing. Life after life, chance after chance, while I...” The blade pressed harder. “While I just die and die and die.”

The letter opener never reached its target. Will froze mid-strike, his body suddenly rigid as Marcus stepped into my office. His hand was raised in a gesture I hadn't seen in centuries, power rippling through the air like heat waves over summer asphalt.

“That's enough,” Marcus said, his usual corporate calm replaced by something older, more potent. The voice that had commanded armies, that had shaped destinies, that had watched over my family through generations.

Will struggled against invisible bonds, confusion replacing rage in his eyes. “What... what's happening to me?” The letter opener clattered to the floor, silver catching moonlight as it spun. His voice sounded younger suddenly, almost like the boy who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms.

Marcus approached with measured steps, his other hand beginning to glow with subtle energy that looked wrong in this modern office of glass and steel. Power that belonged to temple walls and sacred groves, not quarterly reports and acquisition papers.

“His memories are breaking through faster than we anticipated,” Marcus said, placing his glowing hand on Will's forehead. My brother's eyes rolled back, his body going slack as Marcus easedhim into one of my visitor chairs. “The barrier I placed in his mind years ago is failing.”

I watched my oldest friend work, ancient magic shimmering in the space between heartbeats. How many times had he done this? How many generations of my family had he watched over, protecting them from truths they weren't ready to face?

“How long have you known?” I asked quietly, though part of me already knew the answer. “About Will's memories?”

Marcus's smile was tired, worn smooth like river stones. “I've been protecting your family for generations, old friend. Since that first life, when everything went wrong.” His hand stayed steady on Will's forehead, power flowing in gentle waves. “Will's soul... it remembers things it shouldn't. Things from before the curse. Before the binding that tied all of us together.”

My brother slumped deeper into unconsciousness as Marcus worked, his face finally peaceful. I studied his features – so like mine in this life, when in others we'd been stranger, enemy, friend. Always connected, always reaching for something just beyond his grasp.

“The new barrier won't hold long,” Marcus warned, his voice heavy with centuries of keeping secrets. “A few days, maybe a week. His soul is too strong, too determined to remember.” He stepped back, power fading from his hands. “And growing stronger with each life.”

I knelt beside my brother, remembering summers in the Hamptons, board meetings where he'd had my back, family dinners full of inside jokes and shared understanding. “What triggered this?” I asked, though Marcus's expression suggested I already knew the answer.

“Eli.” Marcus settled into another chair, suddenly looking every one of his immortal years. “Seeing you two together, watching the pattern reassert itself... it's awakening something in him. Something dangerous.”

“He's my brother,” I said softly, brushing Will's hair backfrom his forehead. “Not just in this life. His soul has been bound to mine since the beginning.”

“Which makes him more vulnerable, not less.” Marcus leaned forward, his eyes holding weight of millennia. “Think, Alex. Why do you think I've stayed so close to your family through generations? Why I've watched over Will particularly?”

Understanding hit like physical pain. “Because he remembers the original binding. Not just what came after, but the moment itself. When everything changed.”

Marcus nodded slowly. “His soul carries echoes of power it wasn't meant to touch. Knowledge it wasn't meant to hold. Each life, the memories get stronger, harder to contain.”

“And seeing Eli and me together...”

“Accelerates the process. Reminds his soul of what it lost, what it tried to claim.” Marcus gestured at the letter opener still lying on my office floor. “Tonight wasn't just jealousy or confusion. It was centuries of buried power trying to break free.”

I picked up the letter opener, its silver warm against my palm. “I should have seen it coming. The way he's been watching us, asking questions about the hospital project.”

“You've been focused on Eli.” Marcus's voice held no judgment, just understanding. “On helping him remember naturally, safely. But Will... his memories were never going to surface gently. There's too much power tangled in them, too much ancient knowledge trying to break through.”

Will stirred slightly in his chair, face twitching like he was dreaming. I wondered what he saw behind his eyes – temple fires and sacred scrolls, power that burned and burned and burned.

“How do we help him?” I asked, though I feared I knew the answer. “There has to be a way to ease him into remembering, like we're doing with Eli.”

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