Four

Jordan was there and then he wasn't. His head was thrown back and his eyes moved under his eyelids as he watched whatever vision played out only for him. He'd mentioned his dreams earlier, but this wasn't a dream, and I'd never seen him have a vision or heard him mention them. There was so much I didn't know about him, and so much he was unwilling to talk about, but I was the same. My past with my mother and her coven was not something I wanted to share with anyone, not even Jordan.

"Jordan?" I whispered, but I knew there was no reaching him until the vision was done.

His eyes opened then, and he looked around the room before his eyes met mine. "Bran?"

"Yes, you're okay. What did you see?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. If there was any chance we could end all the craziness of the past few months, I was interested in that information.

"It's all very strange. I think I had a vision. I was at a celebration. But it was long ago, and while I could see everything happening around me, I wasn't me," Jordan tried to explain while narrowing his eyes and trying to hold onto the memory before it faded like a dream on waking.

"What celebration?" I asked and hoped it helped him remember. He shook his head slightly and met my eyes.

"You won't believe me," he whispered.

"Try me," I said. He took a deep breath and started to tell his story.

"Lately I've had a lot of dreams and visions from another lifetime." He met my eyes and waited for my reaction. "At first, I thought they were dreams, but there are deep emotions attached to them. When it happens, I'm able to feel and sense everything around me. It's not a dream."

"Do you think they're really memories of another lifetime?" I asked, using the words he had. I was hesitant to ask about reincarnation. I knew for a fact it was possible, but I hadn't met anyone who could prove they were a reincarnated spirit. Something about crossing over the veil wiped all memories and gave the spirit a new beginning no matter if that's what they wanted or not. But I also knew some witches had managed to pass on their knowledge after death to a blood relative who was willing to carry on where their ancestor had left off. Ensuring their line of magic and power continued.

"I think so. I have memories of a small village that I think might be in Ireland, and pagan ceremonies." He looked at me then, gauging my reaction. "I know it sounds crazy."

I knelt between his knees and cradled his face in my hands. "After all we've been through, you think I would doubt you? Jordan, I know you wouldn't tell me this if you didn't think it was important, and if it matters to you it matters to me. I'm here for you through all the weirdness." I smiled then, but I could tell he was still holding back, and I wasn't sure why. His past didn't have any effect on me or our future, but something stopped him from telling me all he knew.

He covered my hand with his and met my eyes. They were full of determination and maybe a little bit of relief. "You were there with me, and you were a necromancer. I don't know how I knew that, but I did. We were a couple." Again, he waited for my reaction. "We've been together before, and I don't think it was the only time. Our fates are entwined. We were meant to meet through the centuries, but I don't know why."

"You mean like a fated couple? How can you know this?" I was still a man of science and wanted proof even though I was connected to the spirit world. So many things could be proven wrong, but not everything in the supernatural had an explanation.

"I see you in my memories and I recognize you, but it's not you. I don't recognize you, yet somehow, I know—it's you. We're bound together no matter what we do, our fates will always be woven together. Sorry, I know that sounds strange, but that's what keeps repeating in my mind. We're fated."

Fated. I tried the word out and wondered if it could be true. I was familiar with this belief, but my upbringing didn't allow for it. While my mother believed power never died, and was passed down from witch to witch, the science part of me didn't believe that. My mother wanted my power because she hadn't been born with it, and like all genetics we were never guaranteed to inherit certain traits or talents that were passed to future generations.

"Bran?" Jordan asked, his voice full of regret at his admission.

"I'm familiar with this, but I have a hard time believing it's true." I didn't want to hurt him, but I wouldn't lie to him either. "I love you, but I'm not sure I believe it's because of a spirit that was in love with someone who may or may not have been from my bloodline."

"That's what I thought too. At first, I really thought they were just dreams, really vivid dreams, but then I couldn't shake the feeling it went beyond that. Then the past few weeks I've had visions while I'm awake. Not every day, and not all of them are as intense. I just don't know what it means."

"Do you think it's a message?" Spirits were strange and would do some fucked up things to get the attention of the living, but I wasn't sure what the endgame could be from a vision that showed the two of us together in the past.

"I'm not sure. Then there's Edith—" he said, before meeting my eyes.

"What about her?" I asked.

"I think I need to contact her."

"Why? Do you think she has something to do with your visions?"

"I'm not sure, but I want to know what's going on, and not in the middle of the night when I'm half asleep. She comes to me but tells me nothing." He huffed out a laugh and made half an effort to sound convincing then looked away when he knew it hadn't worked.

"I spoke to her earlier," I blurted out.

"What? How could she get through your protections?" Jordan asked.

"I opened it enough for her to speak to me but not enter." I reached for him then and pulled him into my arms. "Jordan, I didn't know this was weighing so heavy on you." It made me mad at myself for ignoring what was now his obvious distress. "She didn't tell me anything, just that we weren't the only ones with abilities and that she needed to speak to us. I'm still hesitant to let her into our space but I don't want you to be in pain or have her keep contacting you."

"Thank you," he whispered into my chest and relaxed into my arms. "Hopefully after she'll leave me alone."