With this last – I think – series of Crossed Lives I want to fill the holes. I'd recommend to read the two old stories to have more continuity. Even if you don't like the couples (I don't like them neither hahaha), I promise it's something totally different, which can't be summed up in the following summaries!

As always, I have to thank my friend Kat for the amazing cover! Love you!

Enjoy!

A short summary of Crossed lives
Viktoria Haas is an Austrian girl living in Vienna with her father, her sister Eva and her grandmother during the Second World War. She finds out that her father is hiding in a room inside his factory a Jew, Ben Keller. While the two of them seem to fall in love and share more than they think, the coincidences and the dreams that Viktoria has since she was a child, start to become suspect.
Viktoria receives from her grandmother an ancient crucifix and finds out that the old lady, like her, has memories of a past life. Thanks to them she was able, when she was young, to find the crucifix buried at the foot of a tree in Paris. There, she met a guy, Jerome, whom would become Viktoria's grandfather.
Viktoria talks to Ben, whom for years has been drawing the same face, her face, even before they met. They find out they are the reincarnation of Aramis and Queen Anne.
Meanwhile, the truth about the Musketeer and the Queen's faith is revealed to Viktoria through her dreams: they were both executed, charged with treason. The crucifix was given from Aramis to D'Artagnan, which in turn gave it to Constance, whom in the end buried it at the foot of the trees where Viktoria's grandmother found it.
Ben and Viktoria find their tragic deaths when they are surprised by Viktoria's dad's partner.
In the bonus chapter, we are in 2015 and we shortly see Iris, a Spanish girl that in some way owns the crucifix. She meets Manuel almost by chance. As soon as they see each other, the two of them understand that they met before in other lives. They are, indeed, the Queen and Aramis again.

A short summary of Crossed Lives – The Oath
Bea and Tommaso are two Scouts, they have grown up together and they are inseparable since they've known each other. When they were children, almost as a joke, they have swapped their Scouts' neckerchiefs and in that moment both of them saw their past lives. Bea was, indeed, Constance, while Tommaso was D'Artagnan.
Bea has never wanted to talk about it, because she saw terrible things. When she was Constance, she had to bear the pain of being D'Artagnan's widow, with a newborn child. This shocked her so much that she did an extreme thing, which forced the King and the new Queen to banish her from Paris.
When Bea and Tommaso find themselves in a dangerous situation, they are rescued from Iris and Manuel, which they immediately recognise.

Chapter 1

Roman Kozlov had been staring at that building for a few minutes. It seemed incredible that it was still standing, due to the cruel faith the whole Vienna had incurred in

Still he could hear the bombs in the distance, and columns of smoke rose from tore-down or burnt buildings. In the streets, the soviet's tanks marched triumphant along with shouts for joy, which came in part from vodka, in part from the excitement of having the whole city in their hands. A few shots made him think that there were still some hiding Nazis to be executed; but it was a woman's shout coming from who knows where to waken Roman from his catharsis. This was followed by a burst of laughter: they were doing it again.

His hands shook, but he knew he was powerless; if he tried to stop them, it would have ended badly for him, again. The pain in his ribs still reminded his last attempt to save a little girl from his mates' clutches. She was younger than Nina, his little sister, his Ninochka, and the scared look that she gave him just before she'd been threw on the table from four big and tall men, had remarkably reminded him of his sister. So much that he couldn't just stay and watch.

A stinging pain in his abdomen, forced him to loosen the strap of the Mosin-Nagant that he had on his shoulder. They had beaten him to a nub, but at least the little girl had managed to run away.

Cowards.

They all acted as conquerors, but that wasn't the reason why he'd enlisted. They didn't free thousands people from their torturers just to take their place. After all those battles, he just wanted to go back home to his mother and sister, and leave to their lives those poor people who'd already suffered too much from war.

So, standing still was Roman Kozlov in front of that building: a dusty notebook in his hands, and his sky-blue eyes in contrast with his skin darkened from the dirt. An out-of-place detail in a catastrophic painting, a glimmer of light on a city of darkness, a splash of colour added by a child in a white-and-black drawing.

Another scream broke by sobbing, tore his heart apart. He suddenly turned, but the only thing he saw were five soldiers with his same uniform laughing and staggering along the street, helping each other to walk.

To not hear the screaming any more, he put on a brave face and entered the building.

The stair was dark because there was no electricity, and he had to be careful to not stumble into the steps. He counted one, two, three floors before he crossed the scared look of an old lady, who rushed into her apartment; he heard the key turning several times in the door.

He climbed up another floor and he found himself right in front of the door he was looking for. With no further hesitation, he swallowed and knocked. He suddenly remembered he had his gun in sight, so he rapidly took it off and leaned it against the wall.

"Who are you? We have weapons." he heard a girl's voice from the other side of the door. They must had seen him through the peep-hole, even if he hadn't hear her steps.

"I mean you ino harm. I'm looking for Mister Haas, they told me he lived… he lives here." his German was halting but understandable, despite his strong Russian accent.

"Go away." the girl replied after a few seconds.

"Please. I just want to talk. I found something… I have reasons to think it belongs to you." he explained. Then he raised the notebook next to his head, showing it in front of the peep-hole. "I found it in Mister Haas' factory's rubble." he tried to say, persuasively.

A long silence was the reply he got. Resigned, he left the notebook on the floor and took his Mosin-Nagat. "Put it down." ordered the determined voice from the inside. "Leave it there and I'll let you in."

Roman made a slightly satisfied smile, but immediately wiped it off: he didn't want to appear too confident. He left the gun leaning against the wall and stepped back from the door with his hands up. He heard the key turning and finally the door opened.

A blonde girl, severe and dried-up looking was staring at him sceptical, almost sulky. Before he could see the gun she was holding, he saw her judging, fair eyes. He felt naked and powerless in front of that look even because, without taking her eyes off him, she confiscated his gun. She closed the door again; he heard some tinker noises and he didn't know if she would have opened it again. But then, there she was again; she was using her gun confidently and her words cut the air between them, as harsh as they sounded.

"Don't try anything stupid. I know how to use it. I've done it before."

"That's not my intention." he babbled, a little shaken.

"Take it." she pointed at the notebook on the floor and Roman slowly bent to pick it up.

He entered the apartment behind the girl whom had never taken her eyes off him the whole time. Even if he wanted to do something, he wouldn't have even the time to pull out the blade.

"My name is Roman Kozlov." he tried to break the tension, in vain.

"Eva." the girl replied, coldly, then she stretched her hand out to get the leather-covered notebook. He hesitated. He'd almost got attached to that item, he wasn't sure about giving it to that rude girl, which wasn't exactly the person he'd expected to meet.

"Mister Haas..." he tried to say.

"Give me that notebook and get out of here." she cut it short. Roman saw her right eye sparkle imperceptibly.

In the moment he was about to give the notebook to the girl, a voice draw the attention of the two.

"Eva, who's there?"

Panic spread in her eyes, when an old, hunchbacked, grey-headed lady came out of the adjacent room. She was smiling peacefully, unaware of what was happening.

"N-No one, grandma! Go back in there!" she ordered, alternating her look from the old lady to the soldier. But after a second of astonishment, Roman had lost interest for the gun pointing towards him. He couldn't help but noticing the way the old lady was staring at him: the same look you give to a friend you see after a long, long time.

Eva's grandmother put her hand on her chest and with the other hand she lowered her granddaughter's arm, the one holding the gun.

"Grandma, what…?!" the girl exclaimed, stupefied.

Roman had remained impressed. He'd never seen that person before, but something was telling him that he was in the right place. A feeling of pity and affection moved his heart towards the old lady, but not in the same way he used to be moved looking at the poor women afflicted by the war. It was different, it was something way more familiar.

In an automatic gesture he gave the notebook to Eva, whom, even though she'd lowered her gun, kept glancing at him sceptically. When the girl looked into it, the emotion overwhelmed her. "Vicky..." he thought she whispered, while her tears were wetting the yellow pages.

"I… I'm sorry, I found it and… Those drawings had reminded me… I don't know..." he tried to explain, while the grandmother was still smiling at him. "That face looked familiar to me, and I thought you may knew..." he added, insecure.

Eva closed the notebook sharply, shutting him up, she rapidly dried her tears with the back of her hand, then she stretched the same hand to take Romans' gun, which she'd hidden on the top of the cabinet in the hall.

"Mister… Mister Haas…?" he tried to ask one last time, but Eva was quicker and didn't let him finish the question.

"Go away." she ordered, giving him back his gun. "Please." she added, mellowing out a little.

The Russian tried to find complicity in the old lady by looking at her and he saw her struggling to undo something on her nape.

"Tell your friends to stay away." Eva sentenced, when he took back his Mosin-Nagat with insecurity and tried to buy some time by putting it on his shoulder: what was that woman doing? Roman didn't take off his eyes from Eva's grandmother, while he was walking towards the door. It was about to being shut by the girl, when a faint voice, tired from the effort, hold her back. "Wait!"

Roman stuck, curious, and Eva did the same.

"Grandma, what are you doing?" she asked, looking at the woman walking to the door, holding something in her hand. A long, silvered necklace hanged from her fingers and when she opened them, her hand showed a jewel: a crucifix as flashy as precious, with five little stones.

"Grandma, no!" Eva intervened, outraged.

"Take it." the lady smiled. "I've owned it for too long, and it doesn't belong to me."

Roman was astonished. His eyes had popped out and he didn't know what to do, but the woman was insisting, by pushing her hand against his chest. He took the necklace which was about to fall on the floor.

"But… I..." he shook his head looking at Eva. "I don't want..." he was about to say. But the girl was staring at her grandmother intensely, as if she wanted to study her.

"Take it." she concluded, curling her lips and dilating her nostrils, accepting the old lady's decision along with some tears. "Goodbye."

And she closed the door, literally pushing him out and leaving him in the hallway, shocked, with a crucifix in his hand.

He stared at it in the darkness, examining attentively while going down the stairs. He tripped in his own feet a couple of times, but nothing could have made his heart beat like the feeling he had had in meeting that woman again. He didn't even know why his mind was strongly imposing the word "again", since it'd been the first time he'd met her. When he went out on the street he carefully put the jewel in his pocket, hiding it completely.

He looked around but the situation hadn't changed much than before. He thought he would have felt relieved after he'd given back the notebook, but he had a new burden to carry instead, and it was weighing his pocket. That item wasn't his. It wasn't the old lady's neither. But this time he didn't have any clue to be able to give it back to his owner. And then, he wasn't a courier, after all.

He started to walk. He hadn't even moved a couple of steps, that a whistle made him wince, and he recognised the following sound. The stinging pain reached him only after a few seconds: someone had shot him. The bullet had just grazed his arm and the bullet was stuck in the wall behind his back.

He frantically searched with his eyes in the direction from where the shot had come and he saw a man running down an alley. He wore a hat and a long coat; the sun was going down, so he wasn't able to see his face, but he started running after him.