During our last hour in the library, William revealed what his other gift was . . . his other impressive one.
He was a Foreteller.
The gift of Foretelling was not revealing the future, but seeing death in the future. Through his mind, a stream of death-filled images forever flowed. He saw Mortal’s deaths. Not every single one—he wasn’t sure why he saw some and not others—but he saw them regularly.
With some, he was able to make out landmarks and timeframes; either a team would be sent to carry out their sworn promise to protect humanity if the deaths were within their power to save (and if he was back in his Alliance of Guardians), or a Transformation team was sent to preview the doomed Mortal, and determine if they would be a needed addition to the Immortal world.
This was how he’d discovered I was in trouble that night in Newport. He saw a Foretelling of my death hours before it nearly took place.
We called it a night after this, and he escorted me back to my room where I now festered; less over today’s clandestine teachings, and more over how much I missed being close to him. He was agonizingly close to me for hours on end, but due to Townsend Manor and a stupid, ancient Immortal code . . . he was as far away and off limits to me as Mars.
I was never going to find the reprieve of dreamless sleep with all these musings running through my mind—which was now highly adept at processing multiple streams of information at any one time. If I was still Mortal, I’m sure the heightened mental stimulus would have caused a killer migraine.
In my growing frustration, I punched the sides of my pillow and stormed out of bed, marching through the open double doors leading to the balcony.
The air was saturated with the scent of lilac, and had the heaviness of a rain-filled spring night. I rested my hands on the balcony rail, and closed my eyes to more fully experience the lusciousness of the air. My mind cleared of all the Immortality confusion, and rested on one thing.
My eyes jolted open at the same time my neck snapped to the side, where his balcony was a mere Immortal leap away. He’d done it hadn’t he . . . why couldn’t I try? If I didn’t make it, I’d only fall to the ground, and I was Immortal after all . . . how much damage could be done?
It was decided—I only wished I’d paid better attention to what William had done. Was it a running jump, or had he done it standing still? Had his arms and legs flailed in the air, propelling him forward? Or had he leapt like a long jumper; legs and arms forward, aerodynamically cutting through the air?
I settled upon standing on the edge of the rail and just giving it everything I had from a standing jump. I couldn’t decide if I should close my eyes or keep them open, but as I began swinging my arms back and forth, I decided to close them—my eyes wouldn’t make the difference if I reached my destination or jettisoned to the ground twenty feet below. I crouched into jumping position, taking one final arm swing back, and then I exploded into . . . something.
Something hard and instantaneous.
I was certain it couldn’t have been from the impact of the ground below; it was much too instant, and it certainly would have hurt far worse than this impact. While forceful, the impact wasn’t painful.
A millisecond later, I was being propelled backwards from the strength of the force. My eyes opened in time to see the face I loved most in front of mine—anxious and determined—as we careened into something soft and swinging behind us. The force of our crash sent the hammock into an agitated swinging fit.
How had he so suddenly appeared? Maybe I’d finally fallen asleep while lying in bed, although this was definitely not a dreamless sleep. It was a million times better. I sighed and reached for his face. It felt real . . . this was a wonderful dream.
“What were you thinking?” My dream William spoke, and he didn’t sound particularly happy . . . and why wasn’t he kissing me already? The frenzied swing of the hammock tapered off, and then I felt the onslaught of our energies colliding at the weight of him on top of me. It was bewildering. I was aware of nothing else but him and our agreeably positioned bodies.
“Bryn,” he said, gentler now. “Please, tell me. What were you doing?”
I had to shake my head in order to clear my thoughts before I could respond. “I was getting ready to jump. What the heck happened?”
His expression sharpened to match the words that came next. “I knew that’s what you were up to.” His face was inches above mine, so close his breath warmed my neck; it took all my will to focus on his words. “Don’t you remember me telling you how weak Immortals are at your age? How fragile you still are?”
“Yes, but—” I wanted to break into my reasoning, but he interrupted me.
“What were you thinking?” he repeated; this time, with less of an edge.
“I just . . . wanted to see you,” I murmured, looking away from him to hide my embarrassment. I thought my intention in the matter would have been obvious.
“You wanted to see me?” He sounded surprised, happily so, so I braved looking back at him.
The stress lines along his forehead had melted, and his mouth was turned up in a smile. He reached his hand towards my face and traced his fingers along my jaw-line. “And you thought since you’d seen me leap from balcony to balcony, that you’d give it a try too?” His fingers continued their tracing, now gliding smoothly over the shape of my lips, making it impossible to respond, so I nodded.
“I sometimes forget how tenacious you are,” he said, lowering his face to my neck. His warm breath vaporized against the skin of my neck. “Next time you want to see me in the middle of the night”—his lips grazed softly over my neck, barely touching—“why don’t you just come out here, and instead of attempting a jump, whisper my name.”
His lips ceased their journey, and he lifted his face above mine. He swept his hand over my brows, which were now set in confusion, and chuckled. “I failed to mention my heightened senses are a bit more heightened than other Immortals.”
“You’ve got another gift?” As if Foretelling and the ability to create an Immortal of his own accord wasn’t enough, now he had extra heightened senses? If he could hear me whisper from almost a half a football field away, how far away could he be to hear a normal voice, or a blood-curdling scream?
What about his vision? I thought about how next to perfect mine was now, and knowing that his was even more so . . . was it like Superman’s X-ray vision? My heart raced thinking of this, and I made a mental note to take advantage of the fancy underwear that remained untouched in my lavishly stocked closet. Just in case . . .
“What are you thinking?” He looked at me with a mixture of caution and nervousness, while I pondered in silence.
“I was just thinking about all your gifts. Your talents—”
He cut in, “I know, I’m some kind of Immortal freak.” A grimace shot across his face before he rolled off to the side of me, but he kept one arm wrapped around my back.
I rolled on my side to look him in the face. “No, that’s not it at all,” I spoke with the kind of conviction that emanates from every molecule of one’s makeup. “You’re amazing. Perfect, even. I already felt far inferior before I even knew about all this Immortal stuff. Now, I feel utterly insignificant beside you, and it appears I don’t even have a single gift of my own.” The disappointment I’d been trying to hide in my voice seeped out.
“You really don’t see yourself the way everyone else does. If anyone’s inferior here, it’s me,” he said, fingering through my hair. “It’s still very early. Our gifts don’t normally appear until a few weeks after creation, so don’t worry,” he reassured me. “You might be even freakier than me.” He laughed lightly, but the heaviness remained in his eyes.
“Please promise me next time you’re so desperate to see me, you’ll just call for me,” he begged, as his arm tightened around my back and drew me down to him. His lips kissed the outside corner of my mouth. “I couldn’t stand to see you hurt, even for a moment.” His lips brushed over mine as he move
d to kiss the other corner of my mouth.
“I promise,” I replied breathlessly, as the fire began to tear through me.
“Besides, I was just debating making a visit of my own. I couldn’t sleep, and having to be so carefully restrained around you these past couple days just about killed me.” He grinned irresistibly, before caressing my neck with his lips again.
The fire was scalding, exploding through my body every place he touched me, and as perfect as this moment was . . . I still yearned for something more—the fire craved something more.
Without mercy, he twisted us back into our prior position. I reached for the back of his head and wove my fingers through his hair to pull him closer, seeking his lips with mine. They met, and all was right again, the fire momentarily abated, satisfied with the longings extinguished on each other’s lips.
“Eh-hmmm . . .”
I froze when the unannounced third party interrupted our sanctuary with a deliberate clearing of his throat. It appeared my heightened senses were rendered useless when William and I were together like this. William didn’t respond to whoever was behind us, he kept his lips moving softly over my now petrified ones, as if savoring the fleeting moment.
“Eh-hmmmm!”
I was terrified to look; afraid it would be John having discovered our affection for one another all because of my weakness and unfailing need for the dark-haired man melting my frozen lips with his presently.
William sighed heavily, placed one final kiss over my mouth, and then righted us both with one graceful movement. “You have impeccable timing as always, Patrick.” William hadn’t yet turned to see who was behind us, but when I peeked from the side of his shielding body, it was Patrick—slanting against the railing, black three-piece suit and all.
“Yeah, well this is just my way of keeping everything balanced my friend—you know, the whole ying-yang, black and white, good vs. evil, Inheritor versus Guardian thing? The universe requires balance to run efficiently, and consider this—my impeccable timing right now—to balance out my good timing earlier this evening . . . when I showed up just before you were able to launch yourself at dear John.” Patrick raised his eyebrows in reminder. “I didn’t quite understand why you were so flipping enraged at first. I thought it was because he was distracting one of your students or something, but now”—he pointed his finger between the two of us—“I understand perfectly. Again, I apologize for ruining the moment.” He covered his mouth, trying to contain a smile or a laugh. “But I simply had to make the universe right again.” He dropped his hand from his mouth, no longer trying to hide his intense enjoyment.
Maybe I should have been embarrassed, but I was instead brewing with worry that Patrick would report back to John who he’d found breaking code number two of Immortality. With one Immortal lunge, I moved from behind William towards Patrick.
“Please, you can’t tell anyone.” My eyes pleaded in unison with my words. “I’ll do anything . . .”
William came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He didn’t seem the least bit worried or concerned that our secret was no longer ours.
Patrick continued to glow from his amusement, leaning ever so casually against the railing I’d just come so close to leaping from. His smirk was enflaming a different kind of fire within. I wondered if I was strong enough to kick him over the edge. Sure, he wouldn’t be injured permanently, but at least I’d know he suffered a couple minutes of grueling pain before he could announce to the world his discovery tonight.
“Easy, Bryn.” He raised his hands and smoothed his face out. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I just wanted to have a little fun with you two tonight. Besides, I couldn’t be happier that our William here is finally expressing an interest in the fairer sex.” He swaggered over to William and slapped his arm. “What did I tell you? Huh? One day you’d find someone to help you get over her—”
“Patrick!” William’s voice thundered despite the controlled volume.
Patrick feinted back from the fury. “Sorry man, enough teasing for one night. I’ll shut up.” He returned to the railing, and seated himself on the ledge.
My heart crushed under the prickles of pain and the vices of jealousy. I’d always expected there to have been someone else; he’d lived a Mortal life until the age of twenty-two, and as an Immortal for the past two centuries.
There were probably many others, but none-the-less, it stung when I heard it spoken openly. I liked it better when the faceless women of William’s past were nothing but maybes in my mind. Patrick’s comment had suddenly made them—made HER—very real, causing everything to ache from deep within.
William still had me locked in his arms, but dropped his head onto my shoulder and turned his head towards mine to examine my expression. I did my best to keep my face even, and turned my eyes away from him so they wouldn’t betray me.
“So, I didn’t just come here to tease you two tonight,” Patrick’s voice had a new seriousness in it I was unfamiliar with. “I was talking with John earlier this evening and he mentioned that the Council is assembling tomorrow . . . assembling here.” He shot William a perplexed look as he continued, “I asked him why, but he didn’t give me much—just said it was regarding some upcoming events.”
William’s arms tightened around my waist as he lifted his head from my shoulder. “They’re coming here tomorrow?” Worry was thick in his voice.
Patrick nodded his head.
William released me, and rubbed one hand over his lined forehead. “Alright. We’ll just leave here first thing in the morning instead of later in the afternoon.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, spinning to face him.
William snapped out of his pensive trance. “I’m sorry . . . I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet—”
“I’ll say. It didn’t look like you were going to get around to the telling anytime soon.” Patrick burst in.
One quick, sharp kick; I was so close. I’d relish every moment of his free fall to the looming ground below.
William interrupted my calculating plans right before I took my first physical step towards carrying it out. “Shut up, Patrick. Do you want me to throw you off the balcony?”
It was like he was reading my mind.
“Sorry.” Patrick raised his hands, and his eyes glittered through his narrowed slits. “It wouldn’t be the first time though, would it?”
William smiled in acknowledgement. “Nor the last if you can’t manage to keep that trap of yours shut.”
“Okay, okay,” Patrick muttered, and then turned his head away from us.
William positioned his hands over the sides of my neck, and explained, “I spoke with John tonight about my plan for Paul, and I got him to agree to release the two of us for a couple of days.”
“What plan did you come up with?” I questioned, not bothering to hide the excitement rising in my voice. Two days alone with William outside the confines of Townsend Manor? Two days, and one precious night, all to ourselves . . .
William smiled wryly. “My plan’s still not fully formulated yet, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
“How did you convince John to allow me to go with you?” I didn’t even pause to be concerned William still wasn’t sure how to take care of the situation with Paul. I was too elated.
“I informed him how far behind you’d get in your studies. He agreed to let you go so I could stay current with your teachings.” His eyes looked guilty. “I should have asked you first if you’d want to go before I petitioned John.”
“Of course I want to go!” I threw my arms around his neck. “Just you and me—”
Patrick cleared his throat, turning his attention back to us. “Actually,”—he held up a finger—“you and him, and . . .”—he grinned sheepishly, and pointed his finger at his chest—“me.”
William exhaled swiftly. “Let me guess . . .”
“Chaperone,” they said in unison.
?
??Chaperone?” I questioned with obvious annoyance, as my dreams of an amorous getaway with William vanished into the suffocating fog that was Patrick.
“What for?” I shot with accusation at Patrick.
“Easy Bryn. Geez.” Patrick hopped down from the ledge and walked over to the hammock. “It’s not like it was my idea. John requested that I accompany you two on your little mission.” He flopped down on the hammock and placed his hands behind his head. “Hmmm, this is rather comfy,” he said, nestling down deeper. “I see why you two are so fond of it.”
Before I had time to process another one of Patrick’s flippant remarks, William turned into a blur beside me, grabbing up a clay pot and sailing it towards Patrick’s face. In another flash, Patrick’s hands were wrapped around the vase, stopping it an inch from his nose. He slid his face to the side of the vase to look at William, a smile plastered it.
“Nice throw. Better luck next time?” His eyebrows danced like a vaudevillian actor, and in another blur, he threw it back to William, who caught it easily and set it down in its original resting place.
William snorted. “I wasn’t looking to hit you, just hoping to shut you up for a few seconds. I can give it another try if you’re disappointed,” William tempted with gleaming eyes.
“Not in front of the ladies.” Patrick motioned to me. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to wake up everyone in the house right now, would you?” He stared up and down at William and me—sporting our pajamas, and our faces still flushed from what we’d been wrapped up in before the annoyance arrived.
“Alright Patrick, you’ve delivered your messages for the night . . .” William’s inflection suggested more of a question than a comment.
Patrick nodded his head.
“All of them?” William pressed.
Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yes, all of them.”
“Good. We’ll see you first thing in the morning. We’re leaving at seven, before the Council arrives.” William’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want Bryn anywhere near the Manor when they’re here. This is most unusual.” He shot me an anxious glance.
“I could stay and visit for awhile,” Patrick cajoled, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Keep you two company if you don’t have anything better to do.”
“Get out of here.” Before William could grab something else to toss at him, Patrick disappeared from balcony.
“He is so annoying,” I said.
William rested his hand on my cheek, and the warmth of his skin flowed through every pore. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a good guy, but yes, quite annoying.” He took a step closer, pressing his body against mine. “Now, where were we?”
The butterflies exploded in my stomach. I tilted my head back, kissing him on the tip of his chin, and then glided my lips upwards until they were just below his. I felt his hands tremble on my back, and saw his eyes consumed by a familiar flame.
“Right about here,” I said quietly, before I rested my lips where they belonged—pressed against his. I would have sworn that our last kiss on the hammock was the best ever, just as I would’ve sworn to everyone preceding that, and this kiss was no different.
The best ever. The best yet . . . but there would be more, and I slept unnecessarily soundly that night after William tucked me into bed, looking forward to this.