Awakening the next morning, I found a rainbow of emotions awaiting me—excitement, anxiety, nervousness, anticipation—knowing I would be leaving with William for two whole days . . . with Patrick in tow.
I grimaced when I imagined the torture surely to come. I wonder if there’s such a thing as extra-strength duct-tape or gags for Immortals; anything that could keep him quiet.
I felt just as refreshed and invigorated as I had before I’d gone to bed last night, but that would be the norm in my new life where sleep was unnecessary . . . a mere Indulgence. I’d been thankful for it last night though, just to give my mind a few hours of quiet from the chaos racing around up there.
I sprung out of bed and ran into the closet, eager to get on with the day. I threw several pieces of clothing into a bag monogrammed with gold letters. For all my fashion sense knew, it could have been straight off the shelves of some bargain store, but something about the way the fine leather felt led me to believe otherwise.
I completed my packing in less than two minutes. It wasn’t because of an Immortal speed thing, it was a Bryn thing—I’d never taken longer than five minutes to pack in my whole life because anything longer seemed a waste of time.
I slung the bag out of the closet and turned my attention to selecting an outfit for the day. My urge was to pull on a pair of jeans, but I stopped to survey the racks overflowing with silks, chenilles, and cashmeres in every hue I’d ever seen, as well as some I hadn’t.
I saw it about two rows down. My lips pursed into a semi-evil smile, remembering the distraction William had so casually tormented me with a couple days ago in the form of a strategically unbuttoned shirt. Time for payback . . . try to concentrate on anything else today, Mister.
I slipped into the secret weapon of retaliation, wondering if it was really worth it. I felt more uncomfortable than a turkey in November in anything that wasn’t comfortable and cotton. I sucked in a deep breath—and not just to collect my wits, but to get the zipper up.
Despite my dread, I couldn’t contain my smile when I reviewed my selection in the full length mirror. The vintage style, knee-length dress slithered down my body in ivory brocade and was finished by a patent leather skinny belt—setting the waist in obvious contrast to the fuller forms of what lay above and below it. Perfect.
I slid into a matching pair of heels and grabbed my overnight bag. I fingered through my hair, in too big a hurry to see him to care about doing anything more impressive with it.
Rushing to the door, I took in a deep breath and did my best to conjure up my inner Audrey Hepburn. I knew he’d be waiting for me right outside my door as he had everyday, so this was my one chance to collect my wits before his face assaulted them. I slid my hands down the dress—smoothing, pushing and adjusting—and hurled the door open.
Whatever stress I’d had over wearing the dress, was worth it the moment I saw his face. His mouth dropped and his eyes looked close to popping out of his head. I watched with satisfaction when he wavered and had to place his hands securely on the rail behind to steady himself.
“Wow,” he murmured under his breath, changing his hold on the railing so it no longer appeared to be keeping him steady, but keeping him from getting us into trouble.
I smiled from his verbal and non-verbal praise.
“Bryn.” A voice called out from the staircase. William’s head snapped to the side, just in time to see John ascend the final step before he was in the hallway with us.
It seemed strange . . . reckless, that neither one of us had sensed his approach before he was practically upon us, especially William. Perhaps I incapacitated his senses as much as he did mine.
John came to an abrupt halt when he looked at me, and a smile formed over his lips that gave me the creeps. “I see you’ve taken the dress code to heart,” he said, referring to the rule William had mentioned in passing regarding John’s stringency of “dressing the part” like the bunch of superior Immortals he considered his Alliance.
My fidgeting broke out from the unyielding eyes surveying me—my lower lip took the majority of the beating.
“Extraordinary,” John said, taking a step back and rubbing his hand over his chin; as someone would when considering an expensive purchase. My prior fondness for the dress turned to hate—you can take the girl out of the jeans . . . but you shouldn’t.
“John,” William said, sounding more like a warning than an address. His pent up fury cascaded from his tensed body. I could physically feel the heat from it.
John pried his eyes from me. Setting his jaw tight, he narrowed his eyes as he turned to William. John’s annoyed glare met William’s furious one, and the clashing of their emotions forecasted a hurricane on the horizon.
“I heard this morning of your change in schedule for today’s travels, so I wanted to grab Bryn before your early morning departure.” He raised his eyebrows in an all-knowing manner. “I’ve assembled the Council here today, and they’re quite eager to meet Miss Dawson.” He turned his head to me. “And from your radiance today, I highly doubt they’ll be disappointed.”
I could feel—more like sense—William preparing to do something very rash. The closeness shared between us transcended physicality and emotionality. I felt what he was thinking—the stronger the emotion, the easier to understand his thoughts—and right now I knew he was preparing to tackle John. As the internal broodings started to form physically when he removed his hands from the railing and balled them into fists, I panicked. I did the only thing I could think of to keep William from attacking John.
The one thing that would stop him—me.
I surged forward and took John’s arm, placing myself between William and him. I knew William would never risk me being hurt, as fool-hearty as it was since I couldn’t be injured with any kind of permanence.
I shot him an apologetic look and hoped he would forgive me. I wanted to cry when I saw forgiveness was already in his eyes. I felt the fury calming, but quick to replace it, was fear. I knew this fear was for me, and whatever awaited me with the Council. I mustered up all the reassurance I could radiate, and hoped he could feel what was flowing through me, as I could him.