Eternal Eden (27 page)

“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.

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.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE COUNCIL

John escorted me down the staircase, and led me down the west hall when we reached the main floor. He stopped in front of a nondescript utility door and removed a brass key from his jacket pocket. Unlocking the door, he held it open for me, but I hesitated.

A surge of cool air pulsed over me. A long staircase descended down into what must be the basement, although the forever winding stairs led down much farther than your everyday basement. It was dark, except for what looked to be the flickering of candles far below. Even with my inhuman vision, I didn’t want to step into the menacing darkness.