I surveyed the starred night, looking for any hint of daybreak on the eastern horizon, but saw no stirring of light. I was about to ask him how he knew we were an hour away, when something deep inside my consciousness answered my question . . . because it’s 4:33.
Okay, that was creepy . . . really creepy. Along with my new and improved wiring, it appeared I’d had an internal clock installed that rounded time off to the exact minute.
He examined my puzzled expression. “What is it?”
“Nothing really. I think I just discovered another Immortal wonder,” I said, with a hint of sarcasm.
“Why don’t we test another one out?” His eyes gleamed, and then he turned to face the houseboat resting far off in the distance. “Ready . . . set . . .”—he took one look back, enticing me with his eyes—“Go!”
I cut through the water with outrageous speed, as if my body had been created for nothing else, but I was no match for him. His body cutting over the top of the water created a wake that would have made a speed boat look like a paddle boat in comparison.
He was standing on the deck with a white, fluffy robe in hand by the time I arrived. My face tightened with speculation when he offered me his hand to pull me from the water—how had he managed to find what I’d searched for with such zeal earlier?
“Swim much?” I asked, taking his hand. “You looked like a shark cutting through the water.”
He beamed. “I love the water. I spend as much time as I can in it or on it.” He held open the robe for me and I stepped into it. He cinched the belt for me and planted a kiss over my cheek before pulling me back into the cabin.
He retrieved a sweatshirt from one of the cabin’s hall closets, which was a mixed blessing, and threw it on over his wet, shining upper-half. He led me back up to the top deck, where we resumed our former seats.
“So . . .” I started, trying to sound as light as possible on the heavy topic I was breeching. “How long have Immortals been around?” The words sounded like a bad line from a sci-fi movie or something, not the thing of everyday conversation.
He looked at me after retracting the anchor. “Getting right to the heart of the matter—you’re actually trying to make sense of all this, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“Maybe because what I’ve just explained to you would cause anyone else to send for the men in white coats.”
I rolled my eyes. “I thought you would have discovered by now that I’m not like everybody else.” That was true enough; how many of my peers did homework on Friday nights, or shied away from the college basketball star, or volunteered a few times a week doing crafts with kiddos? I was strange . . . different, and I knew it.
He looked intently at me. “That’s true. You’re like no other. You’re the most loving, generous, and trusting person I’ve ever met.”
Misguided as his compliment was, it filled me with happiness.
“To answer your question . . .” His tone was serious as he refocused on steering the boat. I tucked my legs up onto my seat and hugged them to my chest, basking in the billowy robe and the present company.
“Like Mortal’s, our history goes back to the beginning of time, so as with anything, truth and events are clouded with time’s passage,” he said without emotion, as if he were reading right from a philosophy textbook. “As Immortals, we are expected to adhere to a strict moral code and carry out a higher calling, though there are some who have corrupted the very reason for their existence.”
“Is John—”
He interjected before I could finish. “Yes, John is an Immortal, as is everyone else who resides within Townsend Manor and its extensive estate.”
He maneuvered the floating palace to its original resting place beside the dock. He switched off the lights, and grabbed one of my hands to pull me up from my seat. “I hope you enjoyed your midnight ride on the SS Bryn.” I heard the smile in his voice as he guided me down the dark stairs and through the hall.
“Shouldn’t I change? I wouldn’t want John to miss this stringy contraption when he goes looking for it to torture the next poor woman who comes unprepared for a midnight swim,” I said, raising my brows at him.
“He won’t miss it,” he assured, before jumping onto the dock. He extended his hands to me once he turned around. “Besides, I’m rather fond of that contraption, and I wouldn’t mind if we made use of it again.”
My eyes narrowed at the man who had a diabolical smile on his face as I leapt on my own, not taking his hands. I underestimated my strength, as the leap I’d meant to make lightly, sent me sailing to the opposite side of the dock. Thankfully, my balance appeared improved as well. I balanced on my tiptoes on the edge of the dock, not ready to go for another swim so soon. A strong arm ringed around my waist and pulled me back flat on my feet.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime. You’re quite precocious, aren’t you?” he asked, sounding pleased. He nuzzled his face into the side of my neck and his warm breath fogged over me, sending my mind into a fog of its own.
“Bryn, I’ve got something important to tell you. Something I need you to know before we get back to the Manor.”
I turned around, my face unaffected by the gravity in his voice. What hadn’t been of great importance tonight during any of our conversations? “What is it?”
He retied the ropes of the boat to the dock, took my hand, and led me from the dock. I took one last look back at the houseboat I would forever have some of my fondest memories from—those where my beloved had come back to me—and smiled when I saw the scrolled script at the base of the boat: My Light.
“I’m working out a plan to get you away from Townsend Manor as soon as possible,” he said. “I’d have you away from there tonight, but a few logistics must be worked out first.”
“Why?” I asked, not alarmed. Location was of little concern to me as long as I was with him.
“I’m not what I appear to be there,” he said, leading me over the same trail we’d come. “I’ve infiltrated John’s Alliance of Inheritors for the past ten years—playing the role of their professor, teaching new Immortals the ways of our kind—but I am not one of them.”
“Am I supposed to understand what any of that means?” I asked, as the Bronco came into view. “Because I don’t have a clue what any of that Inheritor . . . Alliance stuff means.”
He sighed. “I know—it’s all very involved.” He gave my hand a squeeze of encouragement. “There are two opposing doctrines of belief in the Immortal world.” He opened the door for me and assisted me in.
Jumping into the driver’s seat, he eyed me carefully as he continued, “Despite the opposing views, Immortal life is predominately centered upon balance and finding this balance in everything we do. There are separate governing parties on both sides that are called Alliances. John’s Alliance began throwing this balance off a couple decades ago, and this is why I was sent in . . . to drudge up information.”
“What kind of information?” I questioned, as the rose-tinted glasses of a happy world of Immortals came off. It seemed Immortals were plagued with the same unsavory aspirations Mortals were.
“There is so much about this new world you have to learn,” he said, turning onto the main highway. I hadn’t noticed they weren’t on, but he turned on the headlights. They were obviously for those with Mortal eyes, for neither one of us had a problem seeing into the black night. “But I cannot have you around John Townsend or his Alliance any longer than absolutely necessary. He’s incredibly intelligent and even more dangerous,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I will get you out of there soon.”
“And you?” I asked, not caring where I was as long as he was with me.
“My mission is no longer what it once was. You are my mission now.” He grabbed one of my hands, and with it, sent a spark of electricity surging through my body.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, when I remained silent.
I selected my words with care before speaking. “How there’s so much I obviously don’t understand about this new world, but”—I looked out my window, watching the wall of dark green flashing past us—“it all seems so insignificant since I’m with you again.”
“I know just what you mean,” he confessed. “Everything else pales in comparison and feels inconsequential now that I’ve found you.” The warmth in his voice drew my face from its faked distraction, and I scooted across the seat towards him. I tucked into the crutch of his arm as he wound it around me, trying not to think about what I’d gotten myself into.
"We must be quick and quiet. It wouldn’t be prudent for someone to see us together right now—especially given the hour," William whispered to me, where we sat crouching before the gate of Townsend Manor. He’d parked his Bronco in one of the stand-alone garages on the estate once we’d returned—he was right, it was extensive. His eyes were intent upon the Manor before us as he slid the front gate open; just enough for us to both pass through, and shut it silently behind us. He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him as we ran across the front courtyard with Immortal speed.
Within a few seconds time, we came to a stop below a balcony, presumably the one leading off my bedroom’s.
I looked up at the balcony with despair. How were we ever going to get back to our rooms escaping detection? I looked over at William, wide-eyed and apprehensive, but his face was composed, and his eyes were examining me carefully.
"Have you reached your limit of crazy yet today?" His silent whisper was no louder than the wind whistling through the willow tree beside us. His eyes gleamed, and when accompanied by his familiar smile, it led me to believe he was up to something.
"I'm sure," I whispered back, mustering up some of my depleted stores of courage—tonight’s revelations had taken a toll.
His grin grew and he took a step towards me. "Close your eyes,” he said, brushing his hand over them.
I closed them, my heart sped up, and a nervous taste appeared in my mouth. It all happened so quickly; he grabbed me in his arms, I felt him crouch infinitesimally, and then felt my face breaking through air. We were motionless one heartbeat later. I didn’t dare open my eyes for fear of what I'd see. I just laid there in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, with my eyes glued shut.
He chuckled softly and leaned his face against mine. "Okay, you can open now."
My fear melted when I heard his voice. I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was his face, as awe-inspiring as ever. The permanently-implanted sparkle in his pale blue eyes invoked a longing from somewhere deep within. A longing I was not familiar with . . .
His eyes trailed off, enticing me to follow them. When they followed his sweeping gaze, one of his hands thankfully covered my mouth before the cry came out.
"Shhhh, silly,”—he tried to contain a laugh—“or else you're going to get us into a lot of trouble if we’re found so positioned” he whispered, tightening my position against him, “on your bedroom's balcony at this hour.”