“Especially not William,” he emphasized, looking like he was shuddering from the thought of it.
“But—”
“You’ve got five minutes,” he said suddenly, interrupting my oncoming assault of pulling it out of him. “Get dressed and I’ll see you out there.”
“Fifteen minutes,” I bargained, throwing the covers off.
“Ten,” he said. “And that’s my final offer.”
“I’ll take it,” I said as he stepped out the door.
I grabbed my linen training pants to slide them on, but given my mind was focused on everything but the task at hand, my foot caught the inseam and tore a six inch hole through the left leg. Lovely. I could already tell this day of training was not going to bode well for me.
CHAPTER FOUR
REVENGE
“You need to focus,” Patrick commanded, extending his hand to me.
“Would if I could,” I snapped, letting him pull me up. “Do you think I’m enjoying getting my pride handed to me on a silver platter?”
“That’s the third tree you’ve shattered in the past hour when my kicks have gone un-deflected.” He brushed away the dirt on my shoulders, looking me up and down for damage. “William’s gonna kick my butt when he finds out about the beating you took today.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, rolling the top of the Blue Spruce over to the pile where the remains of the other two rested. “Although I might blame you if your dad discovers the mess I’ve made in his training arena.” I lifted the shredded log and heaved it onto the pile.
I referred to the circular clearing on the far north corner of the Hayward’s land as a training arena, although I used the term “arena” loosely. Apart from the two Immortals that exchanged spars and kicks that reverberated off the surrounding mountains, the arena was nothing more than compacted soil surrounded by a circle of trees as packed-in as spectators at a boxing match at the MGM.
“Come on, Bryn. Enough trying to lighten whatever’s going on.” Patrick had snuck up from behind and spun me around. “I’ve never seen you miss a kick—let alone three in a row. What’s going on up there?” he asked, tapping my head.
“Nothing.” I bit my lip, stalling. “Everything. Take your pick.”
“I can’t be as easily appeased as my brother who becomes bewitched by your every word. Explain, please.”
I shook my head. “Sometimes this whole thing I’m putting myself through seems like a waste. The training, studying, making like a good little Immortal—what’s it all for when the Council will never grant William and me a Betrothal?”
“You’re missing the whole point,” Patrick said. My forehead creased, wondering what the “whole point” was. “You’re not doing all of this for them, you’re doing this for him.”
“I have no idea what you mean. Like usual,” I added. “Explain.”
“Let’s put you following the ancient tradition of our Alliance’s training program aside,”—he eyed me as if this should have been obvious, glaringly obvious—“let’s reverse you and William’s roles several months ago and what if you were the only person standing between him and John Townsend?” He tapped my temple. “See any real-life benefit to all this training now?”
I exhaled, knowing he was right, and there were few things I hated more than Patrick being right. I’d been so focused on every other reason I was being forced to go through the training, I’d missed the critical reason I needed to learn it: to protect him. Hadn’t this been the vow I’d made to myself that night after waking from a coma-like-state that had nearly taken both our lives? The very same night I’d discovered the gift that festered inside of me could take an Immortal life?
“Again,” I said, circling back to the center of the arena. “Let’s run through the drill again.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Haven’t I inflicted enough damage on you for one day?” The tone of challenge in his voice was obvious.
“Again!” I yelled over at him, more angry with myself than my teacher.
He hopped up from the felled tree and jogged over to me. “Suit yourself.” He smiled and cracked his neck as I took my readied position in front of him.
He crouched, readying himself. I side-stepped to the right, anticipating his high kick from the left that had knocked me senseless several times already.
He broke his position and straightened, his gaze shifting to the right of my shoulder. “What’s up, William?” he shouted, waving his hand.
He couldn’t have ever loved a woman if he expected I would be fooled so easily. I could feel William’s energy a good mile away and there’s no way I’d still be feinting around Patrick now if he were anywhere near.
Patrick’s kick came half a second later, silent as the wind and fast as a bullet, but my tuck and roll was faster still. I landed behind him and before the dust erupted, I was on my feet. He spun around just in time for his chest to connect with my right heel. I relished his look of shock all the way to his collision with the big pine at the far end of the arena.
My laugh was as loud as the crashing timber. “How’s that for taking the teacher to school?”
“Ouch.” Patrick chuckled as I made my way over to him. “If you tell anyone, I’ll key your Camaro.”
“Sore loser,” I said, extending my hand for him. He took it and I pulled him up from the splinters of pine scattered around him. I pulled a large chunk from his tangled hair. “I’m afraid I made a mess of your lovely locks.”
I felt it a moment after his expression turned to stone. We were no longer alone, the energy surrounding us we both felt was not familiar . . . nor friendly.
“What an opportune situation you’ve provided us with,” a voice called out from the shadow of the trees. It sent chills cascading down my back.
“Consider it an early Christmas present,” Patrick called out. He placed his hand over my back and its firmness calmed my chills. “Although it would sure be nice to know who we’ve so pleased.”
The sound of multiple footfalls came from all around us, like a battalion bearing down on an enemy target. Patrick’s hand pushed me towards the center of the ring as a circle of bodies erupted from the trees. All Immortal, obvious from the shades of blue staring at us and the way the decades of existence tainted their expressions.
I scanned the dozen surrounding us, my stomach dropping when I recognized two of the faces. The two faces that had held William’s arms behind his back when my name had been called out in death. Two beings whose names I didn’t know, but their faces had plagued my dream and awake state for the past three months. Faces I prayed I’d never see again, but somehow knew I would.
I cleared my throat, trying to force my vocal chords open. “They’re from—”
“John Townsend’s Alliance,” Patrick finished, glaring around the ring of men that were easily double, if not triple, my size. “I thought I smelt your foul scent, Andre.” He nodded at a man standing several steps farther in than the rest. “These your newest set of goons created to do John’s dirty work?”
Andre sniffed the air. “Patrick, Patrick, Patrick. I knew I smelt a rat, although I thought it would be the other Hayward rat.” He wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air. His eyes fell on me and he eyed Patrick’s hand resting on my back. “I guess Miss Dawson found she preferred another Hayward. But you’ll do for now. We can take care of William later.”
I shook Patrick’s hand off, charging forward in Andre’s direction. Patrick’s elbow stopped my advance.
“She finally came around, I guess,” he said, brushing his shirt. “Why settle for my bore of a brother when she can have all this?”
“If there was anytime in your life to be serious, now would be the time,” I sneered through gritted teeth.
“Especially when that life is so near its end,” Andre flashed us a smile and snapped his fingers. The brigade surrounding us took a unified step forward.
Patrick snorted through his nose. “You mean you aren’t here to shine my shoes?”
Andre unbuttoned his suit jacket, loosening his tie. The eleven others followed suit. “We’re here to complete a mission,”—he eyed me as if in explanation—“and to send a message,” he finished, looking Patrick over head to toe.
“John wants the girl alive,” he hollered as I sucked in a breath, favoring death to whatever I’d endure at the mercy of John. “Kill the rat.”
“Remember your training, Bryn,” Patrick ordered, the lightness no longer in his voice. “I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine.”
“I won’t let you down,” I vowed and although there were twelve men—likely well-trained and merciless—to our two, these men wouldn’t succeed in at least one of their missions today. There’s no way I would let them take Patrick’s life. I would die in my defense of him as readily as I would his brother.
Andre took a step forward and the rest followed, closing the gap between us to twenty paces. Patrick and I turned our backs to one another and began side-stepping in a circle, waiting for the avalanche of bodies to descend. Andre winked and kissed the air in my direction before turning into a streak of blue bolting our direction.
It was like viewing a meteor shower in the night sky as twelve bodies streaked towards us. Three sets of hands seized on me, but their holds were barely set before I was able to crouch into a sweeper kick, sending them sprawling to the ground.
There were two more on either side of me instantly, one’s fist connecting with my jaw. The pain was as intense as any I’d known as a Mortal, but only fueled the fire I could feel raging inside. My arms and legs were a fury with movement, delivering the strikes my teacher had taught me so well. Instinct and training took over, as if my body was being commanded by some third party, because I was making no conscious command of it. I heard the same yells of pain and surprise behind me, knowing Patrick was more than holding his own.
My kicks and punches began to slow and only then did my consciousness resurface enough to realize I was only thwarting off two men, the remaining ten not in view. I lunged at them feet first, my legs spread in a v formation, sending them careening off into the tree-line before spinning around.
Patrick was moving faster and with more skill than I’d ever seen him, but it was futile against the ten men pummeling him from every angle.
“Patrick!” I screamed, lunging at the ball of Immortals who were gripping their fingers into his skin in a way that terrified me. I knew what those fingers were capable of and what they were taking from him. His face fell a moment later, his body going limp as it fell to the ground.
I charged forward, my fingers circling around the first neck I came in contact with, and something exploded inside me. My vision blurred, my senses muted; I could feel and see nothing but the fire raging inside me. My skin was sparking with my rage.