Eternal Eden

I’d never mentioned the terror of the Council chambers to William before, and I was fairly sure he’d never seen them, but he didn’t let any look of surprise or fear cross his face as we were drug down the multitude of stairs descending into the chambers. I would know too—I was manic looking over my shoulder every few seconds, making sure he was still behind me. The most dreadful thing of the whole encounter was my terror he’d disappear at any moment. I couldn’t let that happen, not without saying my own good-bye.

  The march down the endless stairs passed with amazing speed this second time, and I was sure it had everything to do with the sentencing awaiting us below. While I wasn’t entirely certain what punishment John and the Council would dole out, I hoped for the best case scenario, and prepared myself for the worst.

  As I saw it, the best case scenario would be the Council dismissing William from their Alliance and sending him back to his own, warning him to never return; and I would stay behind to become John’s Betrothed . . . or whatever he chose to call me.

  Worst case scenario—and thinking about this sent scraps of glass tearing through my insides—included William and I sentenced to an eternal death, and while the horror held within this option was nearly all-consuming, I took a sliver of comfort in hoping we’d find one another again in whatever afterlife was held for us.

  The faint glow of light now fully embracing us, I stepped down onto the cold, stone floor of the chamber. My feet were bare, and although nearly all of John’s estate was covered in cool marble, the dark, smooth rock below me had a unique chill.

  I took a quick survey of the cavernous room that opened before us, and had a sudden attack of déjà vu (and it had nothing to do with my first meeting with the Council over a week ago). I scanned my memories, replaying images and moments that would define where this feeling of foresight came from.

   I stopped in my tracks when it was recalled. The stunning reminder invoked enough physical force in me to bring Thomas and Dante to an abrupt stop . . . for maybe a second, but it was enough to alert William.

  “What is it? Are you alright?” The voice he used with me was such a stark contrast to the one that had last roared such anger.

  “Quiet,” John chided from behind. “I don’t want to ask Andrew to administer another one of his specialties.”

  I heard William snort his defiance, but not able to bear the thought of watching him take another hit like he had earlier, I tossed my head back and mouthed, “I’m fine.” I managed a smile, but he didn’t look the least bit appeased by my ruse.

  I turned my head forward so he couldn’t witness the fear playing over my face as I recalled the dream that had haunted my sleep weeks ago. The dream, which seemed more of a vision now—a future insight as to what was to come. The vision where I’d seen myself dressed in a white nightgown, standing in a dark, vast room, trapped in between a high wall of flames.

  It was then I knew—no matter what William said, no matter what was pleaded—it would be me who would pay the price for our love, and the relief that swept through me was like the first breath of air a drowning victim takes. I would be no more after today, but William would, and there was perfect peace in knowing this. The vision bolstered my confidence further, and as I approached the emotionless faces of the assembled Councilmen, I met their stares with a confrontational stare of my own.

  A smile played at the edge of Draco’s lips when he saw the determination in my face. “Imagine seeing you here again so soon, Miss Dawson.” Draco shattered the silence. “And under such deplorable conditions.”

  Thomas and Dante came to a stop, me with them, several yards in front of the council table.

  “Yes, imagine that, Draco,” I fired back. “I just couldn’t stay away.”

  Andrew and the other nameless guard stopped beside us, Stella’s hand still glued to William’s shoulder, and John marched into the empty space between the accused and their judges.

  “Bryn knew nothing of my work here, Draco,” William said, cutting through several mumbled conversations. “And there were no inappropriate encounters that we shared, as John will no doubt try to convince you of. This can be proven by a mere review of the color of both our eyes.”

  John exhaled sharply, looking as if ready to interject, but Draco raised his hand to stop him.

  “What you say may be true regarding Bryn being unaware of your treachery here for the past ten years, but your behavior—whether fully consummated or not—cannot be argued as being anything but inappropriate. Neither of you had a right to be together as you were, and Bryn being formally Betrothed to John last night make your actions this morning entirely unacceptable.”

  “I don’t deny I’ve made many mistakes and been quite irresponsible with my Indulgences when it comes to having been with Bryn, but I was the pursuer. She is barely a month old to this life, and does not have a full sense of the significance and importance in adhering to the Immortal way.” William didn’t falter in his response, demonstrating how carefully he’d planned his defense of me.

  He looked at me with apology in his eyes. “It was, and is nothing more than a random fling. She will have forgotten me as easily as I her, soon after I am gone. There is no need to punish her as well.”

  The words cut me superficially, for I knew the blatancy of the lies in them, and he was forgiven the moment he spoke the blasphemous words. He’d spoken them for no other reason than to protect me from something he could not bear. I remained silent and strong beside him, knowing no matter how much he pled, it was me, and not him who would be punished.

  “Thank you, William—you’ve made your statement. I’d like to hear John’s accusations now.” Draco said, continuing to run the trial. He extended his hand to John, summoning the forthcoming prosecution.

  Looking like a seasoned attorney, John turned to the six Council members before him. “As I relayed to you all early this morning, I stumbled across an intriguing piece of information late last night.”

  Turning to William, John continued, “Does the name Evie Longfellow conjure up any memories, Mr. Hayward?”

  William bristled when he heard the name, but regained his composure quickly. “Yes, I knew Evie awhile back. I haven’t seen her in a long time, though,” he finished, sounding like he was putting his words together carefully.

  “Had you heard she converted to my Alliance of Inheritors a couple decades ago?”

  “I heard of her conversion, but had not heard to whose Alliance she’d joined. Again, I barely knew her,” William emphasized.

  “Did you happen to notice her here last night?” John asked, with level innocence.

  William paused infinitesimally. “No, I didn’t. She was here?”

  John chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Yes, she was. I’m most surprised you didn’t notice her, but perhaps you were a little on edge given the impending Betrothal of your . . . fling girl.”

  John turned to me. “Did William ever tell you about his relationship with Evie?”

  Now it was my turn to bristle. “Not that I can recall,” I replied coolly, careful to keep signs of jealousy at bay.

  John looked pleased by my response, obviously feeling the need to enlighten me. “Evie and William were set to be Betrothed—”

  “There was never a formal Betrothal,” William replied venomously.

  So this had been one of the women Patrick told me about that day on the beach. One of the women William politely refused in his search for me. Whatever hints of jealousy had taken root, withered immediately.

  “You said, she said . . .”—John waved his hand dismissively—“I suppose the point of my bringing it up is that I believe she still bears you a bit of ill-will from your rejection. When she asked me what the most illustrious, golden-boy of the Hayward brothers was doing with my Alliance, I simply couldn’t resist the temptation”—John spun around to face William, a wildness burning in his eyes—“to ask her what the HELL she was talking about!”

  William closed his eyes a
nd shook his head, now understanding where, and from whom, our fates had been sealed.

  “I told her she must have the wrong man, for my William Winters had been with me for over ten years. I’d comforted him when he’d wandered to my estate, confused as to what had happened. I taught him when he was ignorant to the stringent ways of the Immortal life. I promoted him when his promise and gifts stood far and above others in my Alliance.” John’s voice filled every inch of the cavernous room. “I TRUSTED YOU!” He lunged in front of William, screaming an inch from his face, but William did not falter or break John’s hate-filled stare.

  John turned back toward the Council table and placed one hand in his jacket, recomposed. “But Evie was absolutely certain my William and her William were one in the same. So sure in fact, she pulled an aged photo from the interior of her wallet.”

  John flashed a smile at me, and lowered his voice to make it seem as if talking to me privately. “I think she still has a little thing for your William, my dear,” he sneered with a wink, and then was business-like again.

  “Low and behold, that photo was all the convincing I needed. It had to be one hundred years old and was worn, cracked and peeling from the passage of time, but there was no mistaking the face and eyes looking back at me from that photo. That rough, sort of entitled look about your face and the smug confidence in your eyes . . . I knew then I’d been betrayed.” John turned ceremoniously to the two on trial, and the five holding us captive, his stance wide and his hands clasped together in front of him.

  “Of course, the Hayward name carries a great deal of clout in the Guardian world, and is more known notoriously in ours. With your father being the Chancellor of your Council, there was no mistaking why you’d been sent here—to drudge up as much information on our operation as possible and send it back to your pacifist, bleeding-heart, bunch of Guardians that are loosing this battle because they refuse to get their hands dirty,” John spoke so coolly, I almost wished his raging tirade back.

   “If it’s any consolation to you, I believe Evie felt a twinge of guilt when she realized I had no idea of your calculating treachery. She left rather quickly after that . . .” John’s fingers stoked over his chin.

  “Thank you, John,” Draco cut in. “You’ve made your account of the espionage of William Hayward. What is your account of William and Bryn’s illicit behavior?”

  A few pairs of eyebrows raised in obvious interest at this turn in the questioning.

  John clucked his tongue as an old woman would when showing her disdain for something. “There was the compromising situation we found them in this morning of course, but there’d been something nagging me from the first time I had to send Ben and Troy to retrieve William from compromising one of our most stringent codes.” John stared pointedly at William. “Immortals shall not intermingle with Mortals,” he recited, as if William had never heard it before.

  “Nothing seemed to add up at first—why our social outcast professor would go to such lengths to surround himself with this measly Mortal.” His hand gestured towards me. “And then risk his very own life to save her.” John said formally, looking at me if I was barely worthy of the space I took up in this dank cave.

  “Once she was Immortalized and they were both here at the estate, I couldn’t help but notice how overly protective he was around her—how he watched her every move, and how I felt the tension radiating from him whenever I came near her. He attempted to keep a blasé front about the whole thing, but there was no mistaking he had some feelings for our Miss. Dawson. I wrote it off as being some silly crush . . . I mean how could any warm-blooded male not have a partial fixation on my lovely Bryn?”

  Stella hissed her disapproval, while I rolled my eyes. John was as adept at exaggeration as he was at making my skin crawl.

  “My suspicions were confirmed this morning, although I’d severely underestimated their equal desire for one another.” John’s eyes narrowed on me.

  Draco’s voice cut in again, “Are there any other allegations you wish to make against Miss Dawson or Mr. Hayward?”

   “I’ll spare everyone the rest of the details as the cruxes of my allegations are stated,” John answered.

  Draco nodded. “Now that we’ve heard your allegations, what punishment do you request?”

  Despite the inner peace I’d found realizing this day would end in my death and not his, my stomach still lurched when the nearness of the occasion was upon me. I waited for the damning words to come from John’s mouth, and the sequential approval from the Council.

  “Given the severity of their actions, and the penalty our code calls for . . . I request the immediate deaths of Mr. William Hayward—”

  My eyes flew frantically to William, just in time to see him heave a sigh of discernable relief. I felt my world ending—John had said the wrong name. I was so sure of my vision and what it had foretold—William lived and I died.

  “And Miss Bryn Dawson,” John concluded.

  William’s face flashed to me, filled with the same terror that had been mine when I’d heard his name called out in request for death.

  He bellowed his protest, “This is absurd!” William addressed the Council directly. “I’ve given you all my sworn statement that Bryn is innocent on all accounts. The request John has made is ludicrous given her innocence. We all know our ways are stringent—no matter what Immortal following you adhere to—but they are not corrupt, nor merciless.” William’s voice turned pleading, and desperation was obvious on his face. “Even as large and powerful as your Alliance is here, if you rule to honor the request to end Bryn Dawson’s life, you will unite other Alliances on both sides to come against you.”

  William seemed to have hit a weak spot in their armor. I saw every member of the Council (John excluded) frown in acknowledgement, but they remained quiet.

  “This is not right!” William screamed with conviction. I saw Stella cover her ears, and perhaps I would have too if my arms weren’t constrained, and it wasn’t the voice of my beloved ringing off my eardrums.

  Draco held up his hand towards William, requesting his silence. “We’ve heard both sides of this account, and they are both strong enough to require some serious deliberation.”

  Draco turned his head to John. “Please excuse us while we deliberate. We will summon you back when we’ve made our decision.”

  John bowed his head and turned, looking expectantly at the captors holding firmly to William and me, before walking towards the entry-like room that comes off the stairway leading into the vast Council chamber room. I was turned around and pushed forward, William closely behind me, as we followed John.

  In the holding room, while our fates were being decided, John paced in between the two of us. Our own respective jailers kept us on opposite sides of the room, facing into the corner; an obvious attempt to keep us from communicating. Several minutes passed silently, where I focused on nothing but the steady breathing of the man in the opposite corner. 

  William’s voice filled the stagnant, empty space. “I’m so sorry, Bryn. If I could go back, I’d change it all—I’d erase myself from your life—”

  “That’s quite enough, Mr. Hayward,” John commanded. “Your statement has been heard, and I for one, would be quite content to never hear your pitiful voice again.”

  “I wouldn’t change a thing,” I whispered through the airways of my tightened throat. I felt the grips tighten over my upper arms in warning.

   The next sound I heard was grotesquely familiar, followed by the sound of air rushing from his lungs. I spun my head away from the corner I was staring into to see what had happened. He was bent over slightly, one of his guards at his side with the balled up fist that had initiated the blow causing the sickening sound.

  “Stop it!” I screamed, wriggling against my captors. “William?” The struggling wasn’t getting me anywhere.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He sounded already recovered, and when I managed another look over my sh
oulder, he was standing just as solidly as if nothing had happened.

  “If I hear so much as another disgruntled sigh from either one of you, I’ll order a blow be delivered to Bryn instead.” Of course, John would arrow in on William’s weak spot. I was just as capable of recovering as he was (perhaps not as quickly), but I knew William would utter nothing else with this ultimatum on the table.

  “We’re ready,” a voice called out from the chambers, its raspy origins indicative of Julius. 

  John motioned us forward, and he followed behind. William urged his party in front of mine, resolve scorching in his eyes. As we walked, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear that the certainty I’d had of my vision, had perhaps been misplaced.

  Instead of symbolizing my death, was the circle of flames that held me within them an indicator of what my future would be after this fateful day and the verdict read from the Council? A lifeless, pitifully small void that kept me encapsulated in the agony of my loss, the flames jailing me, keeping me separated from him.

  I urged these thoughts from my mind. I wouldn’t allow these doubts to take seed and grow roots, crippling my bustling courage. He would not die today . . . or any day forward.

  My captors lurched me to a stop with more force than necessary in front of the Councilmen. I heard William growl his disapproval at the men on either side of me.

  John’s footsteps could still be heard following behind us, when William’s last ditch plea commenced, “I know the Council’s decision has been made, and with all due respect, I would like to make one final appeal to you.” His face cut through all the carefully constructed pretenses he’d managed to this point, allowing the sincerity of his words to ring. “I understand the necessity for punishment to be dealt in such a case as this, and you must realize my death carries a much greater message and warning to my fellow Guardians. We all know that Bryn’s death is superfluous and merely requested due to the injured ego of one man.”

  His head turned to me, still emotion-filled with what appeared to be a plea for my forgiveness. “My life is void as soon as you command it, Gentlemen. My only request is that I have your assurances Bryn leaves here today unharmed.” 

  “NO!” I shouted with such pain, a few of the Councilmen’s faces looked bewildered when they viewed the woman shrieking in agony before them. It was in this weak moment—between the sobs that felt they would tear me apart—I knew the Council saw through William’s assurances of the casualness of our relationship. Even to a blind-mute, there could be no mistaking the love shared between us. I tried desperately to form the words of my rebuttal—to remind the Council who it was that needed to die here today—but my weakened spirit and sobs crippled me as the seconds ticked by.

  “Gentleman?” William asked expectantly. “Are we in agreement then?”

  “Again, Mr. Hayward, the Council thanks you for your admissions here today, but with all due respect,” Draco mimicked William’s words with spite. “We’ve already made our decision.”

  John came to his resting place between us, facing the Council with anticipation as Draco continued, “We all agree with you, Mr. Hayward, that you are the more guilty of the two parties in question.”

  I tried to straighten the limp limbs of my lower body, but couldn’t find the strength I needed to get them to respond. I rocked like a toddler in the rigid holds of Thomas and Dante.

  “But we are also quite aware of the popularity you have within the Guardian community, and your influence on them. While we are the strongest Alliance in existence, I don’t believe we could resist the force of an attack from the entire community of Guardians when they came at us.” A few Councilmen nodded their obvious agreement, but John looked obstinate and in absolute disagreement.

  “Our actions of taking your life today would unite them all, and we would have a war on our hands . . .”

  William’s face contorted with doubt.

   “You can’t possibly believe with all the previous indicators, and now the newest little addition to your impressive repertoire of gifts, they would let their so-called chosen one’s death go unpunished?” Draco spat the words, as if they were venom in his mouth.

  William broke into some kind of frantic rebuttal, but I didn’t hear any of it. The tide had turned. My vision was correct. Relief flooded me, making my head light with euphoria when the dread that had been mine imagining William’s death, wisped away—like a feather in a light breeze.

  I was brought back from my euphoric state when Draco’s chair screeched behind him, and he flashed up in his spot. “That is quite enough from you, Mr. Hayward. Another word from you and we will make the continued proceedings today less than comfortable—”

  William shouted back defiantly at him, “Make them less comfortable!”

   Draco turned to me. “I wasn’t referring to you Mr. Hayward, when I made my threat.”

  Again, these men all knew where William’s weak spot was in his seemingly flawless suit of armor that shone with his courage and selflessness—there was one gaping flaw, positioned over his heart . . . me.

  Draco’s normal calm and composure resurfaced just as quickly as his outburst had, and he recommenced the businesslike proceedings. “It is the unanimous verdict of the Council here today, that in order to serve as some penance for the wrongs and treachery done to John Townsend, we rule for the immediate and eternal death of . . .”

  Stillness overcame me, and peace comforted me. Not sure of what kind of afterlife was held for those that passed through the confines of Immortality or Mortality, I felt reasonably certain I would be able to carry the sweet memories of the time William and I had shared, and the love that surpassed an eternity of lifetimes in the short time we’d been allotted. With this certainty came the courage and strength I needed to straighten the wobbling legs beneath me, and stand strongly as my verdict was read.

  Draco paused, a calculated attempt at creating an ominous air, before speaking the name I already knew.

  “Miss Bryn Dawson.”

    The words met my ears with an immediate kind of liberation, and I let out a relieved sigh.

  And then I heard the shattering screams beside me, and saw the man I loved fall to the ground, his hands gripping his head. Another scream roared through his chest, causing the edges of my soul to weaken, as if it couldn’t handle the pain searing through the being that made up its other half.

  There were no words to describe the agony charging through the form of William crumpled on the ground, nor my instant and equally matched agony tearing through me having to witness his pain. I couldn’t imagine anything more horrific than what was being played before me . . . and I realized this with the knowledge that my own death was minutes away.

  I struggled like a lunatic against the men holding me back. They must have mistaken my urgent struggles from being read my death sentence, and not because the one I cared about more than myself lay on the floor wrenching with anguish.

  The two men who’d kept hold of William, had let him fall and they now stood over him cautiously, looking uncomfortable. Stella had kneeled beside him when he’d gone down, and she stayed there with her hand continuing to rest monumentally on his back. Her eyes glanced up to mine, with wickedness burning in them. Her lips turned up in a smile of vindication.

  I felt a spark ignite within me, lighting something I hadn’t felt before—a physical strength that grew with each passing moment. I lurched forward again, and this time, I was able to budge the monster-sized men holding me back. Their surprise was matched by my own, as I felt their grips tighten with a steel-trap-like effect. A spiteful smile was my only response as I continued to feel the strength building within me, as whatever had ignited it burnt with furiousness through my veins.

  John, who’d been standing over William with the stance of a conqueror, turned his head to me and winked. The tongues of spreading fire burst, and when I lurched forward this time, I broke easily through the hands that held me. John’s eyes widened, and
he took a defensive stance, as if interpreting my jailbreak and sprint forward to be intended for him, but I wouldn’t waste a moment of my temporary freedom on the likes of John Townsend.

  It took me five strides to get to him, and on the fifth I slid into a crouch beside where he laid, covering him with my arms. I looked up briefly in response to the two shadows hovering over us, but the faces of the two men looked just as confused and torn as before, and I didn’t worry—at least immediately—they would be pulling us apart.

   I knew I had precious seconds only, so I leaned my head down to where his forehead rested against the stone floor. His body didn’t respond to my sudden closeness. I could only hope the words I said to him now would make their way to his consciousness someday soon when he recovered—my final tribute and goodbye to all that had been ours.

  “William?” I questioned idiotically, not really expecting an answer—although I thought I detected the slightest bit of recognition harden over his limp body.

  “You will always know how much I loved you after today, and I will forever know how much you loved me, too.” I removed one of my hands from his shoulder so I could sweep the long tangles of hair that had fallen over his face. When I settled it behind his ear, I kissed his cheek.

  I felt a cool hand come to rest just above the silk of the back of my nightgown and all the prior strength tearing through me came to a halt, and I weakened beneath it. I didn’t need to check behind me to see whose hand it was. Only one person I knew of in this room could be guilty of incapacitating the power of another Immortal.

  Weakened beyond repair, or so it seemed, John came around me and grabbed hold of me from under my arms, pulling me back—threatening to separate me from the one I held to with urgency. I wasn’t done yet . . . I still had one last thing to say.

  John continued to pull on me, and in my weakened state, his efforts managed to pry one of my arms away from William’s back. The instant my arm parted from him, he came back to life—he came back to the wretched reality that still held us.

  His head and upper body snapped up from the floor, resting in a straightened position over his knees bent beneath him. His head turned in my direction, and as my other hand tore away from him, William reached for it, grabbing it before it was out of reach. Even against the force of Stella’s formidable gift, he pulled me back to him, easily besting John’s efforts.

  I didn’t need anymore than a second now, and as my desperate eyes met his—the emotions blackening them staggered me—I leaned in to kiss his lips for the last time, letting them linger there for a moment, until I saw John and his four men preparing their offensive.

  When I removed my lips from his and recaptured my wits—it was silly I was still having these kind of school girl reactions given the gravity of the situation pressing upon us—I stared into his eyes and whispered, “I’ll see you again soon. I’ll meet you in your dreams.”

  I witnessed the acknowledgement and the devastation that soon followed. Looking entirely depleted, William nodded his head. No matter what physically happened to me, no one could ever take me away from William’s mind. That’s where he’d been introduced to me, and that’s where I would now remain.

  I felt multiple sets of hands affix to me, pulling me away from the haven of his arms, but this time, I didn’t fight it. Having said what I’d needed to, I would only be delaying the inevitable, and I knew every passing second would drip another drop of hemlock into the veins of my beloved; who was now grasping for me frantically as space continued to separate us. Needing no guard to hold him back with Stella’s hand affixed, the four men pulled me behind the Council table.

  I didn’t fight against them, but I kept my back to them so I could keep my eyes on William. So it would be his figure that would calm and guide me as I left this world. His face that would be the last one my eyes would see and my mind would process, burning it with the finality of death into my soul.

  I felt a hard edge crush against my heels, and then another, as I was drug up the pillar of stairs to the table that had sent a shiver of dread down my spine when I’d first seen it. The table I now knew, for which purpose it served.

  My eyes didn’t waiver from William. I witnessed the beads of sweat that formed upon his forehead while he concentrated, attempting to overcome Stella’s hold on him. I witnessed him growl in misery when he couldn’t conquer the numbing power she had on him, as he watched the four men continue to pull me up the stairs. His eyes were wild, and in between surges of concentration, he’d yield momentarily, panting from his useless efforts, before tearing into the next bout of concentration.

  I couldn’t decide which had been worse to witness—William’s writhing body crushed beneath the weight of pain, or the violent frustration from his strength rendered useless exhibited before me now.

  I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Please, William, stop!” I shouted, making my selfishness known over the swarms of chaos filling the room. I didn’t want this to be my last memory of him.

  His demeanor changed almost immediately at my request. The furrowed brow of frustration and teeth clenched in concentration, relaxed, and a rare beauty came over his face. He was filling my growing darkness with peace. He was making the passage between worlds bearable, and I felt the tears form before they spilled down my cheeks, wetting the pale silk below.

  We must have reached the top landing of the stairs, for the steady beat of each stair pounding against my heels ceased. My assertion was confirmed when Thomas picked me up and laid me down on the table. It was even colder and more cryptic feeling than my nightmares had done it justice. My breath grew heavy and labored, and my grip on sanity began to peel away in quickening layers.

  I recognized these frantic reactions had only escaped when I turned my eyes away from his. I turned my head, now lying flat against the stone table, towards his still beautiful face—and while the planes of his face remained flat and unlined, I saw molten torture flowing in his eyes.

  I smiled weakly at him, hoping I’d managed the level of reassurance in it I’d intended, as I felt the chill of the metal shackles cinch into place over my wrists, and next my ankles. I understood the reason they’d become a vestige of this death doomed table, but they were needless in my case. I was going nowhere. I would accept the deepest of punishments without a fight, with the knowledge William would live.

  The metal restraints in place, the four men swiftly descended away from the darkest of Immortal places. I held no contempt for them as their apologetic faces graced over me, before their hurried footsteps could be heard descending the stairs, leaving me alone—nothing but the comforting solace of William’s eyes to keep me sane.

  His eyes shot away from mine for a moment, flitting between the seven new figures ascending the stairs. Panic suffocated me as I watched their dark, determined faces survey me with duty-filled regard.

  “I swear to you all that I will hunt each one of you down and make you pay.” If I hadn’t been watching him, I wouldn’t have believed the fierce words were coming from his mouth. “Each of you will suffer,” he continued, glaring his hate at each of the ascending Councilmen. “I will not rest until your Immortal bodies are dead and burning in a fire I’ll never let burn out . . . trapping your souls in an eternal Hell,” he spat. His words frightened me, and I didn’t miss that they frightened a few of his intended targets as well.

  It was John who responded with his standard, unimpressed tone. “You will try . . . but if you ever come back here, you will suffer the same fate Bryn is now,” John threatened.

  The thought was too much to bear. “Please William, don’t,” I screamed my plea.

  “Listen to her,” John instructed, nearing the top stair. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you did so much as show your face around here one day in the future. I don’t think the Council would let you off the hook so easily again.” He stopped, and turned his head to face William. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again soon.”

  The veins in Will
iam’s face were bursting through his skin, and his whole body was quivering from the emotions flowing within. “You will die before I do John, that I vow to you. The only difference in our forthcoming deaths is that I will look forward to mine and what awaits me there.” William’s eyes tracked back to me then, indicating what would wait for him.

  “So melodramatic all the time, Mr. Hayward,” John chided, still sounding unimpressed. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see . . . although Bryn doesn’t have long to wait to see.” He chuckled, shaking his head with his amusement.

  They were upon me then, the seven men taking their final, unified step which would place them on the flat stone landing where I now lay, awaiting their verdict.

  Perhaps knowing his threats had done nothing to change what was coming, he turned his eyes back to me, not wanting to waste the last moments we had together in this world.

  “I love you!” he cried over the space separating us, and the echo it came at me with after hitting off all the walls, corners, and crevices in the room, sounded like a symphony playing a song that had been written especially for me.

  I bit my lip to keep the calm mask I held over my face from falling, and another tear escaped my eye and trickled down the left side of my face. I nodded my reply, because words were no longer attainable in this world I was now in—caught between the strongest and truest of loves, and the darkest form of evil which would settle for nothing but my life in its quest for blood.

  Desperate as my eyes were to examine what was taking place immediately around me, I kept them locked on William’s face. His façade was melting at the nearness of my life ending, but I concentrated on gazing over the lines of his face, and keeping my breathing controlled—hoping these pieces of absorption would get me through this final stage with composure.

  After all, William had given me what I’d requested—the final image of him not being an agonized one—and I would do all within my power to give him the same; so the image of me coiling in pain as my life was sucked from my very core would not haunt his dreams and nightmares alike.

  I felt seven sets of hands come into contact with my skin, gripping over equally spaced locations on my now trembling body—the seven members of the Council, John now serving as a punisher. Their fingers felt cool on my skin, almost frigidly so, but they were strong and emitted determination.

  John was immediately above me, having placed his hands over each of my shoulders, and I could feel his eyes burning into me, willing me to look at him; but when I stayed firmly focused on William, John turned his head to the figure that was keeping me centered.

  “Look familiar, William?” John’s maliciousness spewed from his mouth in a concentrated dose. William’s eyes didn’t leave mine to look at him, but his sudden rigidness encouraged John forward. 

  “The account of your Immortalization always stuck with me when I heard it told long ago. How loathsome one must feel knowing he was the one responsible for the obliteration of his entire family . . .”

  William winced, but refused to look away from me.

  “Stop it, John,” I whispered, fresh tears flowing down my face.

  An evil chuckle sounded in John’s throat. “Here’s to reliving the past, Mr. Hayward . . . enjoy watching yet another woman you love die, while you watch helplessly on your knees.”

  William slumped forward, and the age of living the decades he had clouded his hollow eyes. I prayed for the physical pain I knew would be coming to release me from the far more devastating kind I was experiencing now. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Draco signal the Council with a nod of his head, and I braced myself for what I could only imagine coming.

  And then I felt it.

  It was like nothing I’d ever felt in my life—both Mortal and Immortal—and as I searched my overwhelmed mind for words to describe it, none were nearly fitting. Agony, excruciating, misery, burning, insufferable, blazing . . . none came even close to describing what raged through my body. It threw me into sudden convulsions, and my eyes were forced from William’s as my head threw itself around.

  “NO!”

  I heard the excruciating wail, and sure as I was of it coming from William, and as desperately as I wanted to turn to face and comfort him—despite the hell coursing through me—something much stronger, and with inescapable hold, wouldn’t allow my focus to take place anywhere else but what was currently scorching every fiber of my body.

  No, scorching wasn’t nearly right either. It was violent—like a hundred wild animals tearing the flesh from my bones and sucking the marrow from within.

  Another surge of intensity overthrew my thought process, and my spent mind sputtered a weak response, but one that was the closest I could come up with. Given the exponential weakening taking place within my mind and body with each passing second, it would be the strongest explanation I knew I could find. It was like feeling the life siphoned out from every vein, muscle fiber, organ, and most importantly of all . . . your spirit.

  And that was it, my mind went blank and words couldn’t play through it anymore. The lightening hot streaks of life-sucking spires that emitted from each finger of the seventy resting over my skin, took all remaining thoughts, dreams, and hopes. I was an empty shell, whose flesh and blood physicality was the only part of me still alive.  It was ironic. Here I lay as an Immortal . . . dying.

  Another earth-shattering scream reminded me of something. I tried with herculean strength to hold onto the last scrap of my mind that would remember who this screaming being was, and then William’s face flashed over the nearly dead remains of my brain.

  My waning eyes found him, but I did not find him in the same position I was sure I’d seen him in before, and there was a new figure beside him—also familiar and who invoked warm memories. There were now four motionless bodies lying in heaps around his prostrated figure. I saw him thrust the plane of his hand into the throat of a man standing beside him, sending him flying backwards

  I viewed the scene with dumbfounded confusion, but it was hazed and blurred so badly by the dreadful fingers still pulling the final shreds of life from me. My eyes became heavy, and I had to concentrate all my remaining reserves on keeping them open as—whether reality or some dream like vision I was having now—the last figure I would see would be him when my eyes finally gave out from the destiny awaiting me.

  The man fell to the ground, sounding like rock colliding into metal. William turned to the encroaching stairs, his eyes meeting mine again, and the glimmer of hope burning in them filled me with something, but I was too far beyond emotional comprehension now. There was nothing left within me to recognize what he was portraying, nor to respond to it. There was only him in those final moments, and that was enough for me.

  My body was burning, but my soul rose above the flames in a trail of smoke that escaped into the garden of his soul. He was my eternal Eden—where I would forever dwell.

  As I prepared to close my eyes, and free myself from the fires siphoning the final threads of life from me, I felt the boney fingers falling from me in unmatched intervals.

  My eyes were weak though, and my spirit even weaker, so I couldn’t process why they’d been removed. Maybe their job was complete, my life completely removed, the only remaining remnants of it shooting reflexively through me, allowing another second or two of vision and cloudy, misshapen thoughts . . .

   I heard a couple shouts of pain, which were followed by crashing sounds, as something or things, careened over the sharp edges of the stone staircase. My eyes moved from the blinding, incandescent white light above me, and my muddled sight confirmed what I’d felt—the Councilmen were no longer standing over me. My eyes flew about, but I couldn’t see any of them . . . where had they gone? And why was I still alive, faintly as it was?

  My eyes found him, and all the hysteria dissolved away as he sprinted over the last few stairs and glided to my side.

  “Bryn!” he shouted, sounding grave and unsure. “Can you hear me?”
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  I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t find any muscle coordination to nod my head, so I just let my eyes fall upon his, and rest there for what felt like a long time.

  He took my shoddy response skeptically, but some of the stress melted from his eyes when he leaned down to kissed my forehead, and whispered, “I’m here now, my love. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

  I attempted the tiniest of smiles, and took his worry-filled chuckle to be an acknowledgment I’d managed some kind of a contortion with my mouth.

  “I’m sorry, William,” a frantic voice called out as he joined us at the sacrificial alter. He was so familiar, but I was too far gone and not going to let the final remnants of my consciousness wander from the man hovering above me. “I shouldn’t have waited so long—”

  “Don’t apologize, Patrick. You’re here just in time.” My dark angel replied, his eyes not leaving me.

  “Well I suppose this explains Nathanial’s hunch . . . and we thought you were crazy powerful.” The voice of the other man was familiar as well, as he gazed around at the chaos decorating the room. “Come on, let’s get her out of here.”

  My dark angel’s face grew determined, and he was all business, moving swiftly over the four metal shackles encircling my lifeless ankles and wrists. Freed in less time than it took me to suck in a ragged breath in an attempt to say something, he placed his strong arms under me and lifted my body to him.

  The only assurance I was still alive, was my mind still working—weak and disjointed as it was—at least enough to be overcome by his beauty, and comforted by his embrace. He tucked my comatose head carefully under his chin, and I heard him exhale deeply, thick with resolve, and then we were flying down the stairs.

  Despite the gentle lock he’d put my head into, my eyes were able to move around the room, and I did not miss the withered bodies of the Councilmen on the ground as he leapt over them. Some lay quiet and in unnatural positions over the stairs, and a couple lay wrenching in obvious pain on the floor beneath the stairs.

  While I could view the images before me, my mind was incapable of coming up with any explanation as to how these men had come to rest—so suddenly and so nearly lifeless—in these positions.

  “Patrick,” he said, and I felt his head nod towards another familiar face that filled me with evil memories, who was crawling on his stomach towards us.

  “Gladly.” I heard the pale angel’s response, before he kicked the head of the man I somehow knew would haunt my nightmares. The body of the crawling man launched into the air and crashed into the table, breaking it in half. When we passed him, he didn’t move, but his dark eyes found mine, and filled me with his venom before I could roll my eyes away.

  I was carried with unimaginable speed up the endless stairs, and my mystified thoughts were quieted once the Councilmen’s lifeless bodies were no longer directly in my view. My mind was not strong enough to hold anything new in it for longer than my vision could keep it there.

  The pale angel kicked open the steel door and it keeled open without a protest. We sprang through the kitchen, flew through the dining room, and sprinted through the foyer. We blazed through the open front door, down the front steps and across the lawn to where the garage stood glowing like a beacon of hope.

  “We’re taking Bryn’s car,” the sprinting figure beside us yelled out as he kicked open another door—this one splintered from the force.

  “Her car’s back in Pacific City.” The voice that kept me alive, replied.

  “Not that car . . . this one.”

  I heard the shrieking sound of metal retracting, before I was slid inside a confined space, molding around the shape of his seated body beneath me.

  “I’ve been dying to get behind the wheel of this thing.”

  An engine exploded, and why the sound seemed to invoke something from within, I only cared about the sound of the breathing beside my ear.

  “I really feel like I need a cool pair of shades to drive this thing. Have you seen any lying around?” The voice in the seat next to us, jested in a familiar way. The arms holding me upright tightened around me.

  “Can you be serious for one moment in your two centuries of existence?”

  “I can try, but no promises.” A familiar revving sound exploded. “Besides, someone needs to keep things light around here with you two, intense individuals—”

  “Will you please shut up and drive, I’ve got to concentrate.” Determined words flowed like honey from the mouth beside my ear. “I’m going to be out of it for awhile. Do you think you can take care of things on your own?”

  The angel beside us grunted. “She’s fine. They didn’t get it all out of her.”

  “Do you really think I’m going to take a chance on that?”

  “No . . . not really. I’m just not looking forward to you waking up like an angry bear out of hibernation from the pain you’ll be in.”

  “I’ll be fine. You . . . drive.”

  “Alright, Brother.” An amused chuckle sounded beside us. “Save the girl . . . again.”

  His chuckle was joined by another, as the hands wrapped around me gripped deep into my flesh, and the most intimate, warm euphoria streamed into my body in electric currents. I drifted off into the somehow bright darkness to, “Stay with me.”