Authors: Nicole Williams
CHAPTER NINE
IMMORTAL WONDER
There hadn’t been a single towel, bathrobe, or cover-up to be found in that elaborately stocked room. I’d almost swiped the downy, white comforter off the bed, but didn’t want to look ridiculous. I felt naked walking through the cabin, probably due to the fact I nearly was. The black two-piece (more made of strings than actual material) had been the only option for our midnight swim. I’d considered swimming in the clothes I was wearing, except I had on a white linen top, and that wouldn’t have been any less revealing once it got wet.
I patted barefoot down the carpeted hall, praying he’d already be in the water (hopefully under the water) when I made my show on the deck before I launched into the black water.
Of course he wasn’t.
I saw him the moment I stepped through the cabin door, but my discomfort in the near nothingness I was constricted by, was forgotten as quickly as the breath was pulled from my lungs. True in holding to his godlike characteristics, William leaning against the railing, arms crossed, in nothing but his shorts, would have sent me into cardiac arrest had I still been . . . gulp . . . Mortal.
The moonlight playing over the lines and seams that cut deep canyons into every inch of his body made me woozy. I stopped in the doorway, grabbing the frame for support. I was amazingly stronger now, but I knew no matter how strong I ever became, there was nothing that could keep my knees from buckling beneath the glowing brilliance in front of me.
When his eyes moved from their star-ward gaze to me, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell open slightly. He threw his head to the side, as if trying to distract himself with something in the distance, but thinking better of it, his head and eyes turned back to me. “I can’t even pretend to not be distracted by the sight of you.” His eyes burned with the same awe written on his face. “I don’t want to either.”
I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about; there was nothing but lanky limbs and barely a hint of a tan gracing my skin after the long winter months, wrapped up in couple of garments that would have been rated R if the motion picture association rated swimsuits as well.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about . . . but I have you say you’re looking mighty impressive yourself.” I smiled, pleading with my eyes to keep them from roaming too long or far.
He looked at me as if I’d just said something ludicrous, before a smile spread over his mouth. “Am I going to have to hold you down until you’re convinced of how beautiful you are?” There was a lightness of teasing in his suggestion, but I wouldn’t have minded one bit if he was serious about this kind of coercion.
I felt the heat from the flush that covered my cheeks when I let my mind wander. Eager to keep him from noticing the scarlet in my face, I challenged, “You’d have to catch me first.” I threw my eyebrows a couple of times, before breaking into a run across the deck, ready to cannonball my way into the still water, taking care of two problems with the same action—camouflaging and cooling my overheated body.
The deck was no longer than a tennis court, but the speed I was able to attain in such a short expanse was unreal. I could feel the wind cutting across my face. I launched off the deck when it ran out, pulling my gangly arms around my even ganglier legs, and tucked into a ball. An instant before I crashed into the water, an electric current sparked through me with force, right before I felt his body wrap around mine mid-air.
We crashed into the sleeping lake, displacing more water than two people should. I opened my eyes once we submerged, and he disentangled his body from mine and swam into view. He grabbed my face and kissed me in a way that would have taken my breath away had I not been holding it, before grabbing my hand and pulling me to the surface. We broke through the surface at the same time, neither of us gasping for the air our lungs should have needed given the length of our submersion.
He smiled as he pulled me to him. “You were saying?”
“I don’t know why I continue to be surprised by you.” I said, shaking my head.
“So, now that I’ve caught you . . .”—he pulled me against him, causing my legs to encircle around him—“are you going to let me hold you down and convince you how lovely you truly are?”
My heart was obnoxiously loud, thumping like a set of drums, disrupting the quiet sanctuary we were in, but then I realized there was another beat matching mine.
He released me from the close hold I preferred, to one which was more conventional. “Are you ready to see a few freaky things you can do now that you’re an Immortal?”
“Why not?” I didn’t need any more proof than his word, but I was happy to be with him, doing whatever.
“How does the water feel?” he asked innocently.
“Great,” I answered, then paused, remembering what month it was and our northerly location from the equator . . . and the near nothingness I was wearing.
“To me as well, although the water is a frigid fifty-five degrees.” I looked at him with reasonable surprise; the water felt like bath water to me.
“As Immortals, we aren’t affected by temperature or environmental changes. That’s why you can be perfectly at ease swimming in freezing water in the middle of the night, adorned in a swimsuit only the most seasoned of temptresses would have selected.” He eyed me with amused accusation. I would have argued back that the selections were limited, but didn’t want to waste a second of time arguing with him.
“Another thing . . .” He winked, as if taunting me, before diving down into the water like a torpedo.
I waited, my concern growing with each breath I took that I knew he wasn’t, scanning the surface for his head breaking through. After a minute, I dove under, my nervousness cutting me through the water.
I wasn’t focused on the speed and grace my water tore through the water with though—I had a sole mission. I scanned for the body that would be impossible to miss, even in the darkness of the water.
I found him sitting cross legged at the bottom of the lake, my eyesight impossibly acute given the depth—another showing for the Immortal theory. He looked calm as I swam towards him, but I was desperate to get him to the surface; he’d been under too long.
When I approached, he put his arms around me and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head on my shoulder. His eyes didn’t leave mine until the anxiety in mine melted.
It seemed impossible. It went against everything I’d ever known, but here we sat, at the bottom of a nearly freezing lake, not needing a single breath of air to recover ourselves. I got lost in the moment, the water holding us in its protective arms, while he held me tighter in his.
His grip tightened around my waist, I felt him push against the lake floor, and then we were rocketing through the water. We broke through the surface like a volcanic eruption, and crashed back into the water like a meteor breaking through it.
“That was amazing,” I said breathlessly, although for a reason other than being under water for longer than it takes me to run a mile. Well, at least to run a mile as a Mortal.
“Are you convinced?” he murmured from behind.
“I already was . . . but now I know all the cool things I can do.”
“Believe me,” he assured through his laughter. “There are many other
cool
things you can do, but we’ve got time.”
I smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
His smile outshone mine, in fact, it outshone the glowing full-moon hanging like a bright ball behind his head. “Me, too. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.”
His admission jogged the next question to mind. “How old are you . . . really?” I blurted out, treading the water with no sign of weakening. I felt like I could stay out here with him for the rest of our lives, although there was a new meaning to that now.
He chuckled nervously. “Well, Immortals don’t keep track of their age or birthdays like Mortals do. Kind of superfluous when you live forever . . .” His eyes squinted, as if unsure of what my reaction would be. I knew, however, there would be nothing he could reveal about himself that could ever diminish the way I worshipped him. “I was twenty-two when I was Immortalized, and the year was 1780.”
My eyes widened. “That makes you . . .” While mathematics had been a strong suit of mine, the subject at hand, and the perfect person the matter surrounded, had me struggling to count my fingers.
“Two hundred and sixty years old.” He half smiled. “
If
you were counting.”
“Wow,” I whispered again, for the hundredth time that night. It appeared my vocabulary was rendered useless around him as well.
“I know. By Mortal standards my bones should be dust, but here I am, forever stuck in the youth of a twenty-two year old body— with all the strength, power and knowledge of an Immortal.” He sighed, sounding his true age.
“What happened to you?” This was the wrong question for me to ask, and I regretted it when I witnessed the darkness that fell over his face.
“How about we save that for another time?” He asked, his eyes not quite meeting mine.
“Of course—I’m sorry.” I swam closer to him, desperate to pull the poison from his pain filled face.
“We’re an hour away from dawn,” he said, his voice recovered. “We should get back before anyone discovers we’re still gone.”
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.