Authors: Nicole Williams
“He decided a little game of Russian Roulette was on that night’s agenda of family entertainment. He sat my mother and I around the kitchen table as he went around the circle, giving everyone a turn with the barrel of his revolver drilled into their temple.”
I tried to force my attention on the buildings we were circling around so I would have an excuse to not look into the eyes that were as calm as if he was discussing the weather.
“Mother got the first bullet. The last sound she heard was my father’s pleased chuckle as he loaded another bullet into the emptied gun. After two more rounds with just the two of us, he got the last bullet, and I was left sitting in between two parents with gaping holes in their heads.”
I realized I’d been holding my breath—I wasn’t sure for how long.
“I guess you could say something like that kind-of
affects
an adolescent . . . I had a few run-ins with the law and did my time, but ultimately decided life wasn’t for me. It turns out it was
Mortal
living that wasn’t my thing.” He grinned. “Immortality has been rather good to me.”
John came to a stop beside the courtyard and leaned over me to survey the quiet campus. “This is the campus where the new Immortals stay during their training. Some of the professors, as well as the Immortals with low-ranking Stations, stay here as well. Of course, you know where the academic part of the training is held, but we do the strength and talent training out here on the campus.”
The campus could have easily been mistaken for some small, fancy, private school, but I doubted the areas of studies matched other school’s curriculums.
I wanted to ask why I was staying at the Manor and not here in the dormitory style lodging, but I didn’t really want to know the answer. Something in the way William acted around me when John was near, had led me to several conclusions I didn’t want to have confirmed from John in the close confines of the car.
“Would you like to walk around the campus and see the rest?”
I thought before answering, reasonably certain I wouldn’t sound too rude if I declined. “No, thank you though. I’m exhausted from the long day in class.”
“Ah, yes. Professor Winters can be quite consuming can’t he?”
He had
no
idea.
“I’ll get you back then. You can take a closer look at the campus another time. I wouldn’t want you falling asleep on our poor professor’s lesson tomorrow.” He chuckled.
Like that would ever happen.
John flipped the car around and hit our cruising speed half a breath later. “You said the Immortals that created you saw a certain
potential
in you . . .”
John looked smug. “They did. Every Mortal carries within them a latent power—or a gift, if you will—that can only be brought to the surface by passing into Immortality. Some gifts are more
formidable
than others.” A smug smile appeared to match his expression. “They saw a formidable gift within me.”
“They
saw
?” I pushed, eager to understand more of the never-ending mysteries.
John exhaled his exasperation. “It takes a team of Immortals to create another—a Foreteller to see the imposing death, a Finder to locate the Mortal, a Reader to ascertain the latent gift—all of these incredibly rare gifts—and finally, a team to generate enough energy to change the Mortal.” He glided through the explanation, not allowing my questions to be voiced. “I am a Finder, able to locate any Mortal anywhere in the world. That’s why Draco and his team of Inheritors changed me that night when I should have died. They saw the potential within.”
We were nearing the Manor, and I should have let the final minute or two before we came to a stop at the front door, go by in silence. I couldn’t, of course. “You’ve always been an Inheritor?” I asked carefully, not sure how kosher my question was.
He snorted. “I always have been, and I
always
will be. Those weak, complacent Guardians have never taken their calling seriously. The rotting corpses of my parents are evidence enough, as was my Mortal life I was ending when it wasn’t Guardians that arrived to help or change me. It was Inheritors,” John’s voice spewed with his disgust. “No, they’ve never been able to do their job of protecting humanity, and have only failed worse as the centuries have gone by. I’d rather die—and you know how much more significant dying is to our kind when we have forever on the table—than surround myself with a bunch of feeble Guardians.”
John came to a screaming halt in the driveway, and I was all too eager to be free of the confines of the car. Despite it having been the wallpaper on my laptop for several years, there was nothing worth remaining in it with the overpowering man at the wheel who gave me so much more than just chills.
When he turned to me, his face was changed and was no longer locked behind the chains of anger. A familiar look, one that had made me squirm before, was staring back at me now. “Do you like the car?”
I nodded my head, reaching for the handle at the same time.
“That’s good . . . since it’s yours,” he announced, opening his door and sliding out of the seat.
I didn’t move, due to the fact my body had flash frozen. Not because John had just told me my dream car—a million dollar race car, was mine. No, the freeze had to do with the intentions behind this over-the-top gift.
John peeked his head back down to look at me. “Is that a thank you?”
“But . . .” My throat grabbed around the word, making it break.
“No buts, it’s yours. Think of it as a welcome gift,” he said, sounding dismissive.
I wondered how many of his other young Immortals received gifts like this on their second day of lucidity. While I didn’t see any reason why John would single me out from the others, I’m sure Annabelle would have mentioned if she was sporting around one of fifty, velocity defying vehicles ever made—she’d talked about everything else. Including every perfect, dreamy detail of our professor . . .
“Besides, I prefer the back seat of a Rolls and a dedicated driver to the speed and rawness of one of these.”
For the first time, I questioned John’s sanity. My mouth would have dropped if it wasn’t locked in place from the freeze.
“It’s yours,” he repeated. “I’ll have George park it in the garage tonight, and let him know who the owner is, so you can take it out whenever your car enthusiast heart so desires.” His smile was a mixture of amusement and conceit.
I found the muscle recall in my body, and shoved the door open. I swept out of the car that held too many mysteries and motives for me for one Mortal lifetime. The object that had invoked such an awed response earlier, nearly made me nauseous as I walked around the front and past the glaring headlights—that even in their quiet form, looked fast.
“Thank you,” I answered, before my vocal chords constricted.
“A flashy car for a flashy girl,” his bass voice crooned, as I past by him with the false smile I’d plastered on my face.
There was something wrong here . . . something not fitting, and while I wouldn’t allow myself to let my intuitions run wild, I couldn’t fully stifle them either. One part of me was reassured with the knowledge John could have any woman in the entire world; he’d surely never want me with his preference for all things that were showy and flawless.
Yet another part wouldn’t let me escape the reminders of the dreadful looks he gave me, the curious favors, and now, the million dollar car. Yes, something was wrong here, but I wasn’t sure what. But then again, something very right was here too, and I ran through the door, past the disturbing man, and up the stairs to where that right thing resided three doors down from me.
CHAPTER TWELVE
INDULGANCES
“You will all learn a great deal more about Immortal gifts, including how to develop your own, in your second phase of training.” Our professor began on our second day of class.
In true gentleman fashion, he was waiting outside my door again this morning when I emerged early for my new favorite subject. I’d decided not to tell him about the generous gift John had bestowed upon me last night, and I hated that I had to keep something from him—it felt deceitful. But I couldn’t tell him the man he already had an aversion to me being around, had given me a seven figure vehicle as if it’d been nothing at all. I couldn’t risk William’s reaction, and whatever would happen to him as a result.
“Our purpose today is to merely scrape the surface of this most mystical of Immortal makings, and answer any general questions you may have.” William turned from the chalkboard, where he’d just scribbled today’s extensive agenda in the same amount of time it took Annabelle to write the date on her notebook.
“Have any of you had any presentations of your gifts yet?”
Chris smiled, and it caught my attention since this was an unusual facial expression for him, but I was suddenly distracted by William’s hand moving like a flash of lightning to grab something that soared at him from behind. He caught the white, cylinder-shaped item before it collided into his head.
“Thank you, Chris,” William announced in a level voice, before turning back to the board with the piece of chalk in hand, and writing down
Mover
.
I looked over at the gloating Chris and glared at him. He exchanged my glare with a wicked smile.
“As we’ve all just witnessed, Chris is a Mover.” William dropped the chalk back down where it had been resting prior to the show-off sitting next to me willing it to fly at his head. William didn’t appear concerned, but I kept my eyes on the piece of chalk, making sure it stayed in its current resting place.
“Cool,” Annabelle said, sounding awed.
“What’s your
cool
gift Annabelle,” Chris jeered. “We all know Bryn’s a no show in this department so far.”
I had a very sudden urge to take my index and middle fingers and jab them into Chris’ smug eyes, but found enough willpower to resist.
“Well Master Patrick says he has a theory on that,” she responded, beaming. “He says my gift is being exceptionally beautiful.”
“Ah, Master Patrick . . .” William said, as if in explanation, as he shook his head. A smile of mild disapproval graced his mouth.
“Actually Chris, it can take several weeks for a new Immortal’s gift to present itself, and even when it does, it is quite weak and underdeveloped. So Bryn and Annabelle,”—he looked between the two of his mesmerized female students—“there’s no need to worry that either of you are some kind of Immortal mutant. Just give it some time.”
My smile back at him was timid, Annabelle’s was the opposite.
“Of course our gifts are not meant to use casually, or for our enjoyment.” William shot Chris a look of accusation. “They’re to be used to further our cause, and subject to the Council’s ruling.”
My face did the confusion thing, but my eyes stayed focused on the motionless chalk. William answered my internal considerations. “No one says we can’t have a little fun with our arsenal of capabilities and talents.” His eyes followed mine to the chalk, demonstrating what he was explaining. “However, if Chris were to be so inclined to move a house and hurl it into the Golden Gate Bridge, the Council would not look so fondly upon his action should he have done this without their commission.”
Annabelle’s eyes popped. “He could do that?”
William nodded his head. “With the proper training and development—possibly. Although it all depends on the magnitude of the latent gift we were born with. Development and training cannot compensate for a meager gift.”
Chris sat taller in his seat, no longer looking like an uninterested slouch. Annabelle viewed him with appraising eyes, and I had to admit, I felt a little jealous.
“What would happen if he did that?” I asked.
William glanced to the side, looking as if he were gathering his thoughts, before answering, “It depends upon the magnitude of the offense. Immortal codes are strict and meant to be followed. There is very little leniency for ignoring these codes. This is why Immortals are such good
citizens—
mercy is in short supply when an Immortal breaks the rules.”
“But we’re Immortals, what kind of punishment could really be persuadable?” I pressed, not understanding. I knew William had put his own Immortality in jeopardy that night I’d entered his world, but that had been his choice. Not the punishment of a Council.
“Gosh you’re slow. Do you really think everyone would be so civilized and well behaved if they could do whatever the hell they wanted without worrying about putting their necks on the chopping block?” Chris snarled at me under his breathe.
And though I wasn’t a Mover (at least not that I knew of), I could still pick up the open book sitting before me, and smack him on the head with the strength of my own hands. Despite my formidable desire to do so, I didn’t. My patience seemed to have increased when I learned I’d be around forever.
“In similar fashion to creating an Immortal, an Immortal can be killed in much the same way.” William’s words were slow, deliberate. “The same energy that is surged into your body to create Immortality, can also be drawn from it as well. Again, a team is needed for this—a team with the same seniority of discipline and focus to draw the radiant energy out.”