Authors: Nicole Williams
I love you,
William
With reluctance, I left the heavenly confines of the bed, grabbing the crane and note up as I walked into Patrick’s room to retrieve some clothes from my bag. I threw on the same pair of jeans I’d worn last night, and patted back into William’s room.
I felt a little snoopy opening one of his dresser drawers, but reassured myself with the excuse of needing to find something more appropriate to wear since I’d only packed a tank-top. While temperature didn’t affect me any longer, it would stand out to Mortal eyes if I wasn’t wearing something fitting for the cool coastal morning. If I was being honest with myself, it was more a matter of wanting to be surrounded by something of his, and knew his clothing would be permeated with my favorite smell in the world.
I found a grey sweatshirt on top of the meticulously folded stack, and pulled it out, letting it unfold before me. Eight very familiar letters were written in scarlet across the chest. I threw it on, so it would remind me to ask him about it when he returned. I was right—his scent wafted over me like a dreamy cloud.
I made my way out to the kitchen where the wonderful coffee smell was originating from, and sadly found that the pot was missing from the maker. I didn’t see any sign of Abigail or Cora, so I walked over to the slider to head out for an early morning stroll along the beach in hopes of catching a glimpse of the four brothers skimming the waves.
When I stepped onto the back patio, I found Cora and the missing coffee pot together. She was curled up in a blanket in one of the patio chairs, staring off into the distant ocean. A large cobalt colored cup was steaming in between her hands.
“Good morning, Bryn,” she welcomed, without looking back.
“Good morning yourself,” I answered, as she swirled her head to look at me.
Her golden-blonde hair was pulled into two braids she’d tucked behind her ears, making her look somehow even sweeter. Her smile was just as easy and genuine this morning as it had been last night.
My eyes drifted to the large pot of coffee sitting on the glass tabletop where an extra mug waited beside it. Odd as the combination was, the aroma of coffee mixed with the brackish morning air sailing off the ocean was tantalizing.
Cora noted my stare. “I know—it’s silly isn’t it? This is one Mortal habit I can’t seem to overcome.” She held up her almost empty cup of coffee. “Joseph keeps telling me caffeine cannot affect my body now, but I just ignore him,” she said, taking a long sip. “I
know
I need
this.”
I laughed with her. She was so comfortable to be around, and was the least intimidating and most human acting Immortal I’d met.
“Come on, pull up a seat.” She pulled aside one of the chairs beside her. “I brought you an extra cup so we can share in this ineffective indulgence—as Joseph likes to call it—together.”
We laughed in unison while I took a seat in the chair she’d pulled out for me. She poured the aromatic liquid into the extra mug.
“Here’s to absolutely
essential
indulgences,” she said, as we cheered our cups together.
“I’ll drink to that,” I responded, before taking a long drink. My fondness for Cora grew even more as soon as I tasted the wonderful elixir. It was positively the best cup of coffee I’d ever tasted . . . and I’d tasted a lot. I could easily make this a morning ritual, no matter the futility of the caffeine.
“Hey, we match,” she said, eyeing over the kipped sweatshirt I had on, and dropping her blanket to show me hers. “It’s Joseph’s.” That would explain why she looked like she was drowning in it.
“Joseph went to Stanford?” I asked.
She nodded her head. “He did. He’s followed in William’s footsteps just about every step of the way.” She smiled fondly before taking another drink from her cup.
My nose wrinkled. “William went to Stanford too?”
Her expression grew wary—probably due to the fact she was gun shy sharing unknown information with me regarding William, given my fainting spell last night. “Yeah, that’s where he went to med school . . . the first time around.” She smiled at me from the side.
“Med school . . . the
first
time?” My voice had perfected the awe sound as of late, since that’s what I was the majority of the time.
“William’s Station in our Alliance is as a Doctor. He’s gone to med school several times and received three specialties.”
I shook my head, letting my awe dissipate. “Well that explains a few things.” I said, thinking about his all too quick and able hands that night I’d split my head open. “But you’re Immortals, why do you need a doctor?”
“You’re not in Inheritor country anymore,” she said, tucking her knees to her chin and somehow balancing her cup on one knee. “His Station as a doctor is to keep with the Guardian mission of protecting Mortals.”
“Oh. Yeah,” I replied with chagrin. That should have been obvious.
“Of course, he can’t work out of a hospital—the fact he’s in a twenty-two year old body that never ages makes that impossible—but he and Joseph go where they can remain undetected for the most part: war zones, disaster areas, third world countries. They’re good men.” Cora said proudly.
The words
disaster area
reminded me of one of the first conversations I’d had with William weeks ago when we discovered we’d both been in Java providing medical care after the earthquake.
She laughed, disrupting my thoughts, and motioned with her head towards the raging ocean waves in front of us. “The guys picked a great day to go surfing—William’s got to be loving this. It looks like he’s been showing the other three up all morning.” Her eyes watched four figures far out in the water.
I’d not noticed them until now, but my new and improved vision allowed me to make out each one of their faces until they fell last on his. Cora was right; his face was alive with excitement. I smiled witnessing his happiness, and again admired the perfection of him surfing. A tremble ran through my body when several memories from last night flashed through my head.
“So . . . how did you sleep?” Her eyes looked at me from the side with a teasing glint of evil, as her lips pursed together to keep from smiling.
I reddened immediately, and muttered a quick reply, “Very well, thank you.”
The embarrassment was instant. I’d never stopped to recognize—that with five others in the small cottage with heightened senses—William and I would never have privacy from the illusion of a closed door. I could feel the redness streaming into my neck too, trying to recall every private word and intimate moment.
She giggled joyfully. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” she apologized, still laughing. “Joseph made me promise to tease you because he said he was really going to give William a hard time out there today.” She leaned in as if wanting to whisper something to me, but her volume remained unchanged. “Let’s just say you’re getting off much easier than he is.”
I smiled my thanks, not sure what to say next, but Cora bridged the gap for me.
“I know there are some in this family that disagree with me, but I want you to know how I feel on the matter, because you can be sure those who feel differently will make their opinions known.”
Her face turned a little more serious, but I couldn’t imagine Cora ever able to convey the finer workings of those less savory emotions. “I’ve been a part of this family for over a century—a long time—and I’ve never seen William so . . .”—her forehead crinkled—“peaceful,” she settled for finally. “He’s always been a good man, far beyond good actually, but there was a tangible sadness that surrounded him. Seeing him yesterday was like seeing the same man, but without the chains of darkness that held him down.”
She smiled when one of the far off surfers careened into the water. “You’ve given him the hope and love he’s always searched for, and you two should not let anything, or anyone, stop you from being together.” She turned her eyes to mine and the sapphire color was ablaze with conviction. “Your love shouldn’t be subject to some ruling of a Council.” She stopped and poured herself another cup of coffee.
I stared at her for a moment, wanting to ask her a question, but I didn’t want her to think I was being nosey. The warmth of her face helped me to decide.
“But what about you and Joseph, and Abigail and Nathanial? You were all Betrothed and then United by the Council and you all appear to be perfectly happy with the ones the Council selected for you.”
“We are,” she answered simply. I blew at the wisps of steam flowing over my cup, waiting for her to explain. “I’m not saying our code and the Council’s ways are bad—I’m saying that if you already love someone with such magnitude, you shouldn’t have to gain the approval and blessing of the Council to be together.”
I shot her a puzzled expression, so she continued, “From the day an Immortal is created, we are taught the codes of our kind, so it is cemented into our minds that we are not the ones to select our mates, but to carry out our callings with selflessness and restraint and when the time is right, the Council will grant a Betrothal.” Her eyes squinted from her concentration. “But with you and William, it’s different. He’s loved you since the first time he saw you in his dreams. He’s spent two hundred years loving you, and you fell in love with him when you were still Mortal, so of course that love translated when you were Immortalized.” She looked at me knowingly, as if waiting for a rebuff. I kept quiet though. I
had
fallen in love with William as a Mortal.
“The code should have no right to deny or punish such righteous love.” She sat her cup down and clapped her hands as she sat up. “So . . . that’s all I’ll say on the matter. I love William, and because he loves you, I love you as well now. His and your happiness are my concern, not the Council’s,” she finished, standing up.
She collected her mug and the empty coffee pot, and slid through the slider door. “I’ll talk to you later, Bryn. Patrick wants to have a word with you.” She shot me a sisterly smile, and disappeared into the cottage.
When I turned to look at the figures riding the thrashing waves, there were only three. My eyes fell upon the missing fourth who was jogging up the beach towards the cottage. I stood up as he approached.
“Hey-a, Bryn,” he shouted, beaming. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
I looked up at the nearly black, rain-filled clouds above, and then to the form of the dark-haired older brother that sailed over the storm-induced waves. “Yes, it is,” I replied wholeheartedly.
“Can I steal you away for awhile?” he asked, as he stuck the end of his surfboard into the sand beside the patio. “As soon as he gets back,”—he motioned to the surfing figures on the horizon—“I’ll have lost my chance.”
“Sure, of course.” I was feeling especially generous today. Must have something to do with last night.
“Super. Let me get changed real quick and I’ll be right back.” His black wetsuit was dripping wet.
“Good idea,” I agreed quickly.
When he walked past me, he shook his head violently and his long blonde hair released a ring of wet spray, his target obviously me.
“Don’t press you luck, mister,” I warned, wiping away the droplets of ocean water on my face with the sleeve of William’s sweatshirt. “I may be in an extra good mood this morning, but it seems to run out quickly with you and your antics.” I smiled my warning at him.
“Yeah, I
bet
you’re in a good mood this morning. You know, we all took bets last night as to what color eyes you two would wake up with today,” he said, as he scrambled through the open door before I could find something to throw at him. “I lost fifty bucks!”
Since there were no clay pots lying around, I settled for sliding one of my sandals off and chucking it through the door where he’d almost rounded the corner out of view. Almost.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed, as I choked on the laugh I tried to stifle. “It’s a good thing you and William can’t procreate. With his speed and your accuracy, your kids would be deadly throwing machines,” he yelled back at me.
I turned my eyes back to the thundering ocean waves at the three remaining surfers; although, I really only noticed one. I took my seat and continued my lustful affair with the steaming cup of coffee while I waited for Patrick.
“Your weapon of choice, milady.” I startled as Patrick threw my sandal into my lap.
He’d changed in less than a minute, and while the rolled up khakis and cable-knit sweater had replaced his dripping wetsuit, his long hair was still drenched and had formed a wet ring around his sweater.
“Do you mind if we talk and walk?” he asked, motioning to the endless beach in front of us.
“Absolutely not.” I stood up and removed my remaining sandal and followed him onto the sandy loam.
Patrick was silent as we ambled down the empty beach. The cottage had long been out of sight, and Patrick still hadn’t uttered a single word. Wasn’t he the one that said he wanted to talk?
My silent patience ran out. “Just spit it out, Patrick. Really, I can take it.” My thoughts were on what Cora had said about other family members not agreeing with her, and even as annoying as Patrick was, I genuinely hoped he wasn’t one of them.
He stared back at a couple of stray logs lying at the bottom of a tall dune, and motioned to them. “Do you mind if we take a seat?”