Eternal Eden (32 page)

There were four others grouped around a large dining table, and they were surveying me with as much interest and curiosity as I was them. The two females were seated next to one another, one of the males stood behind them, and the other male towered in front of the table, with arms crossed and a wary look covering his face.

I managed as warm a smile possible given the discomfort I felt from the giant of a man looming in front of me, as if positioning himself between me and the three strangers behind him.

“At ease, soldier,” Patrick chuckled, addressing the tower of a man before us. “She’s just a newbie and quite harmless.” Patrick reciprocated the light punch I’d given him. “She doesn’t even have any crazy cool gifts we’ve identified yet.” He looked at me factitiously. “Isn’t that right . . .
Sister
?”

I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes at him, not wanting to immediately offend his family. Patrick’s reassurances didn’t relax his brother in the slightest.

William stepped in, making the introductions. “Bryn, this is my older brother Nathanial.” He nodded at the mass of a man, still staring at me as if I was an unwelcome intruder into their happy family. He reminded me of the Incredible Hulk, at least in terms of his size and scowl—he wasn’t green, thankfully.

Nathanial didn’t nod, blink, or say anything in response. He just kept his eyes fixed on me, until one of the women got up from her chair, came around the table, and laid her hand on his arm. His eyes didn’t move from me initially, but then she whispered something in his ear and he slowly began to relax, moving his eyes to her and unfolding his arms.

William continued, “This is Abigail, Nathanial’s wife.”

Abigail looked at me as she forced a smile. “How do you do?” she said conventionally, but it was obvious she’d only mustered up this politeness out of courtesy to William. She was of average size, and had black hair that hung like a velvet curtain down to her waist. She reminded me of what one would consider timeless beauty, and next to Nathanial’s roughness, they created a picture of opposite extremes. Abigail’s eyes moved from me as quickly as she’d laid them there, and went back to her seat beside the other female.

I pressed closer into William as my discomfort grew. His arm tightened around me. This wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped.

William introduced the next male. “This is Joseph, the youngest of the brothers.” Joseph met me with an easy smile, full of acceptance and happiness. He lit up the room with it. When I looked at him fully, I gasped. He was a near clone to William.

Patrick chuckled. “Look familiar?”

I ignored him, and continued to revel over the likeness. Despite the baseball cap, it didn’t hide the nearly black hair that held a promise of wave in the way the long tufts curled at the ends. He had the same lips that were full and precisely drawn, and the same chiseled facial features—although Joseph’s were a little softer around the edges, not quite as defined as someone more senior—and while the eye shape was the same, full and deep-set, Joseph’s were dark-sapphire blue. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen when he’d been Immortalized, I guessed.

“And this is Cora, Joseph’s wife.” William motioned to the final woman sitting at the table, explaining where that shade of sapphire blue came from.

Cora was small framed, and had shoulder-length, golden-blond hair. Like Joseph, she met me with a brilliant smile, and her sapphire-colored eyes sparkled with vigor. Cora bounced up, and upon standing, I realized how much more petite she was than she’d looked sitting down. She placed a quick kiss on the side of Joseph’s cheek and danced over to where William and I stood.

“I’m so happy to see you, William.” She beamed at him, like an adoring sister would at her older brother. She gave him a hug that held nothing back, and then turned to me, wrapping her tiny arms around me with just as much completeness. “I’m so glad he found you,” she whispered before releasing me.

I looked at her puzzled—there’d been something hidden in her words I didn’t understand.

She noted my confusion, and distracted herself by reaching for the bags in William’s hand. “Let me take those. We’ll put Bryn in Patrick’s bedroom tonight.” She grinned at Patrick. “You’ll have to make due with the sofa tonight, I’m afraid,” she said, prancing off to a couple of closed doors behind us.

Patrick whined beside us, where he was sitting up on the counter riling through the kitchen cabinets, muttering to himself again, “Some kind of homecoming this is.”

William walked forward with me in tow. “Good to see you again, Nathanial. It’s been too long.”

“You say that every time,” Nathanial replied, smiling crookedly at William. With the softer expression, I was struck by how much Nathanial looked like Patrick—although much larger and scarier. Nathanial patted the side of William’s arm. “We were worried about you. It’s nice to see you again.”

William glanced over at Abigail. “Nice to see you too, Abigail. How have you been?”

I was hoping that perhaps Nathanial and Abigail’s welcome for me had been indicative of subdued personalities, but when I saw the warm smile grace Abigail’s lips at William’s greeting, I knew the cool welcome had
everything
to do with me. “Quite well, thank you. We’ve missed you.” Her deep blue eyes matched those of her husband’s, and I felt awkward realizing the pale blue that lingered in mine—a sign to all of my innocence.

“So this is her, huh?” Nathanial asked William, but stared pointedly at me.

“Yes,” William answered, his tone full of love and pride. “This is my Bryn. The one I’ve told you all about for so long.” His eyes looked into mine. They were full of something so wonderful it became difficult to keep my composure.

Nathanial nodded, as if understanding exactly what William had said.

“Wait!” Patrick roared behind us, jumping down from the counter and marching over to where we stood. “This is
her
?!” He glared with accusing eyes at William, inches away from his face.

William met his younger brother’s surprised expression with a flabbergasted one of his own. “Yes, of course this is her. Who did you think she was?”

I felt like I’d been left out of some important telling of a joke. I was present for the punch line, but none of it made sense without the prelude of the joke. What did Patrick and Nathanial mean . . . was I
her
?

Patrick was still gaping open-mouthed beside us, his head flying back and forth between William and me. He was making me dizzy.

Not looking like his bewilderment would abate anytime soon, William spoke up. “Nathanial, Patrick, Joseph?” They all turned their heads to him. “Could we excuse ourselves for awhile? I’d like to have your thoughts on some important matters.”

I shot him a worried look. While I figured I could make due with Cora, I was terrified to be left behind with Abigail, and her disapproval that was wrapped up in the shell of her courteous attitude.

William turned to me and ran his thumb down my cheek. “Only for a short while. I’ll be back soon.” His soft touch soothed me, giving me the kind of courage that could get me through a week alone with Abigail locked in a coat closet. “I need to speak with my brothers about a few things. Will you be alright here for awhile?”

An angelic response came from behind us as Cora flitted back into the kitchen, “Of course, she will be. I’ve got oodles of questions for you, Bryn!”

She commenced grabbing each of the brothers and pushing them towards the glass slider door which led out to the sandy shore. “Get out, go on.” She grabbed William by the cuff of his shirt and began dragging him away. He placed a hurried kiss on my lips before he was pushed through the door. Cora grabbed Joseph last, and was kind enough to give him a sweet kiss before she scooted him out the door with a smack on his backside.

When the last brother had been thrown out onto the sand and the slider door was fastened securely behind them, Cora flew over to me and grabbed one of my comparatively large hands in her tiny one. “I’m so happy to meet you. The
real
you!” Her eyes were dancing with excitement. “William’s talked about you non-stop for eons and I was almost beginning to believe like the rest of them—that you were just a figment of his imagination . . . a happy place his mind had created as a safe haven from the deaths—”

“Cora!” Abigail scolded, her eyes ablaze.

Cora shot her a confused glance, which then turned indignant. “Settle down, Abigail. She has a right to know.” She pointed outside towards the forms of the brothers that were growing smaller as they walked down the beach. “If he’s too big a lug-head to admit to her how important she’s been in his life, that’s not my fault.”

Abigail sneered at her. “That is
his
business. You should know better than to interfere—William knows what’s best for him and this family.”

Again, I was reeling, trying to keep up with the conversation I felt disjointed from. I reached for Cora’s shoulders and grasped them tightly. “Slow down, please. I’m lost,” I pleaded. “Can you explain?”

Her eyes sparkled brighter. “Of course, I will. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll grab us something to drink.”

Happy I’d be enlightened soon, I released her shoulders and selected a chair.

“Abigail, would you like some iced tea?” Cora sung from the kitchen. She didn’t wait for Abigail’s answer before she danced back to the table seconds later, carrying three tumblers of tea. She sat one in front of me and handed another to Abigail, and sat down in the chair beside me.

She took a sip of her tea and tilted her chair towards me, lifting one leg up to curl it to her chin. “So what do you want to know?”

“Ummmm . . . how about you start at the beginning?” I said, not knowing where the beginning was.

She took another sip before beginning. “Has William told you about his gift?”

I wasn’t sure which one of the many she was referring to, but took a guess. “Do you mean his ability to Foretell Mortal’s deaths?”

She bobbed her head and continued, “When William was first Immortalized, he was horrified by his Foretellings. To him, they were just dark, evil visions that never left his mind. He couldn’t escape them, and was too young to be able to divert himself from them. Joseph’s told me about how miserable and lost William was the first few decades of his Immortality . . . how he became a slave to his Foretellings.”

I ran my fingers down the sides of my glass, which had started to sweat small beads of condensation. The cool beads of water sliding underneath my fingers helped center me from the torment I imagined William suffering early on in his Immortality.

“Several decades after his Immortalization, William had a dream of a young woman, and to his great surprise, it was not a Foretelling of her death. For the first time, he’d dreamed an everyday sort of dream of this woman, and that was it for him. The small ray of light he needed to get him through the darkness had arrived, and he clung to it. His life was lived from one dream of her to the next—the dark visions taking place in between, the price he had to pay to see her again.”

I noticed Abigail shift stiffly in her chair, making her disapproval known with pursed lips and crossed arms. Her iced tea sat untouched beside one of those shiny black cell phones that doubled as a handheld computer.

“William became strong, able to make judgment calls and decisions for the greater good of the Guardian believers and his family—unhindered by the bonds Nathanial and Joseph had formed with us,” she said, motioning to Abigail and herself. “Sure, Patrick’s never been United, but he’s too flighty . . . too indecisive. William became the natural leader of our family and the Guardians. His strength, intelligence and devotion to our mission made him the obvious choice. The quiet rumors started to go around that he was the one—”

Abigail’s assailing disapproval for whatever direction Cora’s story was taking, was materialized through the hissing that came through her teeth. She sounded fierce, and I was not the only one that saw her that way. Cora’s story took an instant about-face.

“About fifty years ago, William grew more distant from the family, spending more time away . . . for months on end at times. He excused the time away due to the missions he was sent on, but we all knew there was something else going on.”

The timer went off on the stove and Cora bounced up to remove the rectangular, bread pans from the oven. She removed them with her bare hands, not even flinching at the 350 degree heat burning hot on the metal pans. She continued, while removing the rounded loaves from their tins onto cooling racks, “One day, the boy’s father followed him on one of his commissioned missions—”

“Whoa . . . did you say his father?” I said with bewilderment. This family was getting larger by the minute. “As in, his
biological
father?”

Cora glanced over at me and a smile of apology crossed her face. “I thought William would have told you about his father . . .”

Abigail huffed in her seat, but Cora continued, ignoring her, “Yes, his biological father. Charles is the Chancellor of our Alliance of Guardians.”

My eyes widened somehow even more—not only was William’s family pretty much perfect, the head of it just so happened to be one of the most powerful Immortals in existence. Great, nothing like feeling like I was in love with the son of a priest-slash-king-slash-ruler of the galaxy . . .