by I. T. Lucas
Once the Guardians had left, Kian got up and walked over to the bar, pouring himself a drink before sitting down with Shai to go over the files on his desk. “What's the progress with the resettling?” he asked.
“It's going pretty well, considering the haste. We have all of the Bay Area folks already settled. I hired several services to pack their homes and ship everything to various self-storage facilities around town. The locals are coming in at a slower pace. I estimate at least a month before we are able to drag them all here.” Shai smiled apologetically—his initial estimate had been to have everyone settled in less than two weeks.
“The locals are less urgent; it's more of a long term plan. I'm more concerned with the adverse impact of us pulling our programmers out from their respective software firms. We need to figure out a way to enable them to continue their work from here. I need to have a meeting with the programmers and William to work out the logistics.”
“I'll schedule it for tomorrow.” Shai began fidgeting and rearranging the files, clearly stalling as he gathered his nerve before bringing up the next subject. “As all the council members are already in residence, I thought it might be a good idea to invite them to a nice big dinner. It will be good for morale, a show of unity. I'll take care of all the details. You wouldn't have to do anything other than showing up…” Shai was well aware of how much Kian hated entertaining.
“Good idea. When do you have in mind?”
Surprised, Shai looked up. “Tonight… if it's okay with you. It would be best if it looks like something spontaneous that you've just thought of—give the impression that you're actually glad to have them here. I'll have Okidu and Onidu on it. We can use this room, or we can use your dining room; it's up to you.” Shai's hopeful expression clearly indicated his preference.
“Having it at my place will be better received. Inform the council members. I also want Syssi and Michael to attend. Let's schedule it for eight. We need to give Okidu enough time to prepare.”
Kian heaved a sigh. He was going to hate it. And yet, as regent, this was something that was expected of him, regardless of his lack of skill or enthusiasm for this particular part of the job. And what's more, at a time like this, his family needed to come together.
Pulling out his phone, he texted Syssi and then Amanda, informing them about the dinner.
“Okay, what else do we have?” He glanced at the pile of files Shai had stacked on his desk.
Damn, this was going to take a while.
CHAPTER 12: SYSSI
Peeking into the dining room, Syssi exhaled in relief. No one was there yet.
Talk about stressful.
As if the prospect of dinner with Kian's posse of Guardians and members of his council wasn't bad enough, he texted her saying he and Amanda were going to be a few minutes late and to go ahead without him.
Great.
It was like inviting your boyfriend's parents to dinner… only worse… because he wouldn't be there with you to greet them.
Imagining the looks and the questions and the judgments passed, Syssi cringed. If she could've thought of any way to wiggle out of it, she would've. Unfortunately, there was a doctor in the house to disprove any pretend maladies she could've come up with. And though the idea of hiding somewhere until Kian showed up crossed her mind, she dismissed it. That would mark her as a coward. Not going to happen. Even though in truth, she was one.
Oh, well, she'd survive.
Shoving her insecurities aside, she turned her focus to the beautifully set table. There was only one way to describe it. Wow.
Okidu had outdone himself preparing for this dinner. Though if that was supposed to be casual, she wondered what possibly more could've been done for a formal affair.
Maybe the butler just didn't get the memo… or got it and ignored it…
He certainly went all out.
Set with fine china, crystal goblets, and what seemed to be real silver silverware, the table looked like something from a period movie. It held the kind of old-world splendor that implied evening gowns and tuxedos. Not jeans.
Everything gleamed, the sparkle bouncing between the expensive-looking stuff on the table and the crystal chandelier above it. Even the artfully folded, pristine white napkins seemed to shine. And the silver goblets, with their tiny though elaborate flower arrangements, must have been delivered fresh from some exclusive florist. No way Okidu could've made those as well.
With a quick look behind her, Syssi pulled out her phone from her back pocket and snapped a picture. The table was so beautiful, she just had to preserve the image.
“Good evening,” Onidu startled her as she returned the phone to her pocket.
“Hi, I was just admiring the magnificent table. Was it you or Okidu who had set it up so beautifully?”
“It was a joint effort, Madam. And I thank you kindly for your praise. Please, let me show you to your seat.” He bowed at the waist and proceeded to pull out a chair for her. The one to the right of Kian's place of honor at the head of the table.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him.
As Syssi sat down, the tablecloth's heavy, luxurious fabric brushed against her plain blue jeans, as if to point out that she was underdressed for the occasion. Not that she had much choice in the matter. Besides jeans, her only other option were the black yoga pants she had been wearing when Kian had whisked her to safety. Luckily, she'd at least put on a nice blouse and exchanged her flip-flops for heels.
Good thing she hadn't listened to Amanda's reassurances that it was a casual affair and she didn't need to change.
Yeah, right, casual. Maybe for the queen of England it was!
But then, as the guests began trickling in, dressed just as plainly, she might have relaxed if not for the way they looked at her—as if she was a strange exhibit.
Fidgeting with her napkin, she returned their nods and hellos with a strained, fake smile plastered on her face—all the while secretly plotting revenge on Kian for abandoning her like that.
Except, was it possibly all in her head?
Between the Guardians' friendly, familiar smiles and easy banter, and William's whining about not being seated next to her, she loosened up a bit.
Yeah, it must've been.
And yet, casting a sidelong glance at Michael, she envied the ease with which he seemed to fit in. Calm and confident, his handsome young face smiling, he was chatting with Yamanu and the other Guardians as though they were his lifelong friends.
He seemed happy, excited.
But maybe his good mood had less to do with the camaraderie he felt with his new friends and more with Kri's palm resting possessively on his thigh—publicly staking her claim on him.
Smiling, Syssi looked away from the young couple… Well, one of them was young. Kri, supposedly, was old enough to be Michael's mother.
Oh, well, Syssi Shrugged. With an almost two-thousand-year-old boyfriend, who was she to pass judgment.
Boyfriend… the term kind of didn't feel right… whatever… But where the hell was Kian?
Glancing at her watch, Syssi frowned. What was keeping him and Amanda? Most of Kian's guests were already there and waiting for them to show up. Besides theirs, there were only two other vacant spots at the table.
And then even those last two arrived.
One was a frumpy, plain-looking woman; the other a very stylishly dressed, good-looking man. The woman had to be Edna, the judge, but Syssi had no idea who the guy was.
As she contemplated the dichotomy in their appearance, the woman turned her gaze on her, piercing Syssi with pale blue eyes that could only be described as otherworldly—nailed by that penetrating stare, what Edna or anyone else was wearing became inconsequential.
As she gazed into those unfathomable eyes, everything else in the room seemed to dim and recede into the shadows. Deep, soulful, and wise, they probed her like some alien device, and Syssi had the odd feeling that the woman was reading her thoughts, looking at her memories, and brushing ghostly fingers aga
inst her feelings. Unable to look away, powerless against the woman's hold, she was being weighed, measured, and judged.
It wasn't that she felt threatened, there was nothing malevolent in that stare, but she felt violated.
Syssi's distress must have shown on her face because it prompted Edna's companion to come to her rescue. He tapped the woman's shoulder to divert her attention, and as Edna turned to him, he winked at Syssi over her head and smiled.
Released from the woman's hold, Syssi took a deep breath and then another, trying to shake off the uncomfortable tightness in her chest.
But her reprieve was short-lived; the two were heading her way.
“I'm Edna.” The woman extended her hand.
Syssi pushed up from her chair. “Hi,” she answered coolly. Taking Edna's hand, she concentrated on the woman's neck, avoiding the freaky eyes.
“Sorry about the probe, I know I made you uncomfortable, but it's a knee-jerk reflex.” Edna held on to her hand, willing her to look at her face.
“Yeah, well… It was very disturbing to say the least.” Syssi took the risk of looking into the woman's eyes again, daring Edna to see how wronged she felt.
Edna held her gaze without flinching and without a hint of remorse. “You're a stranger brought into our fold, and you seem to have our regent ensnared. I had to know what you're about, but I do regret making you uncomfortable.”
Syssi's face flushed red. “Find anything interesting?” she asked sarcastically, imagining the kinky stuff the woman had been privy to as she probed her memories.
Unexpectedly, Edna laughed and patted her shoulder. “You're as sweet and as pure as they come, Syssi. But I'm not a mind reader, all I sense are feelings and the purity, or conversely taint of the soul. For whatever it's worth, you have my stamp of approval. I just hope the fates will treat you kindly.” Edna released the hand she was holding and her brief smile wilted, replaced by a look of melancholy contemplation.
“Brandon.” Her rescuer offered his hand as Edna left them.
Consumed and shaken by her encounter with his companion, Syssi had forgotten all about him. With a hand over her chest, she exhaled through puckered lips before taking his offered hand. “Hi.”
“Just imagine how an accused offender feels under that probe.” He chuckled.
“I don't want to. She is scary.” Syssi shivered, promising herself to learn and follow every last nuance of immortal law. She never wanted to be judged by those eyes again.
“She is not that bad… after you get used to her soul-searching stare, that is. She is actually an amazing woman. A very harsh and unforgiving one, but a fair judge nonetheless. Not to mention one of the greatest minds you'll ever encounter. Edna is brilliant.” He smiled in a disarming yet somewhat overdone manner, making Syssi wonder what he was really like.
“So, what do you do, Brandon? I know everyone else's job here apart from yours.”
“I'm the media consultant. The one responsible for our agenda being delivered to the public in enticing pretty packages. Movies, plays, novels… I make it happen. Like an invisible puppet master.” He lifted his hands, pretending to be pulling invisible strings with his fingers.
“And what is your agenda?”
“Democracy, equal opportunity, education, human rights, promoting science and technology. To fight evil in all its mired guises; prejudice and discrimination, hatred and ignorance, etc., etc…” Brandon smiled broadly, his white teeth gleaming in a Hollywood-worthy smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Suspecting that under all that easygoing charm, Brandon was a shark in an elegant playboy's disguise, Syssi felt a little wary of him. But then again, she couldn't really fault the guy for having what it took to survive in show business—where the waters were infested with predators.
Good thing that he was using his sharp, shark teeth for the home team. Sharp teeth indeed… Choking on the giggle that was threatening to bubble up, she saluted him. “Well, good for you,” she said quickly. “Keep up the good work.”
“Will do, ma'am.” Brandon grinned.
Finally! She spotted Kian entering the room.
As Syssi's eyes shifted to look at him, Brandon turned around to follow her gaze. “Oh, good, they're here. I'll better take my seat. It was nice chatting with you, Syssi.”
“Good evening, everyone,” Amanda said as she entered the room with Kian. “Sorry we are a tad late.” She took her place to his left.
Kian remained standing at the head of the table, and after a quick smile at Syssi, turned to his guests, waiting for them to hush down. “Good evening, I wasn't planning on making a speech, but I don't want you to get the wrong impression and think this is a party. It seems Okidu and Onidu got carried away in preparing what I intended to be a simple dinner, using this as an excuse to take all this fancy stuff out of storage and finally put it to good use. But this is not a celebration, as it would be inappropriate in light of our recent loss. My plan is to start a new tradition of casual gatherings, once or twice a week, for us to enjoy each other's company as a family, and not just a bunch of individuals working toward a common goal.” He paused.
“But as I'm already standing, I would like to take this opportunity to introduce you officially to Michael and Syssi, whom most of you have already met. The credit for finding these two special people belongs to Amanda, who researches mortals with unique paranormal abilities under the assumption that they might be potential Dormants. Syssi has a very strong precognition ability, and Michael is a good receiving telepath. Both agreed to attempt the activation process, which we have already begun.” Kian smiled at Michael before resting his eyes on Syssi.
“I would like to propose a toast to a successful outcome of this brave attempt, and the new hope Syssi and Michael bring to our future.” Kian raised his goblet, waiting for the others to join in.
Syssi watched with interest the order in which each of those present pushed to their feet to join the toast. Amanda and the Guardians were first, followed closely by William and Bridget. It took a few seconds longer for Edna and Brandon. Evidently, these two still had mixed feelings about the strangers in their midst.
“May the fates shine kindly upon us and grant us that which our hearts desire.” Kian winked at Amanda. With a light squeeze to Syssi's shoulder, he continued. “To all of us—a long, peaceful and prosperous life.” He took a long sip of his wine.
“Amen to that!” Michael exclaimed, then looked around the table, puzzled when no one echoed his affirmation. “What?”
“Not many are aware that the term Amen, actually stems from Amun, the Egyptian god of Thebes,” Edna supplied. “With time, his name became synonymous with justice and truth, and hence saying Amen after a prayer or a proclamation served as joining in it and affirming its truthfulness. However, by using his name in this manner, you're implying that you're an Amun worshiper, which I'm sure you're not.” She smiled at him apologetically. “I know this tidbit of information tastes sour to most mortals accustomed to saying Amen in their various modes of worship.”
“I didn't know that.” Michael looked down at his plate.
“Very few do, and even fewer care. It's akin to non-Christians saying, Jesus, or Christ, or atheists saying God. It became just an expression.”
Thankfully, the sound of the pantry door swinging open broke the uncomfortable silence that followed.
“Oh, good, I'm definitely ready for some food.” Edna unfolded her napkin and draped it over her trousers.
“Dinner is served,” Okidu called from under the huge platter of soup bowls he was carrying. With the grace of a seasoned acrobat, he held the enormous thing with one hand while placing the bowls in front of each person without spilling a drop.
How is he doing that? Syssi wondered as she took the first spoonful, closing her eyes when the exquisite flavor hit her taste buds.
For a few precious moments, everyone was quiet, busy with the first course. Then, clearing her throat, Edna addressed Kian. “I don't want to be the
Grinch and spoil this festive mood, but aren't we taking a great risk, exposing ourselves this way? I'm not implying that Syssi or Michael’s intent is to harm us, but what happens if they don't turn? It will be next to impossible to suppress this many memories. They’ll be bound to remember some of it.”
“It’ll be nothing more than tidbits of hazy dream-like recollections. I gave it a long and thorough consideration and took a calculated risk, Edna. The alternative is to thrall them repeatedly, which in my experience compounds the damage. And besides being deceitful and cruel, it borders on violating the law of consent, which I'm sure you of all people should find objectionable.” Kian held Edna's gaze.
Eventually, she lowered her eyes, reluctantly accepting the logic and moral underpinnings of his decision. “Okay, I agree. I don't like it, but I guess it is a risk we must take.”
“Hey, everyone! I have an idea for a movie!” Brandon snapped the tense quiet stretching across the table. “It will be called, My Immortal Lover—a love story between an immortal woman and a mortal mercenary soldier who was left for dead and she saves with a small transfusion of her potent blood.” With a smug smile, he cast about the dinner guests for support.
“It's so cheesy, I could puke!” Kri didn't hesitate to shoot it down. “I'm so sick of the whole vampire, slash blood thing. How about a bunch of kickass immortal female warriors taking down a drug cartel in Mexico?” She elbowed Bridget, who winced and rubbed her side instead of supporting the idea.
Brandon nodded. “That's actually good… I can see it.” He crossed his open palm in front of his face as if painting a picture. “Twelve, tall, scantily dressed, gorgeous women—glistening with the sweat of the hot and humid Mexican air, slaughtering evil drug lords and their merciless minions. They uncover an imprisoned, badly injured group of American commando fighters who had crash-landed in the jungle and been captured by the drug traffickers. They save their lives with injections of their blood, and together they continue the commandos' mission of uncovering and killing an even greater evil; sex-slavers, trafficking in young girls.”
