by I. T. Lucas
“What about Brian? I would think you guys were close, especially after going out on a romantic lunch date and then going shopping together.”
She’d laughed herself into hiccups when Victor had told her about Brian’s courtship tutoring.
Victor grimaced. “After that fiasco, I really don’t want to see him. Now, every time we meet, he has this knowing smirk on his face that irritates the hell out of me. I go out of my way to limit our communications to online correspondence. Except, some things need to be done face to face. I don’t trust the internet, not even with the best safety protocols employed.”
Brian sounded like a hoot, and it would benefit Turner to pull the stick out of his butt and embrace humor.
“Can we invite him over? He’s already been to your apartment. Don’t you want to show him what you’ve done with it?”
“What Ingrid has done with it. I only wrote the checks.”
He was doing his redirecting and evading thing, but it wasn’t going to work on her.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t want to invite Brian, but I know you won’t let it rest until I do. When should I tell him is a good time?”
“Any time this week is good. Next week we are going to Douglas’s wedding. Which reminds me that I still didn’t buy a dress. I would’ve ordered online, but Amanda convinced me to visit her favorite boutique. She said they make speedy alterations and everything will fit perfectly, which is rarely the case with the things I order. How about you? Did you try your tux on?”
“No.”
“So how do you know it still fits?”
“It fits.” Victor parked the car and killed the engine.
Men. Bridget rolled her eyes. “You are trying it on as soon as we are done here.”
“I don’t have it with me.”
Fates, please give me patience.
“As soon as we get back home.”
“Yes, ma'am.” He winked.
9
Kian
“Good evening.” Kian walked over to Turner and offered him his hand. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”
“Thank you. The chemo was killing me.”
“Instead of curing you. That’s most unfortunate.”
“Indeed.”
“Please, make yourselves comfortable.” Kian motioned Turner and Bridget toward the conference table and took his usual seat at the head of it.
The three of them were a few minutes early, which meant that he would have to come up with something to talk about before Edna and Arwel got there.
Touchy situation.
He couldn’t reveal the reason he was subjecting Turner to those tests, and he was having a hard time coming up with an excuse that sounded legitimate and not the capricious whim of a power-hungry leader.
“If I may ask, Kian. Why am I meeting the judge? Did I transgress in any way?”
Kian smirked. “You did, but that’s not why you’re here.”
Turner arched a brow. “What did I do?”
“You know very well what you did. You had me and Andrew followed, discovered the location of the keep when it was none of your business to know it, and then did the same with the village. I’m sure there are many other things you discovered that you were not supposed to.”
“None of it was against the law. Not even yours.”
Kian nodded. “True, and that’s why you’re not seeing the judge about penance. She is only going to assess your character and determine if you’re worthy of our Bridget.”
“What?” Bridget exclaimed, her temper flaring as evidenced by the sudden glow emanating from her eyes. “Is that why we are here? You didn’t subject the other Dormants to Edna’s interrogation. Why Turner?”
“Not true. Edna probed Syssi.” Not on Kian’s instructions, and without asking his permission, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use the fact to his advantage. Bridget didn’t need to know that Edna had acted without consulting him first.
“I didn’t know that.” Bridget deflated and collapsed back into her chair. Crossing her arms over her chest, she asked, “When did she do it?”
“You were there when she did it. Remember the first dinner we had with Syssi and Michael?”
“I didn’t notice. Did she do it to Michael as well?”
“No. But then Michael wasn’t involved with the keep’s leader or one of its council members. Edna was worried about Syssi’s potential influence on me.”
It was a handy excuse since Bridget was a councilwoman, which made her case more similar to his than that of the other immortals with transitioned mates. “Edna also probed Dalhu,” he added for good measure. After all, Amanda was a councilwoman as well.
“That’s because he is an ex-Doomer, and not because Amanda sits on the council.”
“True, but even if he weren’t an ex-Doomer, I would’ve asked Edna to probe him.”
Turner cleared his throat. “What is that probe you’re talking about?”
Kian couldn’t help the wince. “You’ll see in a moment.”
The guy didn’t look concerned. “I sat next to Edna during Bridget’s presentation. She kept up a running commentary, explaining the big assembly rules to me. I didn’t get any unpleasant vibes from her.”
“Here she is.” Kian got to his feet and hurried to open the door for the judge. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course. Hello, Bridget. Victor, nice to meet you again.” She offered him her hand.
“Same here.” He shook what she’d offered.
A moment later Arwel arrived, thankfully sober.
Kian was pulling every resource he had, except for Andrew. But given the history between his brother-in-law and his ex-commander, it seemed inappropriate to involve him.
Edna sat across from Turner, with Arwel taking the seat next to her.
Kian put both hands on the table and leaned forward. “Now that everyone is here, we can proceed. Edna, you go first.”
The judge cast him one of her withering looks. “Did you explain to Victor what I’m about to do?”
Kian shook his head. “I thought it would be best to leave it to you.”
“Of course, you did.” She didn’t even try to hide the disapproval in her tone.
Her next glare was directed at Bridget. “By the guilty expression on your face, you didn’t explain anything either.”
Bridget’s cheeks pinked, and she shook her head.
“I apologize for these two, Victor. You should have been mentally prepared.”
That was enough. Edna was stretching Kian’s patience. “You didn’t bother to mentally prepare Syssi when you probed her.”
She waved a hand. “That was nothing. The girl wears her emotions on her sleeve. I didn’t have to probe deep at all.”
“You could’ve and should’ve asked my permission.” Finally, he got it off his chest. There were several reasons for why he hadn’t done so before. For one, he understood why Edna had done it, and two, confronting her about it would have required some punitive measures and Kian had no idea how to go about sentencing the judge. The whole business would have been better left alone, but unfortunately, his temper had gotten the better of him.
“Yes, you’re right.” She bowed her head. “I apologize.”
Turner followed the exchange with his usual impassive expression. “Can we please get on with it? Whatever it is? You forget that I’ve been interrogated extensively throughout my military career and put through every psych test imaginable. I don’t need mental preparation.”
Edna smiled at him indulgently. “Very well. Let’s proceed. Could you please come over here and switch places with Arwel.”
Turner did as she asked.
“Now face me.” She waited for him to reposition his chair. “And give me your hands.”
That made the guy a little uncomfortable, and he cast a quick glance at Bridget. When she nodded, he refocused on Edna. “Now what?”
“I’m going to probe your
mind. I don’t read thoughts, so you shouldn't fear me discovering secrets that you’re not free to divulge. I assess feelings and intentions.”
Kian moved to the other side of the table so he could watch both the judge and her victim at the same time.
Turner chuckled nervously. “Then you’re not going to find much.”
Edna’s eyes got sadder. “No, it only means that I’ll have to dig deeper and that it’s not going to be comfortable for you. Resisting me will make things harder, but I have a feeling it’s not something you can do voluntarily. Try to relax and grant me access.”
“I’ll do my best.”
It seemed Turner was starting to realize that Edna’s probing was unlike any interrogation he’d been subjected to. His shoulders tensed, and his lips compressed into a thin line.
“I want you to think about Bridget,” Edna said.
The doctor leaned closer and whispered in Kian’s ear, “What does that have to do with anything?”
He whispered back, “If he has strong feelings for you, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety.”
Since Turner was still human, it was a bullshit argument. Only immortal males developed such an overpowering need to protect their truelove mates, making all other considerations irrelevant. Not that human males didn’t feel the need to protect their females, but it wasn’t an unbreakable compulsion like the one immortal males experienced when gifted with their one truelove mate.
Thankfully, Bridget bought his argument and didn’t poke at the finer points.
Watching Edna and Turner sitting frozen in their postures, the inner battle they were waging invisible to onlookers, was as fascinating as watching paint dry.
The minutes were ticking away at a maddeningly slow pace.
Turner must’ve been a real hard nut to crack.
Kian had never seen Edna put so much effort into a probe. Her hands, which were still holding on to Turner’s, were shaking. Though it was hard to tell if the shaking originated with Edna or with Turner.
The guy, who was pale to start with, was so white he could play Casper the not-so-friendly ghost without the benefit of makeup. The probe was draining him.
Even Arwel, who was there as an observer, seemed in pain. Whatever was going on in that silent communication must’ve been intense.
When Edna dropped Turner’s hands and leaned back in her chair, everyone in the room held their breath, except for Turner who looked like he was about to faint.
A smile spread over Edna’s face. “Wow, that was one of the toughest probes I’ve ever done. In fact, I think it was the hardest.”
“What’s the verdict?” Turner mumbled through dry lips.
Bridget pushed to her feet, walked over to the buffet and poured him a glass of water. After handing him the glass, she went back and poured another one for Edna who looked like she could use a drink too.
“A lot is going on in there, but it’s buried so deep, I felt as if I’m digging a mine with my fingernails.” Edna took a sip of her water. “Thank you, I needed that.”
Kian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to wait patiently and not shout at Edna to start talking.
Edna put her glass down and turned to the pale man slumped in a chair next to her. “Honor is your main motivator, Victor, that and your belief that your services are indispensable. You’re incredibly inquisitive, and there are a million questions swirling around in your head, guarding your inner self like armed specters. Underneath there is also love, steady and strong, but it terrifies you. That’s why you push it down below the barrier of your consciousness. You have to accept that it’s there and it’s not going anywhere. It’s not an infatuation, it’s the real deal.”
Turner looked as surprised by the revelation as everyone else in the room.
But then love was intangible, and Edna might have found what she’d been hoping to find. Kian wanted a second opinion.
“What about you, Arwel?”
The Guardian shook his head. “Tough nut. But I agree with Edna. Turner would give his life for Bridget. But it’s more than that. He thinks of the clan as his family.”
“I do?” Turner asked.
“Yeah, you do. You’re very skilled at hiding things even from yourself, buddy.”
Bridget still didn’t say a thing, the woman was probably too stunned for words.
“Edna, do you have any energy left to probe Bridget?” Kian asked.
Unless love burned hot on both sides, they were not truelove mates. Thankfully, the judge didn’t wonder why he was asking her to probe a clan member—a councilwoman—and if she did, she kept it to herself.
“There is no need. Bridget broadcasts her love for Victor so strongly that anyone with a smidgen of telepathic ability would catch it. But she also hides from it out of fear. The same fear that paralyzes her mate.”
10
Turner
Edna’s probe was one of the worst experiences Turner had had to endure, and yet he was grateful to her.
The question was whether he believed her. The telepath had confirmed what she’d said, but perhaps the guy had been influenced by Edna’s spin and what she thought she’d found deep in Turner’s psyche.
How could two strangers know more about him than he knew about himself? It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t dumb, he wasn’t obtuse, and he knew what was going on with him inside and out.
“You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” Bridget said as they entered their apartment. “And a steak. You’re pale like a sheet of parchment paper.”
Turner glanced at his reflection in the mirror hanging next to the entry door. He looked like he had during the chemo days. As if a vampire had drained him of his blood, leaving just enough for him to shuffle his feet.
“If you’re offering me a steak, the situation must be indeed dire.”
Bridget sighed. “It’s so dire that I’m thinking of having one myself.”
His eyes widened. “I’m on it.” He was in the kitchen and opening the freezer before she had a chance to bat her eyelashes.
“I was kidding, Victor. But you can defrost one for yourself if you want to.”
The temporary burst of energy left him in a rush, and he had to brace a hand on the counter before lowering himself to the nearest barstool. “Maybe a little later. After the coffee.”
Bridget walked up to Turner and wrapped her arms around him, pulling his head to her chest as if he was a child in need of his mother’s comfort. “Edna did a number on both of us.” She kissed his forehead.
“Uh-hm.”
“She forced us to confront our fears.”
He nodded.
“Coffee first. And then we talk.” She let go of him and got busy with the coffeemaker.
Good, he needed a few moments to himself. Except, if he hadn’t come up with any earth-shattering conclusions during the drive home, chances were it wasn’t coming.
Damn it, he hated Edna’s psychological crap. That was why he avoided therapists, and had suffered through psych evaluations only because he’d been forced to during his service.
When the machine was done brewing, Bridget poured them two cups, fixed hers the way she liked it and headed for the living room.
Turner was still in the same spot she’d left him.
“Come on, let’s sit on the couch.”
“Do I have to? It sounds too much like an invitation to a shrink session.”
Nevertheless, he shuffled all the way to the thing and sat next to Bridget. “You have no idea how I detest stuff like that.”
Bridget nodded in agreement. “I hear it’s not a pleasant experience when Edna does her probe. Most everyone would rather avoid it.”
Holding the coffee cup between his palms, Turner shook his head. “I’m not talking about Edna specifically. I’m talking about everything that has to do with shrinks and the like. There is no way they know for sure what’s going on in a person’s head or their gut. They are just guessing. Sometimes they are right, but often
times they are wrong. No one has the right to tell me what I feel, and what I do not, or try to convince me that I’m hiding from my supposed feelings or any other unprovable crap like that.”
If his words were hurting Bridget, she wasn’t showing it.
Hell, he was hurting her for sure. An hour ago Edna had declared his love for Bridget, and now he sounded as if he was denying it. It was cruel, but not as cruel as feeding her a lie.
“You’re not being logical, Victor.”
“Excuse me?” He thought he was the only one who was. Even Kian had lost his fucking mind for orchestrating that circus.
“You think you are, but you’re not. I can prove it.”
He waved her on. “Be my guest.”
“Let’s start with what brought us here. You discovered that you had cancer, and instead of seeking treatment you sought immortality. Not the most logical move in anyone’s playbook.”
“I wasn’t going out on a limb. I knew about immortals and I knew about Andrew’s transformation.”
“You knew that immortals existed, and you also knew that Andrew had been turned. What you didn’t know was whether you're a Dormant. And although the chances were tiny, you decided to take a leap of faith. Nothing has changed in that regard. We still don't know if you're a Dormant or not." She looked into his eyes. “Faith, Victor, is not rational and it’s not logical. You followed your gut.”
“Where are you going with that?”
She lifted her palm to shush him. “I’m proving that not everything you believe about yourself is true. The will to live is a powerful thing. I don’t blame you for taking a leap of faith on a very unorthodox cure. I’m only showing you that your thinking is skewed.”
She had a point there. His chosen course of action was based only on a few facts, and the rest was based on unprovable assumptions, which were nevertheless critical to the successful implementation of his plan. Basing his decision on such shaky foundation required a leap of faith.
“Do you like being with me, Victor?”
