“Can we not talk about Paul? I don’t want to talk about anything besides promising we’ll never leave each other’s sides again,” I said, my words muffled by his chest. “And I mean that in the literal sense.”
“Not to get technical, but I’m not the one who has broken that promise, my love.”
I winced, wishing he wasn’t right. “Don’t remind me, but here’s the thing I realized. Call it an epiphany. The world wants us dead whether we’re together or not. If I’m going to be chased by death . . . forever, I want you at my side.”
He rung his arm around my neck, kissing the top of my head. “As optimistic as you are romantic. But I’ll take whatever epiphany you have if it means you’ll never run away again.”
“I know you’ve heard this before, but yes, I promise. I’d rather die with you than all alone.”
“And I’d rather live with you than all alone.”
“Point taken, Mr. Glass Half-Full.”
“So while I’m getting things off my chest,”—I took a death breath, I needed this one—“I only said I didn’t want to run away with you because I was scared of what would happen to you. I could give a crap if we get the blessing of a bunch of crabby, decrepit old men. If you want to run away . . . anytime would be good for me, including two seconds from right now, and—”
His lips were on mine again, smashing and smoothing against them like waves breaking on the sand. Lost in the mind-dumbing fog that was William’s mouth, I was aware of nothing else, least of all the rustling of hurried footsteps coming behind me.
“Move,” William shouted against my mouth suddenly, pushing me to the side before leaping headfirst into the jungle wall in front of him.
I righted myself, tumbling through the green wall hot on his heels.
“What are you doing here?” he snarled, dropping someone to the ground. “Who are you?” His fingers choked around the wide-eyed woman’s neck.
She was Immortal, the pale blue hue in her eyes and stunning beauty giving that away, but her face was unfamiliar. It was a face that one would remember, too. She could have been the offspring of Malibu Barbie and GI Joe—so pretty she was shiny, almost sparkly, but there was a toughness about her, like her aura’s motto was, I’m kicking butt and taking names . . . with a machine gun and crew cut if need be.
She looked more scared than surprised, like a mouse expecting a scrap of cheese only to fetch a trap. Her eyes flew from William to me, but she didn’t put up a fight.
“He asked you a question,” I said, coming around her from the other side. “I’d advise you answer it. Soon.”
She pinched her eyes closed, shaking her head feverishly.
I crouched down, placing my face right over hers. William tensed, but I didn’t back away. I’d proven somewhere along the way that I was more than capable of taking care of myself and just because my selfless protector was back in my life didn’t mean I was going to sideline that enlightened state of me. “Who. Sent. You?” I’d also, as of late, perfected the don’t-mess-with-me tone.
Her eyes flashed into mine. “He’ll kill me . . .”
“Well, that pretty much answers that,” I said, looking at William, knowing he’d arrived at the same conclusion I had. “Seems John just can’t get over killing me.”
“We didn’t know you were here,” she said, rushing over each word. “We came for him.” Her black-lined eyes fell to William and something of a blush seemed to color her cheeks. Unbelievable . . . he could manage to fluster a woman even as he was threatening her.
“There are more of you?” I asked, willing her to look back at me. I was a little territorial when it came to other woman ogling him. That was my job. “How many more?” My gaze flicked to the dark forest behind us, half-expecting a replay of a few nights back in Germany.
“A couple dozen or so,” she said, her lower lip shivering. “They sent me to scout things out first. To see if anyone else was with you.”
William’s face fell. “Do you know if any more parties like yours have been sent after my family?”
“No,” she answered, not able to look him in the eyes. “John wanted you to be the first.”
A sound that was all rage escaped from my throat.
“How long do we have?” William asked, glancing at me nervously.
She bit her lip, shaking her head again. “He’ll kill me.”
Growing tired of William’s nice-cop act, I decided it was time for bad-cop to initiate truth extraction sequence. I wove my fingers through the hair on the top of her head, gripping rigid fingers into her scalp. “I really hate John, but I don’t mind one bit taking care of you for him.” My fingers drilled deeper into her skin, acknowledgement painting her expression. “You know who I am?”
Her head bobbed once.
“You know what I’m capable of?”
Two bobs.
“Then we’ll ask once more. I know I’ve shown an exceptional level of restraint as of late, but something about knowing you and whoever’s with you were sent to kill the man I love kind of makes restraint a moot point.” I raised my brows at her, half of me wanting her to keep her lips sealed. “How long do we have?”
This time her answer came like a river exploding through a dam. “They gave me a half hour.”
I looked at my wrist out of reflex, not needing the absent watch to know how much time had already gone by since we’d caught the Inheritor Snitch. We had twenty-six minutes left.
“Good girl,” I said, eager to have my skin off of her. I looked at the man across from me. The thought of having him back in my life, only to be taken from me all in the same night, was not an acceptable option. “We’ve got to go. Now, William.”
He stayed rooted where he was, unmoving. “We have to take her with us. She knows you’re here and when she tells whoever’s back there waiting for me, their two dozen will become two hundred before we cross the Mexican border. I won’t put you in that kind of danger. She comes with us.” He looked at me and despite wanting to, I knew arguing with him would get me nowhere.
“Fine,” I said, ready to hoist her up. “I’ll throw her over my shoulder. But we’re getting you out of here now.”
William grabbed my forearm, halting me. “I can’t leave them behind,” he nodded behind him to the medical tent where a Spanish lullaby was soothing a cooing newborn.
“Darn it, William Hayward,” I said, exasperated. He was making the world’s mission of killing us easy.
His fingers stroked my cheek with one hand while he fished a cell phone out of his back pocket with the other. Pressing a couple keys, the speaker on the other end picked up midway through the first ring. William interrupted whatever greeting was being given. “I need you here, brother.”
Something was said, likely in sarcasm, on the other side of the line. William chuckled, turning his back to us and striding forward for some privacy. The last thing I heard him mention was our location and who knows what followed, coordinates, directions, or astrology, but when he turned around, joining his female admirers again, he asked, “You have any Morphers in this neck of the woods?”
Patrick’s voice burst through the speaker. “I have Morphers in every neck of the woods.”
“Good. I need one here. Oh, and Patrick, they’ve got twenty minutes.”
Patrick humphed. “Good thing he’s fast.”
The line went dead and, before he could pocket it, Patrick was there, blocking my view of William . . . already irritating before he’d opened his mouth.
“Nice directions, brother,” Patrick said, slapping the side of William’s arm. “Any better and I would landed on your shoulders.”
I cleared my throat, making no disguise of the irritation in it. “You know how your brother said we didn’t have much time?” I didn’t wait for Patrick’s smirk to turn to me. “That includes none for your antics.”
“Oh how I missed that voice, like teeth gnawing tyrofoam.” He flicked his ear, tilting his head back at me.
“Watc
h it, Patrick,” William warned, more fond than fierce. I often thought that his weak spot, next to me, was Patrick.
“You guys good?” he asked, looking at William, but sounding like he was asking me.
“Yes,” William and I answered simultaneously.
“So soon?” Patrick shook his head through his laughter. “I’ve got three words for you,” he gripped his brother’s shoulders, leaning forward like he was about to share something critical. “Hard to get. It’s okay to play it every century or two. Especially when the woman who turned you into chop suey comes begging at your door,”—he looked back at me, a twinkle in his eyes—“and with that sad puppy dog face she’s been wearing the better part of two months, I’d say she’d be willing to give you anything you wanted.” Patrick’s eyebrows crested as he elbowed William. “Here are three more words for you, brother—”
“I appreciate all the manly, brotherly advice coming from someone as experienced as you are in the woman department,”—William and I shared a look—“but there really is no time for this right now. Later, okay? I’ll take any advice you can give me that would help me get whatever I want from her.” We shared another look, but this one both had us blushing.
Patrick looked back at me. “You can thank me later,” he said, winking, before he finally noticed the Inheritor spy I was keeping down with my hand wrung around her neck.
“Hellllloooow,” Patrick said, more of a whistle than an annunciation. “And who have we here?”
“She hasn’t told us her name, but she’s one of John’s and whoever’s waiting for her was sent to kill William.” Something feral gripped around the last few words, making me sound fierce.
“I’m Sierra,” she offered, staring up at Patrick.
“Sierra,” he rolled the name around in his mouth, tasting it. “Now there’s a range of mountains I wouldn’t mind summiting.”
I rolled my eyes, wanting to stick my finger in my mouth, but Sierra beat me to a response. “That bloated charm of yours might have worked on plenty of girls before.” Her eyes skimmed down the length of her body. “But do you see any girls here?”
“Oh, I like this one,” Patrick said, his eyes dancing from her to William. “Can I keep her, dad?”
“Go swan dive off a cliff, Patrick Hayward.”
He looked thrown by this, but more excited than anything. “I see my reputation precedes me. What did I tell you, William? My looks and charm are legendary.”
One side of Sierra’s mouth curled up. “John told me Patrick Hayward was the most conceited, raving ego-maniac in the history of Immortality.” The other side of her mouth followed suit, revealing a smile that was all teeth and wit. If she hadn’t been sent to end my meaning for life, I might have actually liked this glamazon chick. “Your reputation really does precede you.”
Patrick’s head looked like it had just experienced whiplash, but he was as quick on his feet as she was. “Saucy.”
“Bite me,” she said, looking like she was ready to go all night if need be and I didn’t doubt she could do it.
“All spice, minus the sweet. Just the way I like it,” Patrick said, stepping towards us.
“You gag that one,” I said to William, nodding at Patrick. “I’ll gag this one. That’s the only way we’re going to get out of here before John’s army of assassins comes looking for us.” I glared at Patrick. “Again.”
“Relax, relax. We can’t go anywhere until my Morpher gets here anyways.” Patrick consulted his watch. “I would have thought you’d be in a better mood since you got your man back.”
Another five minutes had passed and if another five did before the Morpher showed up, I was binding William’s wrists and ankles, tossing him over my shoulders, and sprinting with the wind until I hit Canada.
“Sorry I took so long,” a man said in a strong Latin accent, breezing to a stop in front of Patrick. “Traffic,” he said, shrugging.
“And by traffic you mean . . .” Patrick asked, looking like he already knew the answer.
The man nodded. “John’s men. About thirty of them spaced over a five mile direction that way,” he nodded to the direction he’d just come. “Might I suggest, sir,”—he looked at William like a devote Catholic would the Pope—“going the other way.” He pointed his head in front of him.
“You know what you’re getting yourself into?” William asked, concern lining his face. “You know what these men were sent to do to me. What they’ll do to you if they catch you?”
The man looked William straight on. “It would be an honor to die in your defense, sir.”
Patrick’s eyes rolled to the sky. “I told you, Norberto. Nix the sirs and hero-worship. Ruler of the universe doesn’t like it.”
Norberto bowed his head. “Pardon me, sir . . . I mean . . .”
“Thank you, Norberto,” William interrupted, patting the man’s brown cheek. “You are giving me the opportunity to get her out of here. I will be forever indebted to you.”
Norberto looked up at William, his eyes shiny wet. He thrust his fist to his chest. “It is an honor.”
“Alright, alright,” Patrick said, pulling Norberto to the side. “He may be Zeus of the Immortals, but he’s still my brother . . . and he’s even been known to fart every now and again.” He flashed William a look that was all annoying little brother before turning to Norberto. “Alright, show time, buddy. Do your thing.”
Norberto looked at William, studying him like a sequence of code, his eyes moving like a typewriter. His body started to quiver, like something inside was trying to burst its way to the surface. I felt my mouth drop, but given I was watching a man change, square-inch by square-inch before me, I felt it was a better response than screaming in horror. The transition was smooth, but not instant. It started at his feet, moving up his body like a theatre curtain being lifted to reveal the star attraction hiding behind it.
Norberto was short and slight, but by the end of it, he’d lengthened the full six foot three godliness that was William and stacked layers of muscle in all the right places.
“Oh, my gosh. . .” I was incapable of offering anything more intelligent.
William, or Norberto-William, looked at me, hitching his hands on his hips, and flashed a smile that was scary similar to the one that made my body rush whenever William gave it. He winked.
William tapped Norberto’s chest. “Don’t get any ideas. She’s taken.”
“Lucky girl,” Sierra said, her eyes ping-ponging between the two Williams like mine were. “That’s a dilemma I wouldn’t mind finding myself lip deep in.”
“Why?” Patrick semi-hollered, lifting his hands to the sky. “Why is it every female in existence goes for you when you’ve only had it bad for one of them?” Patrick looked at me with playful exaggeration. “What a waste.”
“You’re not bad to look at either, sweetheart,” Sierra said, looking Patrick over. “But there are these key characteristics women look for in a man: humility, intelligence, passion, that whole I’d-go-to-the-ends-of-the-earth-for-the-woman-I-love thing. It’s a thing called romance. And from everything I’ve heard, you’re the anti-romantic.”
He crossed his arms. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to believe everything you hear?”
“I’ve heard that a time or two,” she said, playfulness in her eyes, or was it . . . flirting? “The thing is, rumors generally become so because they’re true.”
“That’s a messed-up view to have.”
“I know. That’s why I give the person the benefit of the doubt before I accept the rumor as the be-all-end-all.” She smiled at him, no disguise about the flirtation in it, and what was crazy was Patrick’s smile of reciprocation.
Here we were, death circling around us in some sweltering Central American jungle, and these two found it an appropriate time to bat lashes at each other. Dinosaurs had better survival instincts.
These two were perfect for each other.
I snapped my fingers. “Back to reality kids. Reality being t
hirty of John’s gorillas chomping at the bits to pull every last bit of life from us.”
The four light faces around me eclipsed into darkness. Debbie –Downer wasn’t generally my thing, but a girl’s got to do what she’s got to do to save her man.
“The Morpher’s here,”—I gestured at him—“morphed and ready to go. You two can stay here and pass notes if you want,”—I didn’t make the annoyance in my eyes slight—“but I’m getting you out of here.”
William was staring back at me, covering his mouth that I knew was turned up in amusement. “I’m getting you out of here,” he said, still looking amused by my tirade, before turning to Norberto. He embraced him and though it seemed there should be stranger things I’d seen, I couldn’t think of any as I watched William hugging . . . himself.
“If you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me.”
My William pulled back from imposter William as he said, “An honor, sir.”
Patrick threw his arms in the air, giving me a look that said, can you believe this guy? Before twisting Norberto away from William. “You know what to do, you’ve been trained by the best”—Patrick winked at him—“make me proud. Divert some Inheritor slugs.”
Norberto high-fived him like he’d just been given a pep-talk pregame as opposed to pre-death. “Ladies,” Norberto nodded at us, his legs popping from energy.
“Lead them away from here, as far as you can,” William said, likely feeling the weight of having to chose between the deaths of many Mortals to the death of one Immortal. It couldn’t have been an easy one, but he exuded grace under fire. “Then morph back as soon as you can. You know what they’ll do to you if they catch you?”
Norberto nodded once. “I grew up in a village near here. I take my calling of being a Guardian seriously. If it takes my life to save theirs, I’d consider my Immortality well spent.” With that, he jetted into the trees, nothing but the white-blue streak trailing into the night to remember him by.
I, like William, would be forever indebted to Norberto. There’d be few things I’d deny him if he ever asked me for a favor.
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