Eternal Eden (49 page)

My body chilled with the understanding of his words, and a darkness covered me that could only be cast by pure evil’s soul.

“I love you. I always have Bryn, and I always will. My love will always be with you—to protect you whenever you need it most.” He kissed me softly just below my ear, and then his determined arms lost the battle to his formidable will, and he set me down on the floor.

I twisted immediately around to face him, to reach back out for him, but he was already backing up from me, with his hands raised in surrender towards the men behind him.

“No, William!” I cried out. I wanted him to run more than I had before, even after his reminder that we swore we’d never allow separation to tear us apart again. I hadn’t allowed myself to think of the severity of punishment he would be sentenced to, until he’d whispered it into my ear.

He smiled at me with peace filled eyes, and the two men grabbed him from behind.

John sounded exultant, “Stella, if you would be so kind.”

Stella sauntered from John’s side to the trio of men. She smiled wickedly at me in passing, before resting one hand over William’s shoulder and raising her eyebrows to John.

“We wouldn’t want you doing anything too rash, now would we? You see, now that I know who you are, I’m very well aware of the powers you possess. Your remarkable strength could quite easily best my men. That’s why I’ve brought Stella along, of course. Her talent comes in handy in these kinds of situations.”

Stella’s gift obviously had something to do with why her hand was on William, but what was she doing?

John answered my question, guessing my thoughts. “Stella is able to render another Immortal’s gift useless.” He looked pointedly at the hand resting on William’s shoulder. “Although she must be touching her
victim
—”

I shot him a baleful look.

“For lack of a better word.” He retorted, his eyes burning with arousal at my sudden fierceness.

“I would have gone without a fight, you know that John,” William sneered. “This”—his head motioned towards Stella—“is not necessary.”

John’s face lit up, as if some hidden punch line were coming. “I’m not so sure about that . . . especially with what’s going to happen next.”

John shrugged his head in my direction, and Thomas and Dante advanced towards me. Before I could take a step back, they had hold of me, each one holding an arm behind my back. I heard the ear-shattering roar behind me.

“You gave me your word you would do her no harm!” William’s voice tore through the room, fiercer than any voice I’d ever heard.

John’s laugh could only be compared to that of the devil’s when he’s been notified of another soul taken. “I suppose I did, Mr. Hayward, but I simply cannot let the reciprocal actions of my Betrothed go unpunished. Did you really think I would forgive her so easily and let all this pass.” He motioned with his finger between William and me with agitation, his voice raising an octave with every word. “Did you really think I would settle for used goods and being second best?” His tone was equally deafening to William’s former upheaval. His body shook with convulsions as his anger continued to spill over every plane of his body.

It was then I noticed William’s face affixed in deep concentration, his body shaking in opposition, and I realized why he was trying to fight now—to fight for what doom he knew we would both meet—and Stella’s gift held his superior strength and skill in her calculating hold.

I fought against the bear-like hands clutching over my arms, willing my strength to increase at that moment so I could be free of my captors and pummel that twit who was the reason for William being rendered so weak and helpless.

My attempts were feeble, to put it mildly. I didn’t gain an inch, fighting with all my might against the two gorillas restraining me. I felt their amusement and chuckles reverberating from them.

“No need to get yourself so worked-up, William. I won’t allow the same punishment that will be yours to cause such waste by putting an end to the pretty little thing before you now.” John approached me, and ran his fingers down my cheek, progressing down my neck.

“I will still claim her—another addition to my collection—although she’ll be like my dog now. When I call her, she’ll obey and come, and when I’m through with her, I’ll throw her back into the caged prison she will know as home until I require her
company
again.” John’s hand left my neck, and slapped across my face; leaving a burning sensation behind that felt more like ice than fire.

William erupted again, a stream of curses and threats that flowed with such speed and intensity, I couldn’t keep up. John recomposed himself; his arrogant demeanor  reaffixed to his face. He looked to be thoroughly enjoying the agony crippling William.

I remained silent. I wasn’t so shocked by John’s words or actions.  In truth, I’d already expected it would be like this being United with John Townsend . . . even before he’d marched through the doors to my room this morning. What could one expect of a man who was capable of having his wife annihilated from the world because she’d uncovered one of his many vices?

John nodded at one of the men holding William, and the guard’s arm pressed back, his hand balling into a sizable fist, and launched it into William’s stomach. The punch could have caused enough internal bleeding to have been the death of a Mortal—or at the very least caused someone to cough up a sizable quantity of blood— but William barely showed the smallest flicker of pain when the fist came in contact with the stomach I’d memorized with my fingers (was it only several nights ago?). His face recovered, and the hatred aimed at John returned.

 “Stop it! Don’t touch him!” I yelled at William’s captors.

“It’s pathetic, you know,” John continued, without mercy. “That you’ve been alone for two hundred plus years, and like some smitten school boy, fall for a putrid Mortal who you save from her own death so as to keep her with you forever, and now . . . ”—John was amused again, laughing darkly—“you’re going to die, and I’m going to take her for my own.” His evil chuckles were then accompanied by five others. “Better luck next time, Mr. Hayward.” 

John turned on his heels, and marched to the door he’d come through less than ten minutes ago—how could everything change so drastically in a handful of minutes? Story of my life . . .

 He paused and turned his head, raising his eyebrows in expectation, ordering my jailers to surge forward. My head shot back anxiously, making sure the remaining four followed behind us.

William’s eyes met mine and there was a desperation there that would have floored me had there not been two strong men holding me upright. I forced my head forward again, unable to look into those expressive eyes any longer.

Furious beyond words, for a more important reason than the sentence I was going to serve in the near future, I turned to John as I was being pulled through the doorway and shouted, “Where are you taking us?”

“To the Council chambers—you should remember them, my dear.” He smiled wickedly as I replayed the scene in that hideous room in my head. I held back the shudder that sprung up from deep within.

The new found confidence I’d discovered as of late, emerged, and as I was drug through the door past him, I spat, “The Councilmen all went home last night. It will take you hours to get them reassembled again.” I spoke with fury and justified authority—I’d spent a good portion of last night conversing with the Councilmen’s wives, and they all expressed their eagerness for getting back home after their week long stint at Townsend Manor.

He smiled ruefully. “That’s quite true. They all did go home last night, but there was a fascinating piece of information I became privy to late last night that got my attention.” I wanted to inquire further into this information, but he continued without pause. “I summoned them all back early this morning, before I found you and Mr. Hayward so inappropriately intertwined.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the words sound vulgar. “They’re already awaiting us below.”

He shot a devilishly-angelic smile at me as I was pushed through the door, and without a thought I screamed back at him, “I will never be yours! I will never belong to you, no matter what you do.”

The trio holding firmly to William passed by John and through the doorway next.

“No, I don’t suppose you’ll ever look at it that way, but nonetheless, you can’t deny the truth, Bryn.” He slammed the door shut behind us and continued to answer me from behind, taking up the rear of our parade. “Although I don’t suppose I’ll ever call you my Betrothed again, nor my wife . . . perhaps
whore
is more fitting.” He chuckled, and Stella chimed in as well, but both were drowned out by the livid roar that erupted from deep within William.

This time, I felt both my captors shiver in unison with me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

VERDICT

I’d never mentioned the terror of the Council chambers to William before, and I was fairly sure he’d never seen them, but he didn’t let any look of surprise or fear cross his face as we were drug down the multitude of stairs descending into the chambers. I would know too—I was manic looking over my shoulder every few seconds, making sure he was still behind me. The most dreadful thing of the whole encounter was my terror he’d disappear at any moment. I couldn’t let that happen, not without saying my own good-bye.

The march down the endless stairs passed with amazing speed this second time, and I was sure it had everything to do with the sentencing awaiting us below. While I wasn’t entirely certain what punishment John and the Council would dole out, I hoped for the best case scenario, and prepared myself for the worst.

As I saw it, the best case scenario would be the Council dismissing William from their Alliance and sending him back to his own, warning him to never return; and I would stay behind to become John’s Betrothed . . . or whatever he chose to call me.

Worst case scenario—and thinking about this sent scraps of glass tearing through my insides—included William and I sentenced to an eternal death, and while the horror held within this option was nearly all-consuming, I took a sliver of comfort in hoping we’d find one another again in whatever afterlife was held for us.

The faint glow of light now fully embracing us, I stepped down onto the cold, stone floor of the chamber. My feet were bare, and although nearly all of John’s estate was covered in cool marble, the dark, smooth rock below me had a unique chill.

I took a quick survey of the cavernous room that opened before us, and had a sudden attack of déjà vu (and it had nothing to do with my first meeting with the Council over a week ago). I scanned my memories, replaying images and moments that would define where this feeling of foresight came from.

 I stopped in my tracks when it was recalled. The stunning reminder invoked enough physical force in me to bring Thomas and Dante to an abrupt stop . . . for maybe a second, but it was enough to alert William.

“What is it? Are you alright?” The voice he used with me was such a stark contrast to the one that had last roared such anger.

“Quiet,” John chided from behind. “I don’t want to ask Andrew to administer another one of his
specialties.
”

I heard William snort his defiance, but not able to bear the thought of watching him take another hit like he had earlier, I tossed my head back and mouthed, “I’m fine.” I managed a smile, but he didn’t look the least bit appeased by my ruse.

I turned my head forward so he couldn’t witness the fear playing over my face as I recalled the dream that had haunted my sleep weeks ago. The dream, which seemed more of a vision now—a future insight as to what was to come. The vision where I’d seen myself dressed in a white nightgown, standing in a dark, vast room, trapped in between a high wall of flames.

It was then I knew—no matter what William said, no matter what was pleaded—it would be me who would pay the price for our love, and the relief that swept through me was like the first breath of air a drowning victim takes. I would be no more after today, but William would, and there was perfect peace in knowing this. The vision bolstered my confidence further, and as I approached the emotionless faces of the assembled Councilmen, I met their stares with a confrontational stare of my own.

A smile played at the edge of Draco’s lips when he saw the determination in my face. “Imagine seeing you here again so soon, Miss Dawson.” Draco shattered the silence. “And under such deplorable conditions.”

Thomas and Dante came to a stop, me with them, several yards in front of the council table.

“Yes, imagine that, Draco,” I fired back. “I just couldn’t stay away.”

Andrew and the other nameless guard stopped beside us, Stella’s hand still glued to William’s shoulder, and John marched into the empty space between the accused and their judges.

“Bryn knew nothing of my work here, Draco,” William said, cutting through several mumbled conversations. “And there were no inappropriate encounters that we shared, as John will no doubt try to convince you of. This can be proven by a mere review of the color of both our eyes.”

John exhaled sharply, looking as if ready to interject, but Draco raised his hand to stop him.

“What you say may be true regarding Bryn being unaware of your treachery here for the past ten years, but your behavior—whether fully consummated or not—cannot be argued as being anything but inappropriate. Neither of you had a right to be together as you were, and Bryn being formally Betrothed to John last night make your actions this morning entirely unacceptable.”