Eternal Eden (50 page)

“I don’t deny I’ve made many mistakes and been quite irresponsible with my Indulgences when it comes to having been with Bryn, but I was the pursuer. She is barely a month old to this life, and does not have a full sense of the significance and importance in adhering to the Immortal way.” William didn’t falter in his response, demonstrating how carefully he’d planned his defense of me.

He looked at me with apology in his eyes. “It was, and is nothing more than a random fling. She will have forgotten me as easily as I her, soon after I am gone. There is no need to punish her as well.”

The words cut me superficially, for I knew the blatancy of the lies in them, and he was forgiven the moment he spoke the blasphemous words. He’d spoken them for no other reason than to protect me from something he could not bear. I remained silent and strong beside him, knowing no matter how much he pled, it was me, and not him who would be punished.

“Thank you, William—you’ve made your statement. I’d like to hear John’s accusations now.” Draco said, continuing to run the trial. He extended his hand to John, summoning the forthcoming prosecution.

Looking like a seasoned attorney, John turned to the six Council members before him. “As I relayed to you all early this morning, I stumbled across an intriguing piece of information late last night.”

Turning to William, John continued, “Does the name Evie Longfellow conjure up any memories, Mr. Hayward?”

William bristled when he heard the name, but regained his composure quickly. “Yes, I knew Evie awhile back. I haven’t seen her in a long time, though,” he finished, sounding like he was putting his words together carefully.

“Had you heard she converted to my Alliance of Inheritors a couple decades ago?”

“I heard of her conversion, but had not heard to whose Alliance she’d joined.
Again
, I barely knew her,” William emphasized.

“Did you happen to notice her here last night?” John asked, with level innocence.

William paused infinitesimally. “No, I didn’t. She was here?”

John chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Yes, she was. I’m most surprised you didn’t notice her, but perhaps you were a little on edge given the impending Betrothal of your . . .
fling
girl.”

John turned to me. “Did William ever tell you about his relationship with Evie?”

Now it was my turn to bristle. “Not that I can recall,” I replied coolly, careful to keep signs of jealousy at bay.

John looked pleased by my response, obviously feeling the need to enlighten me. “Evie and William were set to be Betrothed—”

“There was never a formal Betrothal,” William replied venomously.

So this had been one of the women Patrick told me about that day on the beach. One of the women William politely refused in his search for me. Whatever hints of jealousy had taken root, withered immediately.

“You said, she said . . .”—John waved his hand dismissively—“I suppose the point of my bringing it up is that I believe she still bears you a bit of ill-will from your rejection. When she asked me what the most illustrious, golden-boy of the Hayward brothers was doing with my Alliance, I simply couldn’t resist the temptation”—John spun around to face William, a wildness burning in his eyes—“to ask her what the HELL she was talking about!”

William closed his eyes and shook his head, now understanding where, and from whom, our fates had been sealed.

“I told her she must have the wrong man, for my William Winters had been with me for over ten years. I’d comforted him when he’d wandered to my estate, confused as to what had happened. I taught him when he was ignorant to the stringent ways of the Immortal life. I promoted him when his promise and gifts stood far and above others in my Alliance.” John’s voice filled every inch of the cavernous room. “I TRUSTED YOU!” He lunged in front of William, screaming an inch from his face, but William did not falter or break John’s hate-filled stare.

John turned back toward the Council table and placed one hand in his jacket, recomposed. “But Evie was absolutely certain my William and her William were one in the same. So sure in fact, she pulled an aged photo from the interior of her wallet.”

John flashed a smile at me, and lowered his voice to make it seem as if talking to me privately. “I think she still has a little thing for your William, my dear,” he sneered with a wink, and then was business-like again.

“Low and behold, that photo was all the convincing I needed. It had to be one hundred years old and was worn, cracked and peeling from the passage of time, but there was no mistaking the face and eyes looking back at me from that photo. That rough, sort of entitled look about your face and the smug confidence in your eyes . . . I knew then I’d been betrayed.” John turned ceremoniously to the two on trial, and the five holding us captive, his stance wide and his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Of course, the Hayward name carries a great deal of clout in the Guardian world, and is more known
notoriously
in ours. With your father being the Chancellor of your Council, there was no mistaking why you’d been sent here—to drudge up as much information on our operation as possible and send it back to your pacifist, bleeding-heart, bunch of Guardians that are loosing this battle because they refuse to get their hands dirty,” John spoke so coolly, I almost wished his raging tirade back.

 “If it’s any consolation to you, I believe Evie felt a twinge of guilt when she realized I had no idea of your calculating treachery. She left rather quickly after that . . .” John’s fingers stoked over his chin.

“Thank you, John,” Draco cut in. “You’ve made your account of the espionage of William Hayward. What is your account of William and Bryn’s illicit behavior?”

A few pairs of eyebrows raised in obvious interest at this turn in the questioning.

John clucked his tongue as an old woman would when showing her disdain for something. “There was the compromising situation we found them in this morning of course, but there’d been something nagging me from the first time I had to send Ben and Troy to retrieve William from compromising one of our most stringent codes.” John stared pointedly at William. “Immortals shall not intermingle with Mortals,” he recited, as if William had never heard it before.

“Nothing seemed to add up at first—why our social outcast professor would go to such lengths to surround himself with this measly Mortal.” His hand gestured towards me. “And then risk his very own life to save her.” John said formally, looking at me if I was barely worthy of the space I took up in this dank cave.

“Once she was Immortalized and they were both here at the estate, I couldn’t help but notice how overly protective he was around her—how he watched her every move, and how I felt the tension radiating from him whenever I came near her. He attempted to keep a blasé front about the whole thing, but there was no mistaking he had some feelings for our Miss. Dawson. I wrote it off as being some silly crush . . . I mean how could any warm-blooded male not have a partial fixation on my lovely Bryn?”

Stella hissed her disapproval, while I rolled my eyes. John was as adept at exaggeration as he was at making my skin crawl.

“My suspicions were confirmed this morning, although I’d severely underestimated their
equal
desire
for one another.” John’s eyes narrowed on me.

Draco’s voice cut in again, “Are there any other allegations you wish to make against Miss Dawson or Mr. Hayward?”

 “I’ll spare everyone the rest of the details as the cruxes of my allegations are stated,” John answered.

Draco nodded. “Now that we’ve heard your allegations, what punishment do you request?”

Despite the inner peace I’d found realizing this day would end in my death and not his, my stomach still lurched when the nearness of the occasion was upon me. I waited for the damning words to come from John’s mouth, and the sequential approval from the Council.

“Given the severity of their actions, and the penalty our code calls for . . . I request the immediate deaths of Mr. William Hayward—”

My eyes flew frantically to William, just in time to see him heave a sigh of discernable relief. I felt my world ending—John had said the wrong name. I was so sure of my vision and what it had foretold—William lived and I died.

“And Miss Bryn Dawson,” John concluded.

William’s face flashed to me, filled with the same terror that had been mine when I’d heard his name called out in request for death.

He bellowed his protest, “This is absurd!” William addressed the Council directly. “I’ve given you all my sworn statement that Bryn is innocent on all accounts. The request John has made is ludicrous given her innocence. We all know our ways are stringent—no matter what Immortal following you adhere to—but they are not corrupt, nor merciless.” William’s voice turned pleading, and desperation was obvious on his face. “Even as large and powerful as your Alliance is here, if you rule to honor the request to end Bryn Dawson’s life, you will unite other Alliances on
both
sides to come against you.”

William seemed to have hit a weak spot in their armor. I saw every member of the Council (John excluded) frown in acknowledgement, but they remained quiet.

“This is not right!” William screamed with conviction. I saw Stella cover her ears, and perhaps I would have too if my arms weren’t constrained, and it wasn’t the voice of my beloved ringing off my eardrums.

Draco held up his hand towards William, requesting his silence. “We’ve heard both sides of this account, and they are both strong enough to require some serious deliberation.”

Draco turned his head to John. “Please excuse us while we deliberate. We will summon you back when we’ve made our decision.”

John bowed his head and turned, looking expectantly at the captors holding firmly to William and me, before walking towards the entry-like room that comes off the stairway leading into the vast Council chamber room. I was turned around and pushed forward, William closely behind me, as we followed John.

In the holding room, while our fates were being decided, John paced in between the two of us. Our own respective jailers kept us on opposite sides of the room, facing into the corner; an obvious attempt to keep us from communicating. Several minutes passed silently, where I focused on nothing but the steady breathing of the man in the opposite corner. 

William’s voice filled the stagnant, empty space. “I’m so sorry, Bryn. If I could go back, I’d change it all—I’d erase myself from your life—”

“That’s quite enough, Mr. Hayward,” John commanded. “Your statement has been heard, and I for one, would be quite content to never hear your pitiful voice again.”

“I
wouldn’t
change a thing,” I whispered through the airways of my tightened throat. I felt the grips tighten over my upper arms in warning.

 The next sound I heard was grotesquely familiar, followed by the sound of air rushing from his lungs. I spun my head away from the corner I was staring into to see what had happened. He was bent over slightly, one of his guards at his side with the balled up fist that had initiated the blow causing the sickening sound.

“Stop it!” I screamed, wriggling against my captors. “William?” The struggling wasn’t getting me anywhere.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He sounded already recovered, and when I managed another look over my shoulder, he was standing just as solidly as if nothing had happened.

“If I hear so much as another disgruntled sigh from either one of you, I’ll order a blow be delivered to Bryn instead.” Of course, John would arrow in on William’s weak spot. I was just as capable of recovering as he was (perhaps not as quickly), but I knew William would utter nothing else with this ultimatum on the table.

“We’re ready,” a voice called out from the chambers, its raspy origins indicative of Julius. 

John motioned us forward, and he followed behind. William urged his party in front of mine, resolve scorching in his eyes. As we walked, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear that the certainty I’d had of my vision, had perhaps been misplaced.

Instead of symbolizing my death, was the circle of flames that held me within them an indicator of what my future would be after this fateful day and the verdict read from the Council? A lifeless, pitifully small void that kept me encapsulated in the agony of my loss, the flames jailing me, keeping me separated from him.

I urged these thoughts from my mind. I wouldn’t allow these doubts to take seed and grow roots, crippling my bustling courage. He would not die today . . . or any day forward.

My captors lurched me to a stop with more force than necessary in front of the Councilmen. I heard William growl his disapproval at the men on either side of me.

John’s footsteps could still be heard following behind us, when William’s last ditch plea commenced, “I know the Council’s decision has been made, and with all due respect, I would like to make one final appeal to you.” His face cut through all the carefully constructed pretenses he’d managed to this point, allowing the sincerity of his words to ring. “I understand the necessity for punishment to be dealt in such a case as this, and you must realize my death carries a much greater message and warning to my fellow Guardians. We all know that Bryn’s death is superfluous and merely requested due to the injured ego of one man.”

His head turned to me, still emotion-filled with what appeared to be a plea for my forgiveness. “My life is void as soon as you command it, Gentlemen. My only request is that I have your assurances Bryn leaves here today unharmed.”