Stella must have left, for I heard the door shut, but even in all her goddess-like beauty, she was no match for the man before me when he held me with his stare.
He cleared his throat. “Are you hungry?”
Simple enough question, and in the past, whenever anyone had ever asked me the same thing, it had been a simple enough answer of yes or no. However, William’s inquiry unsettled me so much I couldn’t respond immediately.
I hadn’t eaten a single morsel, or drank a drop of anything since awakening two days ago. Odd at the very least, but what was even more unnerving, was that I hadn’t even craved either one. I should have been famished or parched beyond repair, but I wasn’t. I didn’t feel the need to eat or drink anything. I felt fine—perfectly sustained.
“Should I be?” I questioned, hoping he would be able to explain yet another Immortal phenomenon.
He tried to keep his lips pulled tight, but his forehead was lined with his amusement. “Well no, not necessarily, but perhaps you’d humor me.” His attempt at concealing the smile was faltering. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain this too.”
I sighed, and relented. “Alright . . . let’s eat.”
“Would you like some?” he asked, reaching for the fruit in the crystal bowl I was eyeing. I looked up at him apprehensively.
“Of course, let me explain how this all works,” he said with understanding. He folded his hands and rested them on the table. “You’re wondering why you haven’t had a single pang of hunger or thirsted for a sip of water after several days now, right?”
I bobbed my head.
He chuckled. “It’s remarkable you know—how well you’ve done so far? You’ve remained so calm and taken everything so well. I’m starting to worry you’re still in a state of shock.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t able to explain how I’d come to so easily accept I was no longer a Mortal, and had entered this life of Immortality, and everything that came with it. Maybe it was because I’d never belonged in my Mortal life. “Like I’ve said, I trust you. I’ll always believe whatever you tell me.” I leaned forward and winked at him. “No matter how insane it sounds.”
He shook his head. “You astound me . . . in the best kind of way,” he qualified after I raised my eyebrows.
The affection covering every plane of his face overwhelmed me, so I diverted my eyes to the landscape surrounding us. The patio had a stunning view of the rolling hills of the estate’s vineyard, where John’s famous Pinot Noir grapes were harvested into his infamous wine. There was a light breeze infused with the aroma of sweet grasses that played with the corner of the tablecloth.
A stronger gust blew, and, unconsciously and with startling speed, I thrust my arm out and grabbed the corner before it gusted into a bowl of strawberry preserves. I’d moved faster than the wind, quite literally. I dropped the linen tablecloth and withdrew my hand back to my lap, smiling at the impressed looking man beside me.
Clapping arose from behind.
“Very good, Bryn,” someone announced, followed by a genteel laugh that rolled like thunder over a wheat field. “It appears someone’s made an exceptionally fast transformation.” The clapping tapered off.
John came around the table and stood behind one of the empty glider chairs next to me. “May I?” he asked, looking at me, but William answered.
“Please do, although we were just wrapping up.” William responded, readying himself to stand up.
John purposefully eyed the untouched dinner set before us, and raised his eyebrows. “Not in the mood for my second favorite Indulgence, Bryn?” He reached for a glistening red apple at the top of a tower of fruit, and ran his fingers over its speckled, crimson skin. He selected the other seat beside me, and situated himself in it.
I shook my head in reply, and removed my gaze from his hands that continued to smooth over the apple. There was something threatening in the way his fingers glided over the fruit, and with the accompaniment of the smile on his lips, I was reminded just why William wanted John as far away from me as possible.
As if sensing my unease, William interrupted the awkward silence. “Actually, I was just talking with Bryn about the Indulgences. We really should be getting back to the library so we can finish up our lesson on the topic.”
“Oh, really?” John appeared pleased by this, tossing the apple between his hands.
“Where have I come into the tutorial?”
“Actually . . .”—William stalled, looking regretful—“at the very beginning,” he answered, pursing his lips together.
“Is that a fact?” John looked thoroughly pleased now. “We are very privileged, Bryn, but the gift of Immortality demands much. It requires a superior level of knowledge, power, and devotion. Being young to this life and only seeing a small piece of the puzzle, you cannot fully understand the magnitude of the life you are now living. You are called to a higher purpose in this life, and expected to fulfill this purpose.” John’s unyielding eyes made me squirm in my chair.
“For our devotion to our calling, we are granted certain Indulgences to ease an eternity of dedication.” He tossed the apple high, and with lightening speed, he grabbed a paring knife across the table and stabbed the apple as it fell.
I flinched, and William tensed beside me. John smiled at me, arrogance written across his face. “You see”—he grasped the knife’s handle and ripped it from the interior of the apple; juice burst from the white flesh—“food is an Indulgence, as is drink, sleep, and a couple other pleasures which can be discussed at a later time.” If John’s tone had not given away his innuendo, his expression left nothing to question.
William’s hands were gripping the wicker arms of his chair with such force I heard several of the strands snap.
John cut a piece of the apple and removed it with the tip of the knife. “In the Mortal life, food could have been called an indulgence for some, but it was more a sadistic addiction of gluttonous proportions. Mortals over consume—not because of the intricate flavors and sensuous appeal—but as either a form of self-medication or punishment.” He moved the piece of apple on the tip of the knife to my mouth. “For us, food takes on a whole new meaning. You’ve already reviewed the heightened senses brought on by Immortality with Professor Winters, but have you tasted heightened senses?”
I opened my mouth tentatively, and allowed him to place the speared apple slice on the tip of my tongue. I bit down on it, and waited for John to remove the knife; all the while remaining conscious of William’s escalating unease.
The flavor of the apple played along the tip of my tongue before I began to chew it. I savored it in its entirety for awhile, astounded by the sumptuous sweetness, before I allowed myself to chew. The revelation of this small piece of apple in my mouth redefined food as I’d known it, leading me to believe I’d consumed mass quantities of cardboard and packing popcorn as a Mortal for twenty years.
I was hesitant to swallow and relinquish the luscious flavors flowing in my mouth, but aware of John and William viewing me with increasing interest, I swallowed the miracle fruit begrudgingly. I expected to be hungry for more, but found myself quite satisfied.
John’s dark blue eyes burned with envy. “How was it?”
“Amazing.” I breathed, still overwhelmed.
John clapped his hands and leaned back to recline in his chair, laying the knife down on the cutting board. “There’s nothing like the first time.”
William muttered something undistinguishable under his breath.
John wrapped his hands around the back of his head and looked thoughtful, as if debating his next move. “Has Professor Winters yet to cover the phenomenon as to why Immortals are reborn with those lovely, pale-blue eyes?”
I heard more cracking from William’s location, and wondered if any vestige of the arms of his chair would be intact by the end of this conversation. John didn’t appear to notice . . . or care.
“No, not yet,” I answered tentatively. I was eager to discover the mystery of this enigma, but not from John.
“Hmmm, that’s unfortunate. When were you planning on getting to this, William?” John smiled at the fuming man to my left, before returning his gaze back to me. “As you know, we are held to a high ethical code. We would be nothing but measly Mortals that live forever without our unwavering adherence to our rules and codes laid out by the ancients of our kind thousands of years ago. The High Council and every Allegiance’s Council’s are in place to ensure that these rules are followed—without exception—or extreme and immediate consequences are dealt out.”
I moved my eyes from the evil that dwelt in the dark blue of the man to my left, to the pureness of the pale-blue ones on my right. His eyes though, were fixed in a glare at the man across from him.
“Part of the Immortal code is that we must forsake all others, and our corresponding bodily temptations, until the Council sees it appropriate to Betroth us to another. As individuals, we’re not allowed to select a partner of our own choice to spend eternity with. The Council selects another for us—one who not only complements who we are, but our unique gift as well—and grants a Betrothal. Once an Immortal is Betrothed, it is binding. What the Council grants, no Immortal can dishonor without harsh retribution.”
My discomfort was growing due to the topic I guessed this conversation was orbiting around, so I focused my attention on the intricate patterns of the embroidery in the linen tablecloth and traced the scrolling patterns with my fingers.
“Did you ever read the Scarlett Letter, Miss Dawson?” John asked.
I swallowed, hoping to suppress my distress. “I did.”
“The pale-blue color which we Immortals are born with is our own kind of Scarlett Letter, if you will . . .”
William tensed, and I noticed from the corner of my eye that his hands had balled into fists.
“Since purity is a requirement, non-negotiable in the Immortal Code and only to be given to the one you are one day United with, the eyes serve as a convenient means of an infallibly accurate lie detector. Once an Immortal is United with another intimately, the pale-blue is replaced by a dark sapphire blue, informing everyone of their . . . enlightened status.” John chuckled, and his dark eyes gleamed, enlightening me of his enlightened status.
“Of course, if someone is United there is no problem with the new color, but if the color is changed without a Union, the highest punishment allowed by the High Council is enforced—no exceptions. As Immortals, we don’t give into our physical urges as willingly and carelessly as Mortals, and, as you can imagine from the overwhelming pleasure of a piece of apple in your mouth, the increased temptation of other Indulgences as well.” John leaned in closer, until I could feel his breath breaking over my face. “The pleasure we Immortals consciously forgo until we are granted a Union is one of the many distinguishing virtues that sets us above Mortals.”
John placed his hand over the one of mine that was still absently fingering the tablecloth. My skin crawled underneath his hand, screaming a string of silent profanities. My eyes narrowed at the unwelcome hand on mine, and I attempted to swallow the hatred that was rising from deep within—it didn’t work.