Home > Fallen Eden (Eden Trilogy #2)(34)

Fallen Eden (Eden Trilogy #2)(34)
Author: Nicole Williams

I flipped over and army crawled away from him, needing a football field length of distance in case I couldn’t control myself from slapping him when I finally got these darn restraints off.

“She’s aliiiiiiive!” Patrick’s voice burst through the trees, his arm beckoning the sky in a Mary Shelly kind of way. He jogged towards me, still shirtless and nearly pantless. It looked like he’d been attacked by a rabid pack of werewolves. “Hey, Immortal handcuffs, sweet. I haven’t seen any of this stuff since we high-tailed it out of Newburg.”

I rolled over and sat up, not forgetting to keep my glare aimed at Paul where he still crouched shock-faced a way’s back. “You know how to get them off?”

“I might,” he said, penning his index finger over his chin. “But what are you going to give me in exchange?”

Why did I find myself surrounding by two more-boys-than-men, acting like they’d just fought to win a potato-sack race? This was why women were going to rule the world . . . by the looks of it, one day very soon.

“What do you want?” I asked, trying to control my voice.

He popped into a crouch beside me, sliding his neck side-to-side. “What you got to give . . .”—his eyebrows danced and he wet his lips—“that I want?”

I shoved him onto his backside before coming to a stand. I towered over him, the constraints over my wrists bursting through my skin again from the involuntary flexing of my muscles. “Trust me, you don’t want to go there with me right now. Ask him,” I hollered down where Paul was, “if you’d like further explanation.”

“My sense of teasing is completely lost on you,” Patrick said, hoisting himself back up. “It’s a shame, too. Most people tell me my sense of humor is my best quality, only outdone by my otherworldly good looks.”

“I’m surrounded by morons,” I muttered, making certain both the accused in question could hear me, before I began hopping away from them. I was positive I looked like a psychotic Easter bunny terrorizing the woods.

“Bryn?” a deep voice said, breaking into an amused chuckle.

“Hey, Hector,” I said, ceasing my hopping. Had I seen him at the grocery store, I would have never guessed he’d just battled an army of Immortals that outnumbered him six to one. There was barely a smudge of dirt to be found on him. “I know how ridiculous I look,” I offered preemptively, “but can you please just get these things off of me?” I held my wrists out for him.

“I think for the first time in your case,”—he reached around into his back pocket—“I’ve got something I can fix easily for you.” He pulled out a silver set of nail clippers . . . not exactly what I’d been expecting. A machete, chain-saw, and the jaws-of-life were more what I had in mind.

“This stuff if the toughest weak material in the free world.” He clipped the wire around my wrists first; it tangled free instantly. He’d just freed my ankles when the moron twins showed up.

“So you made it out alive,” Hector said, standing. “Did everyone else?” he asked it so evenly I knew he wasn’t just referring to Paul and Patrick—he was wondering it I’d offed any of John’s men.

“I left everyone alive,” I said darkly. “But I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”

“It’s a good thing. Trust me,” he said immediately. “Death might be the end of it for the person that passes, but it haunts the one who brought it on forever.” His face went blank—transported to another time, I guessed—a time when death had been his life.

“You caught our runaway bunny,” Patrick hollered, smirking at me as he wound through the trees.

“Bite me,” I said, flashing my freed wrists. “Next time you find yourself handcuffed, here’s a tip, don’t come looking for my help.”

He tilted a mischievous brow that was so masterful it made me long for William. “What if you’re the one doing the handcuffing?”

“You remember that extended vacation I mentioned,” Hector interjected, as I worked at keeping my tongue between my teeth. “I’m still on it.”

I extended my appreciation to Hector with my eyes. “Where’s everyone? Are they alright?” I looked over Hector’s shoulder absently.

“Everyone’s fine. They’re cleaning up the mess. Thankfully, smoldering ashes and uprooted trees clean up easier than bodies.”

I swallowed. “Everyone’s back there?” I asked, trying not to sound hopeful.

Hector got my gist. “I passed William on my way here and he had an urgent mission he had to get back to,” he said, not able to look me in the eyes.

“I wasn’t aware we were calling getting back to a girl a mission now,” Patrick said, “but hey, works for me. I need to get me more missions like that.”

Hector shot Patrick a look, one of warning or confusion, I wasn’t sure, but it did wipe the smile from his mouth.

“I’ll go help,” I said, my mind flashing back to William’s expression when he’d seen Paul and me. I glanced up at the night sky and in the canvas of a star clustered night, one flashed at me, as bright and beckoning as the sunrise.

Hector gripped my arm. “I’m afraid you’re on the first plane out of here,” he commanded, as if he was delivering an edict at the seat of the Council table. “John’s ego doesn’t tolerate defeat, so we can expect them back. Soon. And if you thought they brought an army this time, just wait.” His eyes drifted behind me where I could hear Paul making his way towards us. His steps were hesitant—so he wasn’t completely oblivious. “And the only way we can protect you is from Montana where even someone as arrogant as John would think twice about ordering an attack.”

Patrick cleared his throat. “Yeah, that theory didn’t work out so well for Bryn and me a while back.”

Hector grinned without emotion. “We weren’t expecting them then. We are now. The element of surprise is gone. John may be brazen, but he isn’t stupid.” He looked at me with feigned reassurance. “You’ll be safe.”

“Thanks for those warm fuzzies,” I said, “but I don’t really care a whole lot about my safety right now. You’ve all risked enough for me and maybe it’s time you start thinking about your own safety. I should just hand myself over to John and we can be finished with this business.” The idea was appealing in so many ways, especially after experiencing the way William had just looked at me. Despite not knowing if it had been anger or disappointment or something in-between on his face, one thing was clear; it was utterly void of any fondness.

“I hate to make our concern for your safety seem anything but chivalrous—”

“But you’re going to.”

Hector shot a look at Patrick and continued, “But we wouldn’t put it past John to conceive of some way to extract whatever is inside of you and turn it into some bottled form of weaponry.”

“You’re saying I’d essentially be the source code for John’s own Immortal version of a weapon of mass destruction?” I’d never allowed that idea to enter my mind, but it should have. I knew John was capable of worse.

“Precisely,” Hector said, looking relieved he didn’t have to explain any further, “and I do apologize that this brings your mission of being out on your own to an end, but we cannot risk your gift potentially being manufactured to be bought and sold by the highest bidder.”

“So the possibilities are endless,” I muttered, my prior knowledge of me being able to kill anyone at the snap of a finger somehow seeming brighter given the recent revelations. “So why go through all this trouble?” I crossed my arms, attempting to sound strong. “Why doesn’t the Council just take me out of the equation? That’s the safest alternative we’ve got . . . the best alternative.”

“When do we sign the petition?” Patrick asked, silenced by either Paul or Hector’s glare.

“That’s very noble of you, but there are several reasons why that is nowhere near the best alternative.”

“I’m sure they’re not better than the reasons to end me.” It was surprisingly easy talking about my death, like discussing the barometric pressure.

“Other than death never being a solution to any problem”—I was taller than him, but Hector had an uncanny way of looking down at you no matter the height difference—“and that we are Guardians—tasked with preserving both Mortal and Immortal life—I highly doubt any of us would be left standing if we did in fact agree to kill you.”

“Oh, that,” I said, remembering what I’d done to the last Council who’d been intent on my destruction. “I’m getting a better grip on that, really, and—”

“You’re not the one I’m afraid of,” Hector said, looking at me in such a way I knew there was something I was meant to pick up on between the lines.

Patrick stepped forward abruptly. “Let’s put a kibosh on that train of thought, Hector. Anyways, we’ve got some work to do and you’re right, Bryn needs to get back to Montana . . . yesterday.”

“You’re right, explanations can be saved for later. Our first priority is getting Bryn home.” The word wrapped around me like a cozy blanket. Home, the place I never thought I’d see again, but would it still be home without William? I knew from experience after I’d returned to the house I’d grown up in after my parents had died, it wouldn’t. Home wasn’t a place, home was where those you loved were.

“Exactly,” Patrick agreed.

“That’s why you’re going to be escorting her back,” Hector said, drawing out each word.

Patrick’s expression fell. “Super. I’ve been downgraded to personal security guard. I better start stockpiling polyester suits and getting my hair done at SuperCuts now.”

“Glad to see you’re so eager for the mission. Take the other one with you.” Hector nodded at Paul, not looking pleased he was on the other side of Mortality. “We’ve got more than one mess to clean up it appears.”

“Yeah, well you can thank my brother for that one.”

Hector grinned before heading back in the direction of the chalet, or at least where it had been before it had been reduced to a pile of smoldering rubble. “It seems we’ve had a lot to ‘thank’ him for lately.”

Paul smirked at Hector’s back. “Yeah, well you know the problem with chosen ones. They get a little defiant after decades of people telling them what they can and can’t do . . .”

“Who they can and can’t love,” Hector added in the distance.

“We don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Patrick said, more to himself than Hector.

“I’m not so sure about that, old friend.” Hector’s voice carried in the breeze, oddly filling me with a hope that had depleted a continent back.

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