“Keep your eyes on them, okay?” I replied, stepping into the Bronco. “He’s got too much of Patrick in him.” I eyed the Mustang with parental warning.
“Will do,” Joseph said with mock authority. “We’ll be sure to protect your Camaro’s virtue if you promise you’ll protect my brother’s.” Joseph’s smile curled devilishly at the corners.
Cora snickered and elbowed her husband, as William rolled his eyes and shut the door behind me, and we set out to save Paul Lowe’s life.
The former gray clouded start to the morning had faded, and blue skies graced the Oregon sky. I had my hand hanging out the window, soaking in the sunlight saturated by the sticky ocean mist. William and I hadn’t said much since leaving his family a half hour ago—neither one of us wanting to breech the topic of Nathanial’s odd behavior. My guess was that he had some insight as to why Nathaniel had acted so oddly, but I wasn’t going to push him to tell me—I knew he would when he felt the time was right. “How are you planning on finding Paul?” William asked, breaking the silence. “You know you can’t go marching around the campus looking for him—”
“I know that,” I broke in, pleased I was a few steps ahead of him for once. “I had Cora make an anonymous call to him this morning. She told him she had some information regarding my whereabouts, and to be at a diner downtown at two o’clock today.” I smiled, waiting for the impressed look to come across his face.
“You called him?” he questioned, his expression guarded.
“No, Cora called him.” I stopped, understanding the reason for his question. “I had his number.” I shrugged, trying to sound casual about it.
He was obviously a little put out—even jealous perhaps—that I had Paul’s number, but there was no reason for William’s jealously. No reason at all. Paul held about as much interest to me as any other human being that walked the earth. Basically, there were only two kinds of people now—William, and everyone else. By definition, Paul fit into this everyone else category.
“He gave it to me when I first moved into the dorm. He knew I was new and wanted to be nice, I think.” I felt ridiculous explaining this after everything, but then I remembered how bitterly jealous I’d been when Patrick mentioned the Council had selected several women throughout the years to be United with William, and empathy created understanding.
He didn’t look fully appeased with my answer, but his eyes returned to their normal openness. “Patrick talked with me this morning after you two came back from your walk. He told me what he explained to you.”
I watched his face, looking for any signs of distress. There were none showing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to tell you about my Mortal life and the events leading up to our Immortalization. Those brothers of mine mean well, but they’re always trying to protect me from anything painful. It’s rather irritating,” he admitted with a half smile.
“I want you to know if you ever have any further questions on the topic—despite what Patrick would have you believe—I am plenty strong enough to talk with you about this part of my past.”
He closed his eyes for one moment, but I’d noticed the pain that had punched its way to the surface. When he reopened them, it was already gone. “They have no idea how strong I am . . . what I can endure,” he said, turning his head to me. “Do you promise you’ll never be afraid to ask me anything—anything at all?”
I gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I promise,” I vowed, while I leaned towards him and kissed the neck area just below his ear. “I know how strong you are and how much pain you’ve been through, but I won’t deny that I’m just like one of them. I’d do anything to protect you from more pain as well.”
“I know you would,” he said, sounding grave. “And because of that, I fear you doing something for me that could put you in harm’s way.” Lifting our intertwined hands up, he kissed mine. “But that means you have to understand and accept that I would do the same for you.”
I just nodded and basked in the after-burn of his words.
We pulled into Corvallis a little past one-thirty, and had no trouble finding the diner. I’d selected this location because it was public enough Paul couldn’t attempt anything crazy, and I knew by 2pm the diner would be nearly empty; the lunch diners long gone, and it too early for the senior citizens (who adhered to an absurdly early eating schedule) to arrive for dinner. He parked into a diagonal parking space a block down from the diner. He looked nervous, and I felt nervous, but I tried not to show it. “William.” I removed my seatbelt so I could look at him straight on. “I need you to stay here and wait for me.” Before he could object, I grabbed his hands in mine and continued, “Paul will recognize you and he isn’t particularly”—I bit my lip and searched for the right word—“fond of you.”
William’s face blazed. “I’ll bet he isn’t, but I’m not letting you go in there alone.” His jaw clenched and the words came out muffled. “Something could happen to you before I could get to you. I won’t allow it.”
I shot him a challenging look. “You won’t allow it?”
His face softened minutely when he spared me an apologetic smile. “I don’t want to sound like a dictator, but you have to be reasonable. There’s no telling what this Paul character”—his voice grew fiercer, while I concentrated on not smiling—“will do when he sees you after believing you were either dead or missing this past week, and there’s no way he’s going to let you out of there once you’re done telling your story of lies to him. No man could ever do that with the woman he loved.”
“Wait!” I held my hand up, my eyes bugging out. “You think Paul loves me?” Now this was too much—the smile burst through.
William glared as harshly as one could at the object of their affection. “I know he does,” he seethed, and from his intensity, I almost believed him. “Why do you think he’s gone to such extremes to find you?”
I contemplated that for a moment, thinking as well of the extremes William had gone through to find me, and while Paul’s efforts didn’t even register next to William’s centuries of devotions, they were still significant.
When I remained contemplative, William broke through, his tone flat. “He’s inside—in the far back booth beside the window facing the street.”
I’d expected the jealousy to return in his voice when he saw Paul, but I couldn’t detect any. He pulled me into a tight embrace before leaning back and grabbing my face between his hands. “You promise me, Bryn, that if I let you go in there alone,” he said, anxiety dancing across his eyes. “You will be out in less than thirty minutes.”
I nodded my head in agreement, surprised by how quickly he’d relented. Probably, because he knew I was right. Paul was not a fan of William’s, and his presence would only exacerbate a situation that was nearly impossible already.
“I’m not finished yet,” he informed me sharply when I reached back to open the door. “Can you swear to me that Paul Lowe will not hurt you—that he’ll not place a hand on you?” His voice was fierce, matching the emotion in his eyes.
I hesitated before I replied, not wanting to answer so quickly he thought I was merely appeasing him, but I was positive Paul would never hurt me intentionally. He was a good person after all; such a good person he’d assembled search parties to look for me when he’d not been convinced of my feigned death. Why would William feel so uneasy that Paul could hurt me in any way?
“I promise you.” I smiled at him reassuringly. “And I’ll be in and out in less than thirty minutes.”
“Go, then. I’ll be close by.” He grabbed me strongly to him again and embraced me, and then he let me go, just as sharply. His face was expressionless as I reached for the handle and swung the door open.
“Thirty minutes,” he reminded with one last fleeting look, and then his eyes charged ahead to where I could make out Paul in the window seat William identified.
I shut the door without another word and walked towards the diner. I was relieved when I pushed through the shiny chrome door and found the black and white tiled café— known for its one hundred different flavors of malts and half pound cheese-burgers—nearly empty.
My eyes searched through the diner, pretending I had no idea where the person I was meeting sat. My eyes moved nonchalantly to the string of booths along the window, making their way to the last one where I found Paul staring back at me.
His normally tanned complexion was ashen white, his eyes were wide with shock, and his hands were pressed flat into the laminate table. I shot him a quick smile, and before the hostess could greet me, I walked towards him as fast as I thought prudent. I’d been remiss in factoring in his likely state of surprise, and prayed he wouldn’t faint, scream, convulse, or any one of the other reactions appropriate given the situation.
“Bryn,” he mouthed, looking bewildered. He slid out from the shiny red booth as I approached. There were sweat marks where his hands had been planted over the laminate table.
“Is it really you?” he asked with astonishment once I was standing in front of him. Slivers of his tan complexion were starting to show through the whiteness now, and his face was forming into showings of elation.
I smiled shrewdly. “It’s me.”
“I knew it!” Paul exclaimed. He threw his arms around me, drawing me into a hug that nearly took my breath away. I patted his back, unable to fully join in his excitement of the reunion. His hold didn’t feel like it would come to an end anytime soon.
“Need . . . oxygen . . . Paul.” I tapped at his shoulder, attempting to sound as out of breath as my Immortal body was able.
“Oh, sorry.” He released me after one more tight squeeze. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the bench seat across from his.
I resisted the temptation to take a look at the occupant in the vintage Bronco a block down. I convinced myself that I’d only find a seething face glaring at Paul from the extra long embrace he’d just forced on me. I wished Paul would have picked a table in the back where William wouldn’t be tortured having to watch every play-by-play of our meeting.
Paul slid into his seat swiftly. The confident smile normally gracing his lips was replaced by one of pure exhilaration. “Wow, you look great,” he complimented. “Different, somehow, but still great.” His eyes scrutinized my face, as if trying to identify the change.
I’d been careless by not factoring in the impressive eye color change. “I got contacts,” I lied, sliding my eyes to the side so he couldn’t see the lie within them.
“Oh yeah, I like them. That’s not it though,” he continued, his eyes narrowing even more on my face. His head tilted to the side. “It’s something else . . . you’re glowing.” He settled on.