I hurried up the staircase, leaping over the fifth and sixth steps which were rotten away—from the looks of it, it had been decades ago—ignoring the wall running along the staircase decorated with packages of prophylactics thumb-tacked, nailed, stapled, and taped to it. My neighbors might have been shady and not passed a background check if one was required to live here, but at least they were generous and condoned safe sex.
I opened my door, never having worried about locking it because—let’s face it—I didn’t have anything worth stealing and I could hold my own if an intruder was crazy enough to enter a place like this looking for something valuable.
The door creaked, groaned, then screamed open. I wanted to curse at it for making such a racket, but I knew it would be the last audible response I’d be given for awhile, at least until my shift started tonight. I could feel the memories avalanching their way back into my mind, the noise, smells, and distractions of the Rue St. Jersey no longer present. I bee-lined for the air-mattress in the corner, hoping I’d be able to find sleep before the memories took me to a point where sleep was not attainable. I closed my eyes and began to hum, hoping it would occupy my mind just enough.
I shrugged out of my jacket, letting it fall to the floor.
“Enjoying the night life Paris has to offer?”
I spun around, striking a defensive stance.
A shadow stepped out of the darkness in the bathroom. “Miss Dawson.” He stepped into the light casting dawn into my room and bowed his head. I recognized him immediately. Hector—a council member serving with Charles, a country back and a lifetime ago. William told me he’d once been a great gladiator back in the Roman times and had he not been in the modern single-button suit, he looked just as I’d imagined a gladiator would. Short, stocky, cleft-chin, and eyes that had partaken in countless deaths.
“How did you find me? Why are you here?” I whispered, my panic making my voice come out in gasps. My thoughts took a dark turn. “Is William alright?”
He crossed his arms, resting his back on the wall behind him. “Charles found you, I simply got on the plane and cab to get here,” he said, eyeing my apartment like he wished he could have been anywhere but “here.” “I’m here to remind you of something,” he continued, counting off my questions on his fingers, before staring through me. “And I believe you lost your privilege of knowing how William is the day you walked away.”
His words penetrated my shell of anesthesia, stabbing my heart with a blunt knife. He was right, though. I’d lost the right to say his name aloud—let alone know how he was doing—the day I’d brought him a within a foot of death.
“Charles knows where I am?” I asked, looking out the window. I should have known he would, with his ability to locate any Immortal in the world, but the hate I’d seen in his eyes in the clearing had said he never cared to see me again, let alone keep tabs on me.
“Of course he does,” Hector answered. “Do you really think a Chancellor would let an Immortal who was capable of what you are—alone in the world—off his radar?”
It didn’t seem like he expected an answer from me, so I asked another question “What are you here to remind me of?”
There could be about a hundred things I suppose, but I wasn’t sure which one was the most offensive in their eyes at this juncture.
“You made quite a scene at that lovely place you are gainfully employed at.” He smiled, although it was not meant to be friendly.
“You heard about that already?” Twelve hours hadn’t passed yet. William had been right when he said Immortals were everywhere.
“Did you really assume we wouldn’t? Or that we’d do nothing?”
To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about it yet.
He continued as my silence dragged on, perhaps not interested in my responses or excuses “May I remind you that being on your own is a luxury we’ve turned a blind eye on? After everything that happened”—his eyes held the reminders of the past—“we felt it would be best for you to be on your own, but after your public display of bone-crushing strength”—he smiled, this one for real—“we felt the need to intervene.”
“It appears the Council’s idea of intervening is breaking into a woman’s apartment and scaring the dickens out of her.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Consider your message delivered,” I said, trying not to think about the home he’d be returning to. “I know the importance of our anonymity. It won’t happen again.”
He studied me until he looked convinced. “One more thing. You’ll have to complete your strength training, as well as go through talent training.”
“How’s that going to happen when the Alliance I’m a member of is half a world away? Are you expecting me to move back?” I wasn’t trying to be difficult; I just didn’t understand.
“And leave all this?” His voice was sarcastic as his eyes circled my apartment.
I crossed my arms and smirked in response.
“No need to change your present address. Given your strength instructor just so happens to be a Teleporter, Patrick will be able to complete both phases of your training without causing too much inconvenience to either of you.”
Obviously he hadn’t heard about Patrick’s and my last conversation and how he’d said he never wanted to see me again. I don’t think Patrick could have been any more inconvenienced had he been blindfolded and had his arms tied behind his back for the rest of eternity.