The Last Knight
Page 3
About fifty yards from his own suite of rooms—whose entry was marked by a medieval set of arched double doors made of solid oak—he stopped at the less elaborate but still wonderfully hand-hewn oak door that marked Jean’s assigned room.
He didn’t know what to expect. Although he had a physical description, her photo hadn’t been included in her dossier. That omission wasn’t a mistake, but a cautionary custom when files of new personnel, mortal or human, were carried from place to place. The world would find out about her soon enough. Parliament would eventually be sent her information, as the law in the UK required. From there, the news people would get it as they always did, and a public announcement would be made, listing all the recently discovered, lawfully registered immortals.
The law required that all immortals stay registered though there were rogues who’d always refused. Fortunately, she’d cooperated. Unfortunately, that meant that she only had a short time to maintain anonymity. In return for her cooperation, however, she now had a beautiful place to live, and she’d share his claviger if the girl stayed under his roof. Anna Gast would help their new immortal maintain a semblance of a normal life. After extensive training, Jean Long would likely be asked to help go after certain immortal criminals whose strength, and access to arms, made them too dangerous for members of mortal law enforcement groups to pursue. Since she’d be outed to the public, disguises might be necessary to locate and subdue criminals. These subterfuges usually worked. As far as he was concerned, this arrangement was far better than going into the world alone, and without protection of the organization.
He lifted his right hand and gently knocked.
No sound came from within the room. But then, after a long pause, the door slowly opened.
He saw the shocked expression on her face, and watched as she backed away quickly.
If Jean Long was as stupefied by his size as she appeared, he was equally stunned and surprised by her beauty.
He seriously doubted any digital transmission or hard copy photo would have done her justice. Before him stood a woman of such striking elegance that her very presence momentarily took his breath away.
Her file simple stated: five-feet-nine inches in height, brown hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and twenty-nine years of age at the time of immortal transformation. No living relatives. Cause of transformation: auto accident, both parents deceased.
What her dossier handler hadn’t added was that her height accented her slender body, now classically clad in a brown tweed jacket, crisp white blouse, and long, pencil skirt. She also wore brown leggings and lovely, round-toed leather pumps that he recognized as being of very fine quality.
Professional bearing down to the nth degree.
Her so-called ‘brown hair’, was currently pulled back but was more dark auburn with golden highlights. In the backlighting from her room, it looked glorious.
To describe her skin as pale was all wrong. She had the loveliest peaches-and- cream complexion he’d ever seen on any woman, and he’d known many. Her features were perfect, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
In that instant, he decided he loved freckles. They were so right on her. They somehow made her look much younger.
Her bright blue eyes sparkled with what he recognized as instant fear; no doubt prompted because of his size. Then, she lifted her chin slightly and licked her perfect, russet-tinted lips.
“You could only be Mr. Garrett Bloodnight. Your description, sir, doesn’t do you justice.” She swallowed hard before speaking again. “I-I understood that I wouldn’t need to present myself today, but could wait until breakfast tomorrow morning.”
Her voice, while soft, had perfect inflection. She pronounced her words as if she’d been in a highly professional public position instead of working at a seamstress’ shop in Barnsdale—another fact that her file provided.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your unpacking, Miss—”
“Jean…please,” she insisted.
“Very well,” he happily agreed. “You must call me Gart. All my friends do.” He had the impression she smiled very seldom of late, but did get a glimpse of perfect white teeth as she’d spoken. She ever-so-slightly shook her head in denial of his offer.
“I don’t believe that using your first name would be appropriate…Mr. Bloodnight.” She clasped her hands together. “As I’m here to train, you take on a role of superior. Indeed, with your experience you are far superior in the world of immortals. You’re so well known that I understand you are no longer called on to solve certain…socio political…issues. The staff at HQ has nothing but the highest respect for your service, and your current advisory efforts as far as members of the immortal population go.”
He was certain she’d rehearsed that little speech, or at least parts of it. He’d surely frightened her by coming to her room so unexpectedly, but understood now why Mrs. Gast insisted he do so.
Jean Long impressed him as being someone who would follow the law to the letter. She seemed too prim to do otherwise. As David Harrington suggested, she was having problems engaging the lifestyle of an immortal, to the point that he’d been chosen to deal with her. That, and the fact that her great grandfather was one of his best friends, made this chore difficult.
She didn’t like this situation. Not one bit. Her stunning eyes said it all. In them, he read hesitancy and even a certain amount of disbelief. Still, her overall forthright expression was meant to appear completely cooperative. He’d bet his last pound that she’d take a long, long time getting used to living forever.
He’d run into her type before. David expected him to use experience regarding acclimatizing, and to break the icy little shell being presented so professionally and deliciously now.
“Could we talk?” he softly asked.
For a split second, her unwavering gaze faltered. She looked down at the floor before returning her cold stare.
“I’m not sure what there is to say, sir. At least, not right now. Mrs. Gast said she’d devise a schedule for our training sessions, and see that I got it forthwith. Until then, I’m not sure we have much to say to one another.”
“I’m not your warden, Jean. This isn’t a jail.”
“I’ve been sent here because you knew my great grandfather. I was told that he saved your life.” She paused. “Did you ask for me to be here?”
“No, but—”
“Then, I’m here because home office believed you owed me some debt of honor? Because I’m Major James Long’s descendant?”
He took a deep breath. This woman was as sharp as a blade. Before she’d spoken that last sentence, he wasn’t sure she’d been informed of all that history. “All right. I won’t lie to you.”
“Good. I hate lying. And I’d know you weren’t telling the truth if you tried,” she claimed. “I always know when someone is prevaricating. Being immortal has nothing to do with that!”
Now he saw those blue eyes glow with pure rage though her anger was misplaced. Okay, she didn’t like being told what to do. She didn’t like being sent to Bloodnight estate, she didn’t like being an immortal. But none of that was his fault. Still, he would honor his friendship with James. He would train James’s great granddaughter whether she approved or not.
“Look…Jean…this doesn’t need to be contentious. You are what you are, through no one’s fault. I didn’t like it when it happened to me but, when I found out what good I could do, I changed my attitude. You will, too.”
“Really?”
He walked into her room.
She backed away as her eyes widened.
He left the door open since he almost felt her shaking. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one here ever will. We’re only trying to help.”
“You’ve obviously been informed that I regret my change from human status to…to what I currently am.”
“It’s called immortality. In ancient times, the circumstance in which you find yourself was referred to as Deathless. In many languages.”
“There was a concerted effort to make us seem less frightening,” he admitted.
“I’ve got news for you and your entire organization.”
“Yes?”
“It’s not working,” she angrily retorted. “Lots of normal people fear immortals. I was most certainly one of them!”
“I know what a lot of humanity thinks. But why did you fear us?”
“Most normal people think of immortals as gods. Or, at least, as acting god-like. As time goes on, you get more physically powerful, your instincts and intuition are far superior than any human capabilities, and some of you have killed. Without mercy.”
“I can only imagine your source in that regard,” he quipped. “Let me inform you, here and now, that when some immortal goes rogue, someone like me is sent to enforce laws! That’s what the organization does. That’s why all countries have some version of an organization registering immortals. Almost all of us complies with lawful mandates. Most of us don’t want any trouble. We had no choice in becoming what we are. Not anymore than you did.” He stared down at her. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Why did you fear us before becoming immortal?” he boldly asked as he moved closer.
She stood her ground. “I’ve already told you. To most of the world’s population, you’re deities. And gods can be fickle. Maybe you’ll gather and coordinate, and will decide you have no use for mere mortals any longer. Maybe normal humans will become sport for you. Maybe you’ll push humans aside or worse…make subordinates of them. They won’t be equal, but then they never were, were they?”
“Christ! You’re one of those!”
“One of what?”
“An immortal-hater! I believe that current lingo describes you as a Lifeist. That being the case, it’s poetic irony that you’re now among our ranks.” He put his hands on his hips. “How does it feel? Do you feel evil? Do you feel like killing the next normal human you see? Are you a god, Jean?”
She stepped back and sat on the edge of her massive, four-poster bed. A look of utter defeat now covered her lovely features. “I-I don’t know what I feel. Except cheated.”
“Why? Why do you feel that way?”
“I can’t have children. I’m now sterile, like all immortals. I’ll watch friends die. At least, I would if I still had any.” She shifted her gaze away. “Like most people, when an acquaintance doesn’t show up when and where they’re supposed to, friends start calling authorities. In my case, a few people found out that my parents and I had been in a car crash. They rushed to my side at the hospital. But then they cut me off entirely when they found out how fast I recovered, and that my doctors were calling the government about me.”
He suddenly felt very sorry for her.
When he’d become immortal, there were no computers. There was no internet, no social networking. He was quite certain that Jean’s former friends were told to keep their mouths shut lest they be subject to harsh laws and even imprisonment. They had no right to announce her immortality. Only POSI had that authority; the agency would do so in their own good time. That was the law. It was structured as it was to keep rogue immortals in the world from trying to kill law-abiding immortals. Rogues would love nothing more than to take the heads off those who were newly immortalized, before they could even be trained to defend themselves. All that considered, Jean’s former friends would have likely been frightened to even go near her. They undoubtedly considered her persona non grata.
“Did it ever occur to you that anyone who really loved and cared about you wouldn’t give a flaming damn about something over which you had no control? They have the right to see you after you were on the public list.”
“That’s what really hurts. The people I thought cared about me…don’t.”
He spoke slowly. “You’ll make new friends. Some immortal, others normal. The normal ones will die, you’ll feel that loss. You’ll feel it over and over. But you’ll also have the chance to carry their memories into the future when all others have forgotten them.”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that you knew my great grandfather? That I’m now an immortal? Just like the man whose life my grandfather saved?”
“No. I’ve known thousands of normal people. Many of their descendants became immortal through some mishap or another. If I hadn’t known James, you’d still be in this same situation. Now, only you can choose what to do with this chance. You’ve been given a great gift, Jean.”
“Why don’t I see it that way?”
“I think you will, in time.” He sighed and knelt in front of her. “Do you know how many people would love to be healthy forever? Some immortals aren’t created until very late in life. Though they won’t age past the point of their respective tragedies, they will live forever in perfect, if older, condition.” He paused to let that sink in. Then he carefully continued. “Do you know how many normal humans would give anything to be as lovely and young as you? Forever?”
She stared at the toes of her shoes.
“All that notwithstanding, we aren’t gods. Nobody knows why this happens, Jean. Nobody can pinpoint why one person in any disaster gains immortality, yet another person in dies. All we know is that some horrendous mishap occurs and that sudden, calamitous circumstance catapults us into immortality. Scientists cannot explain why no one younger than twenty-three has ever become what you and I now are. The circumstance seems to afflict men and women equally. With you, as with so many these days, it was a traffic crash. With others…”
“Please, tell me how you were changed? Please?” she softly asked.
Home office wouldn’t have provided that information. Some parts of his past life, as with other immortals complying with the law, were sacrosanct.
“It was WWI though we didn’t refer to it that way until many years later. I was shot in the chest and lost consciousness. I woke up in a field hospital as an immortal. I’d healed in hours after being brought in, with not even a scar to show for it.”
“How horrific,” she mumbled.
“I felt then as you feel now. I lost my friends and couldn’t understand why I survived and they didn’t. Afterward, I was feared by those who’d known me. There were people in the population who likened us to demonic entities. Some still do.” He shook his head in denial. “I’m not demonic, Jean. I’m just me. I choose to use these powers to do some good in this world. I think that, having done so, I’ve changed a few minds. That’s why the organization was founded in the UK, and why it exists in various forms throughout the rest of the world. I think I speak for many immortals when I say that, by helping in natural disasters and by putting ourselves in harm’s way when humans might be injured or killed, we can be of service. If we change what others think of our powers, that’s an unintended bonus.”
“But some immortals…they…”
“There are savages among us all, Jean. Not just immortals. Read your history. See how many people were killed between two world wars. Mankind has always had a war going somewhere.”
“My heart feels no different than it ever did. I just…”
“What?” he prompted.
“I miss my parents. I miss my life.”
“Wouldn’t they have wanted you to go on?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe you can’t have kids. But you can save somebody else’s. Hundreds or thousands of kids. Trust me, they will not hate you for it. They’ll be glad you were there. I know.”
“I never thought about it that way.”
“Give yourself a break. Give yourself some time. You don’t need to start training right away. Take a few weeks. Read. Meditate. Listen to music. Walk. Think. Just be. You’ll get through thi
s. We only want to help you.”
She smiled.
When she did, something in his chest tightened. It was like some heavy brick fell off his heart; a weight he didn’t even know he’d been carrying.
She lifted one hand and tucked a curl behind her left ear. “Could I ask another question?”
“Sure.”
“When I was told about your knowing my great grandfather, and the circumstances surrounding your friendship, no one at home office got very specific. All they’d say was that you met during WWII and he saved your life.”
“You want details?” he asked.
“Yes. Please?”
“I’ll tell you what. Take the time I suggested, to get your bearings. Make a list of all your questions. Then we’ll have a long talk about your great grandfather. He was quite a man. He was my friend.”
“All right,” she agreed.
“I’ll be working, so I won’t be able to see you until dinner tonight. But you can explore the place. You’ll find that it’s a grand spot you’ve come to.”
Without a backward glance, he left quietly but quickly.
While his words were wise, and his advice about taking time were psychologically and emotionally sound, his sudden feelings of enacted Karma were assured.
Jean Long had been an unexpected burden. Having seen her, however, everything changed.
He saw no physical resemblance to her great grandfather, but her spirit would have delineated her as James’s kin if nothing else did. She had a quick, forthright nature which was a trait he’d greatly admired in the man.
While it was true that he’d known humans whose descendants became immortal, he felt that Jean’s arrival in his life was planned. It had nothing at all to do with home office’s regulations, or David Harrington’s machinations. Her becoming immortal was no mere coincidence.
Jean had been sent to him for a reason; a reason bypassing anything having to do with chance.
He believed with all his heart that since immortals existed, angels did too. Perhaps she was metaphorically one of them.
Once he was back in his study and the door was closed, he looked up and spoke to a spirit he felt was very close.