Eternal Eden by Nicole Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

via a ray of light to save the day.
    Time to chalk up delusional to my ever-increasing list of maladies.
    “I think I understand why you took an unannounced sabbatical in the land of the lowly,” Troy said, slicking his hair back into place. “I like my girls spirited too, and where we come from that’s hard to come by. I wouldn’t mind breaking her in if you can’t.”
    William started forward, fists at the ready, when Ben stepped forward. “That’s enough, Troy. We were not sent to carry out our usual bidding.”
    Troy took a step back, obeying, although it looked like it took every bit of self-control he had to do it. “Sorry,” he said, before mouthing in William’s direction. “Sorry someone’s so sensitive.”
    Ben ignored him. “We are here to merely deliver a friendly message,” Ben said, watching William carefully.
    “I know the rules,” William said, his jaw tight. “I don’t need any reminders.”
    Ben’s eyes circumnavigated the area purposefully. “It appears you do. We won’t press the issue tonight, I think our message is obvious”—he eyed me in explanation—“If I might make a suggestion? Don’t make John send for you again.”
    “Well he knows where I am now,” William said, the challenge in his voice unmistakable.
    “Yes,” Ben said, his eyes glinting. “He does.”
    “Farewell, Mr. Winters,” he said jovially, bowing his head. “Until next time.” Ben turned to leave, gesturing with his head for Troy to do the same.
    “Just so you know,” William called out to the retreating pair. “If either of you so much as lay one finger on her again, I will tear you both apart starting with those filthy appendages.”
    Ben said no more, disappearing into the trenches of the night, but a chuckle came from Troy’s throat as he turned to leave. One that said, let the games begin.
    William held his sentinel in front of me, in anticipation of Ben and Troy returning, or perhaps just not wanting to look at me. Judging from the blood crusting the pavement around me, I knew I looked like a horror movie victim who’d happened upon a deranged chainsaw aficionado.
    “You wouldn’t happen to have a bandage on you, would you?” I said, hoping to get through the wall of man before me.
    He shook his head, looking everything but amused.
    “It’s a joke,” I said. “You can laugh, you know.”
    He didn’t, he stood before me, rigid and looking regretful.
    “Or loosen up,” I said under my breath as I leaned forward to tie my shoe, realizing the movement was a bad idea. Every square inch of my body throbbed or felt bruised.
    “I heard that,” he said, his voice softer.
    “Good,” I said, inspecting the damage from my head on collision with a brick wall. I ran my thumb down the center of my head, wincing.
    “Let me see that,” he said, kneeling beside me. His fingers maneuvered mine out of the way, as he scrolled around the gash, exploring and inspecting as if he’d done it innumerable times before.
    “I need to get you somewhere so I can get you stitched up,” he said, slipping out of his canvas jacket.
    I shook my head with as little movement as possible. “It’s just a scratch.”
    He barely rolled his eyes. “It’s just a scratch that requires stitches.”
    “I don’t know about you, but I don’t let pre-med students use me as their guinea pig,” I said, trying to ignore his warm breath that fogged the space between us. “That’s what cadavers are for.”
    He smiled, his mood finally lifting. “A twelve-year-old girl who can stitch a hem could manage ten measly stitches.”
    “Then find me a twelve-year-old-girl.”
    “You’re just going to have to make due with me,” he said, scooping me up suddenly. He rested his balled up jacket behind me, pressing it tightly against my head with his shoulder.
    I was caught off-guard, too overwhelmed with being wrapped in his arms and the scent of him that was a dizzying concoction of cedar laced with cinnamon. He was