Gart hurried up the hillside as fast as he could.

For some reason that was a bit ridiculous given their immortal nature, missing even a moment of Jean’s walk seemed like time that could never be regained. He wanted to see her face when he pointed out certain landmarks, or his favorite lookouts. He wanted to show her the birds, the flora and fauna, and watch her blue eyes sparkle as she discovered secrets of the ancient landscape that only he could show her.

Simply because she was there, existence seemed so much more exciting. Whether she made it so, or his attitude changed, he couldn’t be certain. All he knew was, she was the best thing that’d happened to him, in a very long time.

When he got near the top of the hill, voices stalled his progress. He heard Jean. She was talking with a man. That male voice was strange to him. This wasn’t someone who belonged on the property, at this time of day. Or at all.

Rather than lurch forward, to see who she’d contacted in such an odd meeting place, he stealthily moved toward the pair. His skin began to tingle. He suddenly knew what, if not who, he was dealing with.

There was another immortal exceedingly close to Jean. That was the source of the other male voice.

She couldn’t yet pick up on the situation. As new as she was to immortality, Jean’s senses hadn’t yet attuned to the supernatural nature of other immortals. No one knew why, but it usually took a year or more for that intuitive power to kick in.

Fear for her safety made him move even more cunningly. If this stranger was a rogue—on a mission to kill what they referred to as government assassins—Gart knew that his barging forward might frighten that interloper into harming Jean.

So far, the voices were calm if very low. He wasn’t yet close enough to hear what was being said, but would be soon. If that other guy hadn’t sensed his presence yet, he would within seconds.

Eventually, he had no choice. He had to move in and quickly.

Making himself as hidden as a man of his size could, he came at the couple from a right angle; up a more slanting slope but steadily forward. When he got to the top, he stood there ruing the fact that he hadn’t brought his sword, and furious that he’d need to do so on his own land. He was on the other male’s left flank. Because she faced this unknown intruder, Jean saw him first, smiled and beckoned him forward.

The man turning to face him was, indeed, an immortal. The telltale electric sensation was almost overwhelming, but Jean had no clue. Oddly, the other man didn’t seem perturbed about his having snuck up on them. The guy probably knew he’d been near, very early on.

Suddenly, another strange sensation washed over Gart. It wafted through his mind and drifted into his entire being. The feeling was something quite foreign to him. He felt as though somebody had just dowsed him in fairy glamor. That was the only way he had to describe the odd sensation. His skin tingled and there was a thread-like current in the air. He quickly shook it off so he could face what might be a very real threat.

The other man was of indeterminate age. He could have been fifty or more, there wasn’t any real way of knowing. The fellow had long, flowing white hair—as white as the feathery mane of the Gypsy Vanner standing beneath a nearby tree. This older man’s face was hidden by an equally white, flowing beard that drifted down his chest. He had bright blue eyes that gazed on him as though the fellow knew everything he needed to. This trespasser had no fear in him. None whatsoever. Gart was sure he’d never sensed such self-assurance. He felt it the same way he felt the rays of the sun on his back.

“Mr. Bloodnight,” Jean merrily began, “let me introduce you to—”

“Jon Merdwyn,” the man announces as he congenially stuck out his hand.

Gart reached out, but gently grabbed Jean by the upper right arm and pushed her behind him. He ignored the hand offered to him. The older fellow simply dropped his arm. Whatever Jean might have thought about his pulling her away, she said nothing.

“Who are you and why are you on my land?” Gart angrily blurted.

Jean gasped, presumably at his rudeness.

“Don’t mind your host’s lack of manners, my dear,” the older man said. “Garrett Bloodnight, as he calls himself these days, knows I’m an immortal. Whereas…you do not. He’s frightened on your behalf. He doesn’t know why I’m here.” He turned his gaze to Gart. “Does that correctly sum up the situation?”

“Who are you? Why are you on my land?” Gart angrily repeated.

“I was riding,” he explained as he motioned toward his horse. “I know the property is registered as yours, but presumed you wouldn’t mind.”

Gart narrowed his eyes. “You need to leave. Now!”

“My good fellow, I have no intention of harming you or Jean. I simply saw her watching me, and rode up to introduce myself. I am not armed.”

“I am!” Gart claimed as he quickly reached down and pulled a knife from the inside barrel of his left boot. It wasn’t his weapon of choice, but that’s all he had on him. He normally used it to cut rope or for some other farm chore, but it was his only source of defense at that moment.

“Gart,” Jean shouted, “what are you doing? He’s not harming anyone even if he is an immortal.”

He slightly turned his head to address her, his eyes remained on the other fellow. “Leave. Now. Consider this the first of the lessons we’d have begun tomorrow, Jean.”

She gasped again in response.

“Don’t you ever leave the castle again without a weapon! Or a phone. Do you hear me?”

“Ben said that a phone won’t work up—”

“I said…go!” Gart bellowed.

She hesitated only an instant before turning and hurrying away. In that split second, before she retreated as he’d commanded, he felt her anger as if it was a hammer being pounded into the back of his skull.

Jon Merdwyn slowly shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done that, Garrett. Rudeness is not the mark of a gentleman.”

“If you don’t start talking,” Gart asserted, as he lifted the blade higher, “you’ll see worse behavior. Count on it!”

“I told you. I’m unarmed. As to why I’m here, I’m simply staying in the area for a time,” Merdwyn claimed. “As to who I really am, I doubt very much that POSI superiors would appreciate your having pulled a knife on me, my lad!” He snorted. “POSI! Who, by all the stars in the firmament, ever tagged the organization with that ridiculous name? It’s absurd. As old as I am, I still don’t know who officially did it. Then again, no one wants to take credit for such a travesty.”

Gart wasn’t letting his guard down simply because an immortal knew that information. Everyone in the UK knew about the regulatory agency that was charged with watching all immortals. That didn’t make this man safe.

“I’ve never heard of you,” Gart loudly announced.

“Ask David Harrington, Bloodnight. He knows precisely who I am though I’m sure his orders are to keep his mouth inexorably closed on matters concerning my existence.”

Gart slightly raised his knife higher. “Why is that?”

Merdwyn sighed heavily and pointed at the weapon Gart now held. “For the last time. I am not armed. Besides, do you really think that eight-inch blade will make any difference?”

“Let me dig out your heart with it and we’ll see!”

Merdwyn pointed toward the trail Jean had taken. “That girl may not forgive you. Not only did you frighten her for no reason, you upbraided her in front of a total stranger. I reiterate…your exceedingly boorish, paranoid behavior is not that of a gentleman. You’re behaving more like a brute, which is certainly not your reputation.”

“Last time! Who the hell are you?”

“I told you. I am Jon Merdwyn. That is my name. At least, it’s my name these days. Call the London office if you want more information, though they’re very unlikely to provide it. For the present, I will tell you no more. You wouldn’t be inclined to believe me in your current mood.”

“Why didn’t home office tell me you were in the vicinity? Since when does an immortal trespass on another’s territory without announcing his presence?” Gart shook his head in denial. “If you’re going to lie, I’m not obliged to listen.”

Merdwyn slowly shook his head. “Dear me! I’d hoped to get off on a better footing.” He shook his head. “As you wish, I’ll leave. Forgive me for having intruded. As to this land being your property…these old hills have secrets you can’t imagine. They were here before you or anyone else staked them with survey markers. You might have legal authority, but this part of the landscape is not and never will be yours or anyone else’s.” He turned to go, then looked back over his left shoulder. “Call David. He’ll tell you enough to know that I’m legit. I wouldn’t have hurt Jean, nor you. Though you could use a good trouncing for the way you treated that girl—”

“You said something about leaving?”

The other man bowed his head, then made his way to his mount. Gart watched until the fellow rode down the hillside and out of sight.

Only when he was sure the immortal trespasser was gone, did he bolt back down the same trail Jean would had taken.

He ran at top speed and didn’t stop until he got to the gray stone foyer of the castle.

He stood panting as Anna Gast trotted toward him.

“What happened?” she quickly asked. “Jean’s in a fury. She said you almost killed someone on the hill—”

“Where is she?”

“She’s in her room, and she’s bolted the door.”

Gart glanced upward, toward the rooms upstairs, but decided to deal with his careless trainee later. “Follow me, Mrs. Gast. I’m calling home office. I’d like you to be present. As my claviger, I think you should be.”

“Absolutely!”

He marched into his study, waited for Mrs. Gast to come in, then firmly closed the door behind them both.

With efficiency—born of anger and fear on Jean’s behalf—he dialed London and waited to be put through to David Harrington’s office. Before the call completed, he pushed the intercom button on the office phone so that his claviger could hear the entire conversation. As luck would have it, David Harrington picked up on the other end.

“Gart, old boy! What news from that part of the—”

“David…I’ve got the speaker on so Mrs. Gast can hear,” he succinctly advised. “Who the hell is Jon Merdwyn, what’s he doing in this part of England, and why wasn’t I told he was near? He came on my land unannounced, and I almost pulled his head off with my bare hands!”

“Good Lord, Gart! Do calm down.”

“Answer me!”

A heavy, beleaguered sigh sounded over the intercom before David spoke again. Gart and his claviger moved closer to each other.

“Jon Merdwyn,” David began, “is a very old immortal with ties to the highest authority. I can tell you nothing more except to say that he is with the agency and he has carte blanche as to his movements.”

“Why? And how could you, of all people, know so little about one of our agents?”

“Because, old boy, on the rare occasion that I asked about him, I was told what I’m about to tell you…he has special privileges, don’t ask questions unless you want to feel the full weight of Her Majesty’s anger. If he wants you to know his business, it’s his choice to tell you.”

“That’s insane! Why hasn’t his identity been made public, just like any other immortal?”

“That’s Her Majesty’s discretion. Do I have to spell it out?”

“I need the man’s image digitally sent.”

“That’s not happening. In the first place, I don’t have it. No one I know does. In the second place, we don’t operate that way simply because you have your knickers up your bum!”

Gart balled his hands into fists. “How do I verify who he is?”

“If he says he’s Jon Merdwyn, I’d believe him if I were you. I can’t think of any reason on the face of this earth that someone would want to steal that man’s identity.”

“David…I know the images of registered immortals are carefully controlled if they’re sent by the government. I know you want as few photos of us as possible circulated…even though every damned teenager with a phone posts them every single day! I know that, by promising as much control over privacy as you can, more immortals might be convinced to come in and register. I get all that. I really do. But I need to know who this man is, and I need to know now! So…can I get his photo, or do I need to go the village, have people track him, take his picture, and post it on the fucking internet so I can see what the hell happens? If anyone out there knows him, they’ll say so, or the trolls and hacks will never stop until they find out. That’s the choice I’m left with!”

“That’s intimidation, and I don’t take kindly to your tone, Garrett! I cannot help it that the law requires immortals to have their photos eventually published. That’s the public’s right to know. If normal people choose to spend their time stalking our agents, it cannot be helped. As far as POSI goes, we don’t send out pictures of any immortal, not until those photos are released in the newest registries. Period. Subsection 1365, Article 91-B of the uniform code of the Paranormal Office for the Surveillance of Immortals…I suggest you reacquaint yourself with the statute!”

Gart turned to Mrs. Gast, his hands flailed out in desperation.

In turn, she patted him on the shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

He took a deep breath and dove further into the subject. “David…are you telling me that this Merdwyn character doesn’t have to follow the law? Is that what you’re saying? Because if he was acting lawfully, I’d have seen his photo in the registries at some point. I’d have most certainly remembered him.”

“Old boy, that’s precisely what I’m telling you! And I reiterate…I don’t know why the man has privileges! I do not ask! I like my current situation far too well to risk it on delving into subjects that have categorically been deemed off limits. You might want to drop the subject. Here and now.”

Mrs. Gast shook her head. “Bureaucracies are what they are. Let me try,” she quietly offered as she stepped closer to the phone. “Uh…Mr. Harrington…Anna Gast here.”

“Ah! Finally! A voice of reason! And someone who won’t remind me of my hemorrhoids…an unfortunate part of being a human with this agency, no doubt. At any rate…how are you, Mrs. Gast?”

“Just fine, sir. Settling into my new role as claviger quite nicely.”

“That’s splendid,” David responded.

“How’s the weather there, Mr. Harrington?”

“Smashing, actually. The rain has finally stopped.”

When Gart leaned forward to speak, his claviger waved him off.

“Sir, if you’re able, perhaps you could describe Jon Merdwyn for us?” she amicably suggested. “We really do need to be sure this man is who he says he is. It’s rather a shock to find out that one of our immortals is a top secret.”

“Yes, he is a very protected undercover operative for many reasons I don’t even care to understand. However, as to your more tactful request, I am allowed to tell you what I recall.”

Gart snarled, but Mrs. Gast gestured for him to be silent.

“The man was only in the London office once whilst I was on duty?” David advised. “That was some time ago. When he came into the building, I only got a few moments to see the fellow. Then, I was ushered into an office and told to stay there until he left.”

Gart lost all patience. “For the love of—”

David cleared his throat, thus interrupting Gart’s outburst. He began a quick rundown of vital statistics. “He’s older than either of you, though I couldn’t give you an accurate age range. Back then, he sported long white hair, and a rather thick white beard. He had blue eyes and a somewhat wizened expression. He didn’t seem the remotest bit dangerous.”

“Go on,” Mrs. Gast urged, “can you recall anything else?”

“I’d go so far as to call him lanky. The fellow spoke very briefly to someone in the hallway, right before I was scurried off like an unwanted rodent. Others have said, despite his rather inoffensive appearance, that the man is quite deadly on assignment. As to what kind of missions he’s given, I don’t know. But he does have Her Majesty’s trust. I have no documentation to back that, but my gut tells me it’s true.”

“Why is he here?” Gart impatiently continued.

“That, my dear boy, is up to him to tell you. The way I see it, I’ve already said too much. Just understand that the man may go wherever he pleases. If he’s in your part of the world, however, I would not consider his presence coincidental.”

“Who’s his claviger?”

“Gart…I don’t know if he even has one…and don’t you dare go off on me again!” David quickly added. “You’ve heard all I know of the man. If you anger him, and he starts making calls, you could find yourself in what used to be referred to as a sticky wicket!”

“He was on my land without telling me, David! It’s not done. Not ever!”

“Pull up your big boy knickers and deal with it! Now…is there anything else?”

“Just one more question,” Gart announced. “It’s not much to go on, but the guy was riding a horse. Would you happen to know anything about the breed he prefers?”

“If he favors them at all, he’s among thousands of Her Majesty’s subjects.”

Gart was pulling at straws. He knew it, but he’d had to try. He briefly pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll say this one last time, Gart. Jon Merdwyn goes when and where he damned well pleases. If you don’t want to be called to London on a charge of insubordination…drop this…now!” David warned.

“Insubordination?” Gart shouted.

“Thanks so much for all the help,” Mrs. Gast tactfully added before punching the button to end the call. Then she turned to face Gart. “Well, that clears that up.”

“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this information? Apparently, in the eyes of the law, some of us are a bit more equal than others!”

“Mr. Bloodnight, please calm down. You need to go upstairs and speak with Jean. She didn’t like being treated…as she put it… ‘like a child’.”

“If this Jon Merdwyn fellow isn’t who he says he is, I probably saved her damned life!” he shot back.

Mrs. Gast simply crossed her arms over her chest and pointedly stared at him.

As he knew the situation, Anna Gast and Jean were now the thickest of friends. If he was to work with either of them, he’d have to reel in rage and replace it with diplomacy. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right, Mrs. Gast. I’ll speak to her. In fact, this entire thing is most assuredly my fault. I’ll apologize. To her and to you.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do. I took out my anger on you and David. I’ll send him a contrite message. As to Jean, she didn’t know. I didn’t warn her about such strange events. She’s new to this life, and hasn’t been taught a healthy respect of approaching strangers. She simply came upon some fellow riding and spoke to him. As friendly as she is, that would be normal for her…in her old life. As to the life she has now, she depends on me to teach her. I failed and it could have got her killed. This whole incident is my responsibility,” he slowly repeated.

Mrs. Gast smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “No harm done. This is a situation none of us could have expected, sir. This man is apparently a stranger to his own organization. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gast. As always, you’re my right hand.”

“And always will be. I’ll be in my office if you need me, sir.”

He slowly walked out of the study.

* * *

Jean stood in her room waiting.

He’d come, sooner or later. There’d be the angry butt-chewing for doing something he’d told her she could.

If he thought she’d cower, either because of his size or his position within POSI, he had another think coming.

A knock sounded on her door. Instead of shouting for whoever it was to come on in, she considered how very soft that rap on the door was.

When she’d been a teen, and had done some stupid thing that her parents were either angry or confused about, there’d been a very hearty pounding followed by her full name.

‘Jean Loraine Long…your mother and I need to speak with you this instant!’

The following counseling session, for whatever transgression, was always firm, but had always ended with everyone hugging. As a result, she tried to never make the same mistake twice. New ones always came up, but not the same ones.

For the rest of eternity, someone—if not Garrett Bloodnight—would forever be knocking on her door, upbraiding her over something she didn’t do right. There was so much to learn, in a game in which she’d never wanted to be a player.

The knock came again, but was followed by a soft voice.

“Jean? It’s Gart. Can we talk? Please?”

Confused by the soft entreaty when he’d been so very outraged, even crazily so, whatever anger she might have felt suddenly fled. He wasn’t the type of man to play games. He wouldn’t try to get her to open the door only to then vent his anger.

“Come in,” she announced.

The door half-opened. A man that her former girlfriends might have referred to as a giant underwear model sidled into her small foyer.

“Staff is cleaning the hallway. Do you mind if I close the door so our conversation remains between us?” he kindly asked.

“Please do.”

Once the door was closed, she wondered if she was giving his controlled persona too much credit. Still, he remained calm. In fact, his expression seemed almost repentant.

“I want to apologize,” he readily offered. “I told you that you could go anywhere on the estate. You were doing nothing wrong. My response was over the top. Way over.”

A bit taken aback, she moved a little closer. “Why did you get so angry?”

“That man, whoever he is, may be totally harmless. I checked him out with home office, and a description seems to match what David Harrington knows of the fellow. But he’s not following protocol. You’re still so new that you couldn’t tell he was immortal. He knew that. I don’t think he told you what he was. That concerns me.”

“No. He didn’t say anything about his being immortal.” She swallowed hard. “You th-think he’s dangerous?”

“I don’t like him being on my land, and not announcing his presence. If he’s from POSI, he knows how to approach another immortal’s domain.” He shrugged. “That notwithstanding, I did something I rarely do.”

“Sir?”

“I let my guard down where your safety is concerned. I could have got you killed.”

She opened her mouth to say something like, oh, it’s okay. Clearly, it wasn’t okay. He was really concerned. His angst made her concerned.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jean. In any other case, I’d have never let any immortal trainee go out without a claviger. Or without me by their side. For some crazy reason that no one has ever been able to figure out, we can’t get cellular reception up on that hill. You couldn’t even call for help, assuming you had your phone.” He ran his hands through his hair. “May I sit?”

She pointed to a large, overstuffed green chair which had seemed huge until he plopped unceremoniously into it, filling it to the last inch.

“It’s been a long time since I was called up for any mission. I don’t do that sort of thing any longer. As I told you, I’m too well known. But there are rules. I seem to have forgotten even the slightest of these.”

“Should I have had a weapon?”

“Not being trained, it’d have done you little good. Apparently, this Jon Merdwyn fellow is very old, very well protected by the agency, and quite respected. That’s no reason for me to have totally disregarded what might have happened. Where you’re concerned, I seem to have completely disregarded the most minimal rules,” he reasserted. “I don’t know why. This isn’t like me.”

“Anna didn’t seem to mind my wandering about. Everyone else was okay with it. So, your doing so isn’t out of line.”

“We’ve never had any trouble up here. However, the first rule you learn as an immortal is to expect the unexpected.” He slowly shook his head. “This is all on me. I’m responsible. This man’s appearance has reminded me, in the most alarming way possible, that something bad can happen when you don’t pay attention.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Jean. I must insist that you go nowhere without me, from now on. This rule is more restrictive than I’d have liked. Today could have ended up far worse. This Merdwyn person could have been some rogue. I’d have not known anything was wrong until you didn’t show up this evening. We wouldn’t even have missed you for tea since you frequently miss every meal between breakfast and dinner.”

“When will I be able to feel when an immortal is around?”

“It’s different for all of us. It took me a little over a year. But it could just have easily been some human zealot looking to take out an immortal. They’re all over the place.”

“I…I used to be one of them. With the exception that I’d have never hurt any immortal,” she admitted. “I was just ignorant.”

He stared at her in silence, for a long time.

She slowly shook her head in confusion. “Why did you have to contact home office about this man? Why don’t you know him? As long as you’ve been around, I’d have thought—”

“That’s an entirely other issue to which I have no response. As stated, I’ve never heard of the man. Apparently, David Harrington has seen the fellow briefly, but even David knows nothing about this particular immortal. He could give me no information other than a vague physical description over the phone. Merdwyn, or whoever he is, is apparently protected by Her Majesty, and isn’t on any public list. He’s outside the laws. Likely with the queen’s permission.”

“Holy God!” She fully understood his anger now. “But why must we adhere to the rules? Why is this man given privileges?”

“I don’t know, but if it takes me forever I’m going to find out. Even if David warned me not to go there.”

“No, sir! Please don’t. If the queen knows about this and is keeping it so secret that Mr. Harrington seems to be clueless, your digging into the subject might cause all kinds of grief. Her Majesty must have her reasons. There must be security issues that even you can’t know about.”

“This is what worries me. Your perception of the situation is spot on, Jean. You’ve got a good brain. High intellect. Keep using it even if I sometimes don’t use mine.”

“Thank you, sir. Your anger was entirely logical. I wasn’t thinking up on that hill, or I’d have never let a stranger get that close. As you say…I won’t go up there again, unless you’re with me, or you tell me to go there. No matter where I am, I’ll carry my cell phone, even if it might not work in certain places. I’ll follow any other rule you impose.”

“I wish I didn’t have to impose any.”

“The way I see it,” she explained, “we all need to be careful. Why would this man be way up here, in the north? Makes no sense unless he’s working some case or something. Furthermore, what if he thinks of us as being expendable? Could that happen? Would the agency sanction a law-abiding immortal’s execution? Could they do that if this man, in his omnipotence, believes we were in his way?”

“That won’t happen. Not on my watch, not ever! At any rate, we only have David’s recollection of the fellow. Home office won’t send me a digital photo.”

“Those are the rules as I understand them,” Jean angrily said. “Home office can’t legally send a .jpg from one authorized computer to another. But the entire world can photograph immortals and post them anywhere they want to. Seems very odd that the rules are conveniently abandoned for this man, in his favor.”

“Precisely!” Gart replied, then went silent on the subject for a long moment. “As I see it, I still have my employees to protect. Merdwyn, or whoever he is, will have to prove himself before he comes near anyone on this property again. I have no reason to believe the guy on the hill is who David described on the phone. Apparently, the bastard might not even be required to have a damned claviger.”

Jean’s eyes widened. “How could anyone get that kind of exemption?”

“I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. As it is, I can’t check on the fellow without assuming he’ll find out. And if I piss off the wrong sources, I’ll get called out for insubordination.”

“Is that what Mr. Harrington said?”

“He did.”

“Of all the bloody gall!” she muttered.

“We must assume Merdwyn isn’t legitimate. I don’t care what kind of clout he may have, this guy needs to prove he’s with the agency.”

“How?”

Gart shook his head. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Please, be very careful, sir?”

He half-smiled. “Worried about me?”

“Yes. I am. I trust you. We don’t know who he is.”

“I promise, this won’t happen again, Jean. I may be big, but I’m not stupid.”

“Sir, I’d have never used that adjective to describe you.”

He leaned forward in his chair. “I’ll repeat my profound apologies for being so careless. My lack of judgement would have angered your great grandfather. He wouldn’t have known the imbecile I seem to have become. My wits seem to have grown soft. I’m not entirely sure I’m the right person to train you for more than the very basics.”

“Don’t say that! Please…you sound like you might send me away.”

“You might be better off.”

She moved closer to him. “Please, don’t! I’ll train harder than anyone you’ve ever known. I shouldn’t have wandered all over the property, without letting someone know where I was. In our mutual defense, we rarely see any strangers up in these old hills. So, this a lesson we both learned. Can’t we leave it at that?”

“If it was just my safety we’re talking about, it’d be one thing. But I don’t have the right to put you, or anyone else on this property, in harm’s way.”

“This is Merdwyn’s doing. Not yours. I want to stay here. Please, sir. Please?”

He stood and slowly walked toward her door.

“We’re still training in the morning? Right?” she tentatively asked.

He turned to face her once more. “You can stay, Jean. Truth is, I can’t say for sure that this fellow hasn’t shown up because of you. I feel responsible for your future.”

“Why would Jon Merdwyn be here because of me?”

“I don’t know. His arrival, as I’m told, is likely not coincidental.”

“I see,” she said, then chewed on her lower lip.

“If you stay here, training is going to be rough, Jean. Where I might have kept it slow, we can no longer afford the luxury of patience. I’m not going to let someone…another immortal…come on my land and make a fool of me. I don’t care if he’s got the entire Household Cavalry at his beck and call. This is a mistake that, thankfully, we’re still here to correct. And I mean to do so.”

“Sir—”

“My inattentiveness and arrogant presumption could have cost us. That’s an end to the subject.” He paused. “I won’t be at dinner tonight. In fact, you won’t see me until tomorrow morning. I think that, from now on, a certain distance should be kept between us. I can’t train someone to whom I become too close. I can’t let something like this happen again.”

He left the room as quietly as he’d entered. An utter sense of sadness followed.

Jean simply sat on the edge of her bed, trying not to cry.

They’d been so joyful together. Each night, they’d danced and planned future holiday parties with Anna, Ben, and other members of the staff. They’d learned to celebrate the convivial coexistence that had settled over the entire household.

All that was gone. She was a trainee he meant to take into hand. He saw his role as being that of preparing Major James Long’s great granddaughter for immortality. But the real reason for the solemn changes had to do with this Merdwyn fellow. As she saw it, the man on the hill caused all this turmoil by just being present, and having few if any rules to follow.

As to training, there was no doubt that Gart would be the most effective coach she could have ever been assigned.

Was she putting her heart where common sense should be? Was she getting too close to the people here?

After losing everyone she loved, she’d been unconsciously looking for a familial relationship. She’d found that replacement at Bloodnight Hall, and didn’t want things to change. She’d grown very fond of everyone.

Surely, the organization would have known that pushing them all together, in this remote place, encouraged a sense of family. Wasn’t that what they’d wanted?

She’d made a choice to join this organization and play by its rules. That meant taking on missions to keep others safe. If she could help Gart and everyone in his household—in any small way—then she must remain.

She turned away; determined to align her mood and sense of purpose with the seriousness Gart just displayed.

The life she now had was poignantly driven home.

Time to own who she was, and to quit roaming about the landscape with her head up her rear.