Page 43 of These Immortal Truths
A moment of silence and then his laughter fills the space, echoing over the water and slipping through the trees. “Anna, there is nothingjustabout you.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Nor did you.”
“I did, actually.”
“Not to my satisfaction.”
Anna rolls her eyes at his stubbornness. There’s a smile hiding at the corners of his mouth, a testament to how entertaining he finds it all. “What would you call me, then?” she challenges. “If I were a god, what title would you bestow on me?”
His smile retreats, replaced with something more thoughtful than she intended. It was supposed to be a silly question, something he responded to with jest. There’s a sincerity in his gaze that assures herthat he’s weighing his answer with far more consideration than she expected.
“Anna, the Benevolent,” he says, so softly the gentle movement of the creek nearly drowns it. Anna doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know what to say. He must see the struggle in her expression, because he saves her with a smirk. “I have studied Mary for three days. I can say with certainty that I would have pushed her into the pig waste.”
Anna snorts on a laugh, bringing a hand up to stifle the sound, but the light in his eyes only encourages it. It bubbles out of her, leaves her breathless, and oh, it feels so wonderful to laugh. To let herself express joy after seasons of suppressing it. She can’t seem to pull it back; she is an overflow of relief and delight spilling over.
Khiran does nothing to contain it. If anything, the grin he wears only encourages her.
Anna kneels, torn between anger and irritation.
She had known Mary had a general distaste for her, but she hadn’t quite believed that she actively wished for her death. Of all things, it isn’t the patterns on her skin that condemn her, but a bitter woman’s jealousy. Behind Anna’s back, she had gone to the minister with accusations of consorting with the devil. Why else would she so fearlessly go into the wilderness—the Devil’s den—alone and so often?
Now Anna waits for what she knows will only be a disaster. Hands bound in front of her and tied to a post for the entire settlement to witness her humiliation, Anna knows there is no trial that saves her. They’ll search her for a mark and find more than they’d spend time counting.
Mary approaches her, leaning down until they’re face to face.
Not Mary, Anna realizes. Mary would never risk touching her,too afraid of what powers the devil might hold. Too afraid she might corrupt her with a look or a word.
Khiran’s grin is crooked. He leans forward, their cheeks brushing as he whispers in her ear. “Shall we give them something to fear?”
Anna pulls away, reads the mischief in his eyes. It sends sparks across her skin, in her chest. “What did you have in mind?”
His fingers run along the rope. “A disappearance of a very bound, very public person accused of fornicating with the devil.” He tilts his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “Perhaps a touch of smoke and embers for drama?”
He’s erected no barrier around them, she can feel the settlement’s eyes as easily as she can hear the shout for Khiran to step away. She bites her lip, smothering the smile that wants to break free. “Surely there would be some disappointment if there wasn’t.”
His grin is wide, she can feel it as he leans forward and whispers in her ear—his hands finding purchase around her waist. “Apologies, I’m afraid we’re going a touch farther than last time.”
Anna’s lips part around a question she never gets to speak. Around her, the world is shrinking and expanding, a kaleidoscope of moving pieces that blur so fast they make a tunnel of color around them. She can feel it pulling at her clothes, at her skin, threatening to rip her apart if not for the protective hold of Khiran’s arms caging her in. Over his shoulder she spies a glimpse of stillness through the chaos—a fragile look into the place she left behind.
A piece of rope falling to the ground—scorched and smoking—empty of her hands.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jealousy is beneath him. An emotion for mortals with their too short lives and limited patience. He feels anger and bitterness for the things he cannot have—the freedoms they refuse to give him—but never jealous. And yet it’s there, poison laced fingers gripping his heart, when she mentions there’s another. In that moment, he understands. She is the one thing he denies himself.
THEAMERICANCOLONIES
1776
Anna doesn’t like the way things are changing.
She knew she wouldn’t. It’s why she convinced herself to cross the Atlantic to begin with—so she could see its beauty before it spoiled. She just didn’t comprehend how much ground she would have to cover—how big this “New World” really is—or how fast the colonization wouldspread.
So much blood, so many lives, have been lost over the last century. The disease, the wars being fought between the native tribes and the foreigners from across the sea trying to settle on a land that isn’t theirs to claim. For a century, Anna travels with no destination in mind. She helps who she can and learns when she’s able. She suspects she may never be as well versed with the local flora and treatments as she is across the sea, but with the help of some willing natives, Anna was able to learn some of the local remedies.
She worries it won’t be enough.
