Page 81 of The Immortal's One
My eyes dip and take in the pretty sundress hanging off Bella’s narrow shoulders. She’s right. If I saw her out in the world, I’d have no idea she was an Immortal being who shared power with her Immortal husband.
“Has someone ever noticed the fact that you don’t age?” I wonder.
“Of course, but we can use our powers to conceal our true faces.” Bella glides down the row of lesser Immortal statues,pausing in front of one depicting a woman holding a harp with faint lines carved around her mouth. She tilts her head, considering it, then adds, “But I prefer to avoid places after visiting for a decade or two just to stay under the radar.”
I walk down the aisle on the other side of the statues. “What places do you visit when you go to cities?”
“Church, mostly.”
I stop in my tracks. “You still go to church?”
“Of course.” She glances up at me, her expression mild. Her eyes shift back to the statue. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I recall the story about how she met her Immortal husband. “Wasn’t your faith shaken when you first learned what Thane is?”
Bella's gaze turns distant, as if the question pulls her into another time. “Of course. I was raised in a religious home. When I first learned the brothers existed, when I saw their powers, it made me question everything I had ever believed.”
A trace of vulnerability enters her voice as she looks back at me.
“I cried to Thane night after night. I felt so confused… solost… But then he told me something that helped me come to terms with my new reality.”
I tilt my head to the side. “What was it?”
“‘My fellow Immortals and I may influence mankind, but we did not create the world, and we did not create ourselves.’” She smiles, her expression both wistful and serene. “The others call the divine entity the Creator, but to me, that’s still just the Christian God I grew up believing in.”
I press my lips together, absorbing her words. It’s as reasonable an explanation as any. The world is a strange and unfathomable place, and sometimes, the simplest beliefs are the ones that offer the most comfort.
“That’s… understandable.” I eventually say.
“Indeed. Recognize any of these?” Bella changes the subject, walking over to a glass case resting against the wall between the gallery windows.
I join her and peer inside, shifting my view as sunlight glints off the clear surface. Free from the glare, I look at five miniature portraits resting on a plush purple velvet cushion.
“Is that Adir?” I point to the blond man in the first portrait. He has a striking resemblance to the frustrated, borderline-aggressive Immortal I met only days ago.
“Yes.”
Even in the painting, the Immortal’s arrogance is easy to see. “Do you trust him?”
Adir is essentially the God of War. Call me judgmental, but my gut says someone who gains strength from violence and destruction might not be the most honorable.
“I do trust him,” Bella’s answers without pause. “Adir can be intense, but he understands the importance of maintaining order. He wouldn’t want to destabilize the way things are done.”
I’m not so sure, but then again, I know nothing about the complex web of immortal politics.
My gaze drifts to the next portrait, and my breath catches.
Des.
The stoic Immortal wears a midnight blue waistcoat with a high collar that sits just beneath his strong jawline. The clothing style reminds me of historical romance films. And I won’t lie, I’m into the Mr. Darcy look.
So was your mom.
I shove the thought aside. I have no interest in sharing any similarities with the woman who abandoned Dad and me.
I focus back on Des’s portrait. He doesn’t look sullen likethose classic, brooding literary heroes. Instead, he looks… calm. Almost at peace. It’s a stark contrast to the angry, aloof Immortal I’ve come to know.
I haven’t spoken to Des since I stumbled into that meeting of the Original Immortals. I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him from afar.
