Page 77 of (Sur)real
Following my nose, I discovered most of the group in the breakfast area. Olivia, Michelle, and Gabby sat at a table of four near the window. The morning sun glinted off Olivia’s hair, a blonde so pale it almost seemed white. A small smile tugged at her lips as she listened to whatever Gabby was saying. If not for my heart thundering in my ears, I would have heard every word.
Thoughts of eating vanished. Like a man in a dream, I moved toward their table, seeing nothing else but my Mate.
Olivia turned, her gaze falling on me.
“Jim, are you all right now?”
“Yes.” I pulled out the open chair and sat across from her.
“I was just telling Olivia about the time you got me drunk in a bar,” Michelle said.
“That technically happened twice, didn’t it?” Gabby added.
“I was more careful the second time. I think most of that was Isabelle,” Michelle said.
The pair grinned at me. I smiled and leaned back in my chair.
“I’m pretty sure Emmitt’s on your tablet ordering Christmas gifts for the boys right now,” I said.
Michelle frowned, pushed her half-finished plate at me, then quickly left.
Gabby watched me with a hint of amusement.
“How are you going to get rid of me?” she asked.
I laughed.
“I’m going to ask you nicely. Can I please have a moment with Olivia?”
“I could use a nap anyway.” She stood, picking up her plate. “I know it’ll be hard for you, but be good, Jim.”
She walked away with her plate, heading back toward the rooms. From a table near the hall, Sam stood to follow her, giving me a parting look of warning. I noticed Henry sitting with Mom, Dad, and Uncle Grey. Grey winked at me and went back to his waffle.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Olivia said, drawing my attention again.
“You didn’t. The oath I took hurt me.”
Saying those words brought me back to the moment that I took the oath and the voice.
Power is granted until worthiness is lost. Death rewards self-interest.
The words hadn’t come from Winifred. I hadn’t given who the voice belonged to any thought at the time. The need to get to Mary’s family and the boys had consumed me. Yet, now, after everything that had happened and everything Olivia had said, I began to wonder. Had it been the Lady?
If so, what did it mean that she granted a few of our race the power and strength to guide our people?
“I’m still sorry you were hurt,” Olivia said.
I stared at her.
Death rewards self-interest.
My interest in Olivia was fated, orchestrated by a being that seemed to influence all. How then, could it be self-interest? It couldn’t.
I grinned widely.
OLIVIA…
Guilt wanted to nibble its way into my mind. I hated that what Jim felt for me had hurt him and that my connection with him would only bring him more pain. I wished I could see his face to know how he was looking at me right then. Was he angry? Frustrated? I couldn’t tell based off of his movements.
