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an Immortal, one person would be able to better sense that line between Mortality and death than a group.”
    “Yeah, and if you kill someone, there’re no other members of a team to share the blame with either,” I huffed. “Come on, this is crazy talk, Bryn.”
    “You’re right, it is,” she said, giving me a look that I’d seen dozens of times from her‌—‌a drop it, Patrick face. “Besides, this is all just theory and speculation. Charles has not once mentioned putting words to action, nor would I agree to it if he did ask. So take a chill and be nice.”
    I grinned. I liked this Bryn, the spunky, don’t-mess-with-me one. “Does William know?”
    “Of course he does.”
    “Of course I do what?” an all too familiar voice asked before he rounded the corner into the kitchen. Taking an exaggerated look at the two of us, William said, “Nice to see you hugging my wife.”
    I pulled back, but only because our embrace had come to an end; there was no threat in William’s voice.
    “I had a bout of verbal diarrhea and she was in the way,” I said, clapping his shoulder in passing as I headed back to my pie. My appetite had returned now that reversal was back where it should be‌—‌in a jar with a tightly sealed lid.
    “How many times will I have to tell you,” he said, running the backside of his hand down Bryn’s face as he stopped in front of me. “Use this,”‌—‌his index finger drilled into my temple‌—‌”before you use this,” he finished, staring at my mouth.
    I cracked a dry smile before shoveling a heaping forkful of pie into my mouth. “Considering you’ve told me that at least once a day for the past two centuries,” I said, my words muffled from my mouthful, “I’d say I’m a lost cause. I’d consider my verbal diarrhea chronic.”
    William shoved off the counter and back from the lost cause and mouthed, “So would I,” over to Bryn.
    “I can read lips you know,” I said, flicking a piece of crust at his bed mussed hair.
    Catching the chunk of flaky pastry, he glanced back at me. His damn eyes were all but twinkling. “I know.”
    “Not you too,” I grumbled, stabbing the pie with my fork. “I’m already a man on the verge, incarcerated and surrounded by felons that think itching, spitting, and one syllable cuss words are the height of civilization, I haven’t been able to touch my girl in months despite seeing‌—‌”
    “Spying,” Bryn inserted, grinning like a fox.
    I continued my rampage with a glare aimed her way, “despite seeing her every night, and then every night when I finally get a reprieve from prison life, I have to dodge and deflect insults from Breathes Fire and Farts Sunshine.” Nathanial would have been pissed and Joseph would have laughed had they been here to hear their latest nicknames. “I don’t need to be on my guard with you too, brother.”
    William waited, his mouth sealed and arms crossed. After a few seconds of silence passed us by, he said, “Are you finished?”
    “No, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear anymore.”
    “And you’d be right,” he replied, trying so hard not to smile. “It seems finding you wrapped around my wife in the middle of the night makes me a bit‌…‌”
    “Of an asshole?” I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.
    “Territorial,” he said. “That’s the word I was going for.”
    “Play nice, boys,” Bryn said, interrupting our brotherly stare down. Good thing because neither William nor I were known for being the first to back down‌—‌we could be here for the rest of our existences. “Or no more pie for you,” she said, tugging the plate away from me, “and no more‌…‌”‌—‌she looked at William, running her eyes down his entire six foot monster sized frame and squirmed‌—‌”no more”‌—‌she cleared her throat in explanation‌—‌”for you.”
    “A formidable threat, Mrs. Hayward,” William replied, looking amused. “Consider me on