I looked around and realized he’d stopped time. We were the only ones moving. Grandpa Mac stood with a soda halfway to his mouth. Betty Jo had a corn on the cob at hers, and Mr. Gibson, one of the church elders, had dropped his plate. It hung frozen in the air, his expression comedic.

“If you so choose,” Jared said as though uncertain, drawing me back to him, “you will be immortal with me.”

“Immortal?” I asked, stunned into an overwhelming state of confusion.

“We have been together for centuries anyway, they figured we might as well stay that way.”

“I still don’t understand when you say that. How have we been together for centuries?”

“It’s hard to explain, because it hasn’t actually happened yet. But you’ve been visiting me since the beginning of time. We fell in love millions of years ago.”

While I didn’t doubt that in the least—I’d learned not to doubt—I could question. I had lots of those. “How?”

His charming grin sent tiny shivers lacing down my spine. “You’ll figure it out. You are a goddess of time, after all. You’ve done something no one else in human history has ever done. You traveled into the past and stopped the war that would end all wars. Let’s just say, the higher-ups are impressed. But this is a limited-time offer. You have to either accept or deny me.”

I pushed my mouth to one side in thought. “I don’t know. This is a big decision.”

He chuckled and waited patiently, knowing exactly what I was going to do. I rolled onto my toes. “Yes and yes and yes again.”

“Done.”

I closed my eyes, waiting to feel different. Waiting to feel immortal. It was more than I’d ever hoped for. But I didn’t feel any different, and the noises around us restarted. Everyone came back to life.

Jared leaned down and put his mouth at my ear. “You’ll have to trust me on this. We may have to move often. I’m not sure how immortals will be looked upon.”

Laughing, I pulled him closer, reveled in the feel of him against me. Power emanated from every beautiful cell in his body.

My granddad walked up then, so I broke my hold and beamed at him. He’d been the patriarch of the Order the entire time I was growing up, but he’d basically taken over for my father. Now, Grandpa Mac was the minister and Granddad was a deacon. It suited him.

He put out his hand. Jared took it into his own.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Granddad said.

With a relieved smile, Jared said, “I appreciate that.”

Everyone else nodded as well, some a little more hesitantly than others, but there seemed to be a majority. Until we got to Cameron. He held out his hand and I tensed, not sure what he would do when Jared took it.

He stepped close and said, “She’s still my responsibility. This doesn’t change anything. And I can still kick your ass.”

The patient smile Jared wore morphed into something mischievous and slightly evil. “Care to test that theory?”

He removed his coat. Cameron removed his. And I dropped my head into my hands. This was so not going to end well.

Brooke came to stand beside me as they started the War that Was and Will Always Be.

“This all seems very familiar,” she said, her brows drawn in thought.

“Yes.” I put my arm around her. “Yes, it is.”

POTATO SALAD AND WAR

All in all, they were pretty well matched. It only reminded me a little bit of the battle they’d fought when Jared showed up the first time. In that one, they’d done their darnedest to destroy downtown Riley’s Switch. This time, instead of two-by-fours and tire irons, they seemed a little more focused on choke holds and knees to the face. Their desire to be close to each other was sweet.

After they knocked a hole in the side of the building, Granddad made them take it outside. When Cameron pointed out that they were outside, Granddad replied with, “More outside,” and pointed to the forest.

And that was exactly the direction Cameron flew after a solid kick from Jared sent him that way. Funny thing was, they were both enjoying every minute of it. I would never understand them.

Most stayed to watch the small war. Some went home to be alone with their families, their fears quieted, and some went back inside for more food. Though we couldn’t see much of the actual action, the sounds were quite entertaining. Bones crunching. Trees cracking. And every once in a while, the air would be filled with the deep laugh of whoever had just gotten in the best punch or kick.

Glitch fixed Brooklyn and me a plate, then sat outside with us to watch the fire and listen to the groans of agony emanating from the forest. It was a peace offering and it was nice. Grandpa Mac joined us, cringing every so often at a particularly loud crack, unable to tell if it was bone or branch.

I turned to him. “Did you ever find out why Dyson started it? Why he wanted to open the gates in the first place?”

Mac lowered his head. “He was a distant relation of yours,” he said, and I could tell he hadn’t wanted to. “I knew we would have to have this conversation, no matter how much I was hoping to avoid it.”

“A relation?” I asked.

“Do you remember the story of Arabeth?” he asked me.

“Absolutely. She had a vision that the well water in her village was tainted. Worried for the safety of the townspeople, she ran to warn them. And they burned her for it.”

“Yes, but her pain mostly came from the betrayal of her husband. He turned against her when she needed him most.”