by A. M. Hudson
“That is so cool.” It was the only cool thing—everything else was disgusting and infuriating, but flying was cool. “So? What else can you do?”
“Well, at this point, I can officially inform you that we are a secret society—so, much of the information about our laws and abilities, I cannot divulge.” He smiled, his eyes becoming small. “Even though I already have.”
“But you can reveal yourself? People can know what you are?”
“Only on one condition.” He paused and took my hand. “That is why I told you I must leave, Ara—in the hope that it might come to this—to you finding out once and for all about me, about what I am. Otherwise, I would’ve just left you.”
“Like you did to all the others?”
“I never said that.”
“You move on every two years; you must’ve made friends. Am I the only one you—?”
“You’re the first human I’ve ever told, yes.”
And for some stupid reason, that made me feel special, close to him. But I didn’t want to feel like that anymore; I hated what he was, and I wasn’t sure if I actually might’ve hated him, too. But I knew that some part of me didn’t want him to go away. Not for forever. My lip quivered. “So, you can tell me that you’re a vampire, but you have to leave if you do?”
“No—” He pulled my face against his chest. “Silly girl. No. I can tell you only if I’m sure that you’re—”
My head whipped up to see his face when he went quiet. “I’m what?”
“I guess the right words are…my significant other.” David almost read over his own words in the air, then, seeming happy with the terminology, looked at me. He smiled, pressing his finger under my chin until my teeth fit back together.
Significant other? “But…you’re a vampire. I can’t be your significant other, David. We can’t even be together.”
He swallowed hard. “We can, if you loved me enough.”
“David, you know I love you. But you kill people in order to live,” a hint of hysteria touched my tone. “I don’t know if I can be a part of that. Not as your friend, not as your lover, and certainly not as a vampire.”
David froze in place, like a stone carving. The expression of confusion seemed eternally placed within his eyes, and his chest stopped moving as if he’d given up breathing. “Believe it or not, Ara, it’s kinder to kill them.”
“Er!” My lip twisted up in disgust. “I don’t want to hear anymore, David. Kinder? I—I just can’t even conceive of the idea.”
“Perhaps you have heard enough, then.” A slight nod moved his head, but his face stayed frozen; the smile I loved completely blanketed by pain. “I shall leave you now.”
“Wait, don’t go yet.”
He stopped, but didn’t look at me.
“I just—I just need some time to think. Do you think you can give me that?”
“All I have is eternity.” He snapped out of his intensely deep stare, shrugging, then leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
“I won’t need that long. But, David?”
“Yes, my love.” He stopped by my door.
“Are you in any danger? Because you told me?” I hugged both legs to my chest. “Like, will they be mad with you?”
The door swung open and he stood between here and gone. “No. But if you ever say anything and they were to find out…”
“I won’t say anything.” I rested my cheek on my knee.
“Good.” He gave a nod and disappeared, leaving my door swinging in the breeze he left behind.
I sat there, in the middle of my room, hugging my knees to my chest, until the afternoon turned to evening. When Vicki flicked the hall light on and came up the stairs, I ducked in the darkness, waiting until she passed. And I noticed then, crumpled at the foot of my bed, the damaged remains of the blue rose David stole—the representation of the moment that changed everything.
I jumped up quickly, butt numb, legs stiff, and grabbed the flower, pressing it to my nose. Despite all the damage done, despite the petals falling away, weeping, it still smelled just as sweet as before. Which was comforting to me, because, for all the things that seemed irredeemable, some things were still okay.
I grabbed my diary and pressed the flower between the last pages, then snapped the book shut and sat on my bed in the dull light shining in from the world outside my room.
Chapter Seventeen
“Ara, come down and have some dinner, please,” Vicki called from the bottom of the stairs. Again.
“Not hungry.”
“Don’t care.”
“Argh!” I slammed my diary on the bed and stomped into the hall. It just didn’t seem right to go downstairs and eat dinner with the family—like a normal person. Nothing was normal anymore. I mean, I should probably be telling my dad that I may have gone crazy, because I’m pretty sure my boyfriend just told me he’s a vampire. I smiled, stopping halfway down the stairs. That would be pretty funny—to see the look on their faces if I said that.
“Ara?” Vicki rolled her head forward, raising a brow. “Your dinner’s going cold—move it.”
“Oh, sorry.” I started down the stairs again.
“What is wrong with you?”
“I’m just tired.”
“Well, that’s to be expected.” She walked into the dining room and sat beside Dad.
“Feeling better?” Dad asked.
“Mm-hm.” I sat down too.
“Emily called while you were resting,” Vicki said. “She wants to come see—”
“What did you tell her—about why I fainted?” Everything around me seemed to rock, then grow larger and wider, before rapidly shrinking back in.
“Ara, it’s okay,” Dad assured. “We told Emily you have low blood-sugar—that you hadn’t eaten. No one knows anything about your mom.”
My shoulders dropped; I let out a breath of tension and drew back relief. “So, David caught me, huh?”
Dad nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you see him catch me?”
“No. That’s the weird thing. I wasn’t really paying attention.” Dad set the bowl of peas on the table and looked at me. “All I saw was David by the er—well, David was a few feet away. I heard everyone gasp, so I looked over at you, then he was there, lifting you off the ground.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He should join the track team,” Dad said.
“Yeah. He is really fast.”
“What’s the matter, Ara?” Dad asked.
“I’m fine. I’m just really tired.”
“Honey, you can fool some of the people all of the time—but you can never fool your dad.” He grinned.
“I know. It’s just—David.”
“David? What’s he done?” The warm blue of Dad’s eyes turned to ice.
“Dad—nothing. He just. He has to go away soon. I’m going to miss him, that’s all.”
“Go away? Where?” His tall posture seemed to shrink back down a little.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?”
“Okay,” he said slowly, then looked at Vicki.
With a sigh, I stood up and issued a pleasant smile. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”
“But you didn’t eat anything,” Dad said.
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Okay, that’s fine, Ara.” Vicki held a plate out to me. “But at least take some food up with you. You look skinny.”
Stifling the urge to scowl at her and tell her to mind her own business, I looked up from my bony hips and nodded, taking the plate. “Thanks.”
“Night, honey,” Dad muttered, way too casually. He knew there was something up, but he wasn’t going to ask. Dads are smart sometimes, but even smarter to stay out of it.
There was no comfort for me in the dark tonight. I couldn’t dream that I’d wake up and meet David across the road tomorrow; couldn’t fantasise about the day we’d get married or how we’d sit on a porch swing, rocking back and forth while we wat
ched our grandchildren play in the yard, because those dreams were the darkness, now—a haunting kind of darkness. They were what kept me going when I didn’t want to breathe; they were what made me think that perhaps I wasn’t cursed. But it was ever clearer that I was being punished—haunted by those dreams forever—because David and I couldn’t possibly be together.
A dancing flame flickered against the wick of the vanilla candle by my bed; I sat in its gentle glow and blew out the match, breathing the cindering smell of wood as the flame withdrew. Across my room, the girl in my dresser mirror appeared; I touched my fingers over my face, over the scars, watching her do the same. Once, David had made it all okay; he made the scars seem faded, he made the days feel sunny, but now, despite the gentle glow of the candle taking some of the darkness from my room, he’d also made the nightmares that used to hide in the shadows when I was a little girl peek out from the past. All the things my parents said weren’t real—all the monsters and demons—actually were. I mean, there could be a bogeyman under my bed, for all I knew. And David was one of those monsters; he was the epitome of nightmares—the very thing that made me draw my foot from the edge of the bed and hide it under my covers. But a small part of me wanted to accept him. A small part of me—a very small, irrational and rose-coloured-glasses part—didn’t care. I just loved that damn vampire so much.
But at the same time, I couldn’t separate myself from the idea of a life lost.
Then again, I wasn’t sure I could live with myself if I let him go.
For such a short time, I thought I was going to be okay. David rescued me, showed me what real love felt like, gave me my first kiss. No one had ever kissed me like that before, and no one had ever told me they loved me—and meant it. And now that was gone—the hope of being with him always—I just felt empty and more confused.
Disregarding my resurfaced fear of The Bogeyman, I flipped my legs over the side of the bed and wandered to my desk, opening my diary in front of me.
Dear Diary,
It’s funny how love goes; you think you have morals and strong beliefs, but when you strip it all down, the truth is that I want to love him. I want to forget about what he is and just love him. But, by accepting him, I’d be condoning murder.
On the other hand, I can go on forever not loving him, when there’s nothing I can do to save those people, anyway. Will I punish myself for what David is?
I looked up from the pages to the phone by my elbow. I wished it would ring and, in my moment of weakness, I could tell my best friend everything. He’d know what to do. But he’d tell me to run. In fact, he’d be on the first plane over here, stick me in a duffel bag, and carry me off to a faraway land, pack me into a crate, and stand guard for the rest of my life.
Okay, perhaps the phone ringing was a bad idea.
I dropped my head into my hands.
Outside, dotted twinkles of silver sparkled in the night sky; once, they were glimmers of hope for me, but tonight, stared back down into my insignificant little life, offering no solace or resolution at all. But matters of the heart; they were never solved rationally. Love is irrational. Love is unfair.
There would be no going back. No lazy afternoons by the lake, warm and safe in David’s arms. We’d never get married or have babies, never grow old together and get arthritis, and if I became a vampire—never die.
Before I lost my family, death was always something that, for me, seemed years away—hundreds of years. But in the face of immortality, all I could think of was how restless it must be to know you’d never find peace, never reunite with those who’ve passed, never find out what was on the other side. And sure, you get to live forever, but I bet the novelty would wear off pretty soon—and then what? Then it’s too late. And what if I became a vampire and, after a few thousand years, he got bored with me?
“That—” a voice broke through the silence, “—could never happen.”
“David?” I shot up out of my seat and pinned my back to the wall beside my dresser. “How long have you been there?”
He sat comfortably in the nook of my window, his back against the frame on one side, his foot propped up on the other. “Long enough.”
“Long enough for what?”
“To know that you’re battle of conscience is not winning against your heart.”
I pressed my hands flat to the wall behind my hips. “One will have to win eventually.”
He jumped off the ledge, landing silently in my room. “I know.”
“David, please—” I put my hand out; he stopped advancing. “Just stay back, okay?”
“I won’t hurt you.”
“I know.” I tried to take a breath, but couldn’t.
He looked up from his feet, smiling, with a hint of mischief behind his eyes. “Do you?”
“Yes. I’m not afraid of that, right now. I—you know how I feel about you. And knowing what I know about you should change that, but it hasn’t.” I touched my chest. “And until it does, even a little bit, I won’t trust myself to touch you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s ludicrous, David. You kill people—with your teeth. I should hate you.”
“And yet you want to accept me.”
“Which means there’s something wrong with me.”
“Or maybe you’re just in love.”
I shook my head, reinforcing my warding hand when he took another step closer.
He sighed, letting his arms fall loosely to his sides. “If I could perform a memory charm on you—make you forget, would you want me to?”
“You could do that?”
“Just answer the question.”
“I—” I didn’t know; happiness was a part of my life when I was in love with David, the boy. All of this reality was just too unusual. I felt insecure, like I was walking on a glass cliff top—sure I might fall through at any minute. But, would I want to love him if I didn’t know he was a killer? “Yes,” I said very quietly, looking down.
“Then why can’t you accept me, now?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Ara, look at me,” he said. “Love is complicated, but you can’t deny this is love.”
“I can try.”
His eyes, green and intense, searched mine. “You refuse my affections, you will watch me walk away, give up our love, for what? To make a stand against a natural predator? That’s all I am, sweetheart.” He slowly came closer, laughing softly. “Would you give up your firstborn to protest against lions killing a zebra?”
“That’s the problem, David. I will be giving up my firstborn. I’ll be giving up everything.” I pushed away from him and darted across to my desk. “I can never have a family, a life, not even a death if I choose you. I’ve been over it—there’s no right way to do this.”
“That may be so, but you still have a choice to make.” His voice shook on the word choice.
My lip quivered and fresh tears stung the edges of my dry eyes. “Why did you have to make me fall in love with you?”
David stood stiff. “I didn’t make you.”
“I know.” I folded my arms and rolled my chin to my chest. “But I do love you, and now I have to choose between love or life and, David, I want a family—like Mum had; I want a little Harry. I want to be a soccer mom and do carpooling and argue with my daughter about the boys I think aren’t good enough for her. And then, one day, when I’ve had a good life, with the man I love, I want to know what it’s like to be old—and die.” I looked up, my eyes narrowed. “Can you understand any of this?”
“More than you know.” Misery swallowed his voice, then he evaporated. A breathless second passed before he appeared on the edge of my bed, his face in his hands.
For the first time since his confession this afternoon, I really let myself look at him—see him for what he was. I pictured the vampire, the monster, and under it, with his shoulders stiff, his grey shirt hugging the knuckles of his curved spine, was the boy—the one with a heart, which was probably very broken
right now. “Damn you for being so cute.” I slumped beside him on the bed. “Why did your uncle want you to leave with him the other day?”
He laughed into his hands then sat up straight, wiping them over his jeans. “I called him—told him I was in love—that I couldn’t leave you when the time came. And he told me that was exactly why I had to leave.”
“Because you were in love?”
“No. Because I love you enough to wish I could give up everything.”
That made me feel heavy and a little numb. If David had just gone, I would be so broken right now, but it would be normal. “Maybe your uncle was right.”
“Oh, Ara, please don’t say things like that.” The anguish in his eyes forced me to close mine. “Have you even considered coming with me?”
I couldn’t answer him, because I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.
“Ara, please. For the sake of a few drops of blood?” His voice edged beyond desperate. “You would throw away everything? You would turn your back on love?”
“No, David,” I said. “I won’t turn my back on love. But I won’t be a part of murder, of death, of fear. It’s more than a few drops of blood. They’re people. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“It does have meaning to me, but not in the way it does to you.” He lowered his head, maybe ashamed of himself. He should be.
“David, I will always love you—to the very depths of my soul, but I won’t live out eternity as an immoral killer,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Immoral?” With a slow breath, he floated up to stand and towered over me, casting a dark shadow across my face. “You think me—immoral?”
“I’m sorry, David, but…I do.” I kept my head down, my eyes on David’s clenched fist.
“If you could only see what you are doing—what it will do to me to be without you.” The energy—the kind of force surrounding him that was normally warm and soft—turned cold, chilling the air with a tearing sensation. “I am not immoral, and I do have a heart—feelings to be exact.”
When our gaze met, my stomach tightened into my throat at the sight of the liquid agony in his very human eyes. “David—”
