Dark Secrets

by A. M. Hudson

  “No. Can’t you see? Ara, you have no idea what you’re giving up.”

  “If you knew my heart, you’d know those words are untrue,” I whispered, looking away from the broken pieces of the boy I loved.

  “If I knew your heart, Ara, I would’ve known I should never have shared myself with you.” He cut the air with his hand.

  “You’re right,” I said irresolutely. “You should never’ve told me. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t need to know. Now, I have to lose you still, but it’s worse, because I know you’re out there, every day, taking life. And I kissed you. I let myself love you. And I wish I hadn’t.”

  “So that’s it, then.” He nearly choked on his words. “You want nothing to do with me, now?”

  “You should’ve given me more time. I wasn’t ready for you to come back yet.”

  He took two slow steps away from me, touching his chest as the distance became greater. “Well, have no fear, my love. I shall not make that mistake again.”

  He sounded a hundred years old to me, then. The weight of his existence tore down my walls as I watched him walk away, and somewhere inside me, a little voice screamed out, echoing from the depths of my soul—warning me that if I let him leave now, I would never see him again. “Wait!” I called in a breath of desperation, reaching for him as I jumped to my feet. “David, wait.”

  He stopped, crouched on the ledge of my window, keeping his eyes on the night below.

  “Please, give me more time. I’m not ready to let go, yet, I just—maybe we could have until the end of the summer, at least. But, I just need time to think about it.”

  David turned his head and looked into my eyes. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and when the vampire jumped back into my room and stood right before me, I didn’t even flinch. Not one uneven breath escaped me. He leaned down and pressed his cold fingertips to my face, rolling it firmly upward to meet his. “Follow your heart, mon amour,” he said. “When nothing in this world makes sense anymore, just follow your heart.”

  I drew a shaky breath and closed my eyes as an intense exchange of hope and fear consumed our souls and, in a flash, as I opened them again—he was gone. Gravity made me stumble forward a step in his wake, his absence leaving my heart burning.

  The night below my window, cool and quiet, regarded none of the tension in my soul. A lonely cricket hummed his perfect song, and I closed my eyes as the last day that life was everything I expected came to an end.

  Squinting in the bright morning sun as my sneakers clapped over the pavement, I started down the street—in the opposite direction of the school. I wanted to be as far away from that building as I could get.

  I drew deep, throat-grazing breath of the near-autumn chill, blowing it out in a slow, controlled breath. I’d almost forgotten how to breathe while running. I’d let myself get so unfit that, instead of feeling free and fast now, I felt like I was trying to jump under water. But the tight stitch, the inability to breathe, and the sweat beading on my brow was all normal. And none of it was fair. I should be ignorant to all of it—sunshine, birds singing, hearing my dad talking in the kitchen, or a car taking off down the street. No one my age should appreciate little things like that. When I wake up, my only dilemma should be which dress I want to wear. It sucked that I’d felt grief so deep I could value the little things. And it sucked that I had to either lose the boy I loved, or become immortal—and the fact that David killed people really sucked. No pun intended. The only trouble was, when I concluded not to love him, it hurt inside—a physical ache in my gut, like the one that made me throw up on the first day of school.

  “Hello stranger,” a soft, soprano voice called.

  I stopped dead and turned around. “Hey, Emily. Do you live around here?”

  She shook her head and motioned behind her. “Spencer lives here. I stayed over last night.”

  “What?” My eyes bulged. “Stayed over?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “Oh, I mean, not like that—I was just babysitting his little sister.”

  “Oh, okay.” I folded over a little, trying to catch my breath. “Didn’t you go to the wake, at Betty’s?”

  “Yeah, but Spencer’s mom’s a nurse. She got called in on nightshift after.”

  “So—can’t Spence babysit?”

  Emily scoffed, obviously humoured. “He’s just not that kind of guy.”

  “Oh.” I wandered over and leaned next to her on the brown picket fence. “Give his mom my number then. I love babysitting.”

  “Okay, I will. So—” she looked down at my running shorts, then my sweat-covered forehead, “—I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you were—going to a ball?”

  We both laughed.

  “Uh, yeah.” I looked down at my shoes. “I thought I better start getting fit.”

  “Hm.” She folded her arms. “Fit. Is everything okay?”

  “Of course it is,” my tone rose upward.

  “Is it David?”

  “A little.” I sighed and sat down on the curb.

  “Let me guess—” she sat beside me, “—he’s got you all confused?”

  “It’s a talent of his, isn’t it?” I said.

  “Yeah. So, what is it? What’s he done?”

  He’s a vampire and he kills people. “He said he loves me.”

  Her mouth fell open a little, but nothing came out.

  “Yeah.” I laughed. “I know, hey.”

  “Hm, well, he’s never done that before, either. Are you happy?”

  I nodded and sort of shook my head too.

  “Have you said you love him?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I dunno. Just wondering.”

  I tensed. “Is that…a bad thing?”

  She laughed. “Why would it be bad?”

  “I just…I don’t know. I’m not really too good at this boyfriend thing. Normally, when I have this kind of crisis, I ring Mike, but—” But I couldn’t tell him about this one.

  “But?”

  “I think he’d laugh at me.”

  “For being in love?”

  “Maybe. He never really takes that stuff seriously, you know. I don’t think he’d get it.”

  “You could always talk to me,” she suggested.

  “Thanks, Em. But I think I just need some time to sort my head out.”

  “And running helps with that?” She tried not to laugh.

  “Uh, well, it used to.” I sat back, leaning on my hands. “I used to run with Mike every day. It was like, even running with him, even talking while we did, I always came back feeling like I’d left my problems behind.”

  “How’s that working out on this run?”

  “Not so good.” I laughed, then stopped. I knew Emily was trying to get me to open up. She was using the exact same tactics as Vicki, without even realising it. “We had this band of seagulls on the corner of my street,” I said to divert the conversation. “Whenever we’d run that course, the damn things’d barely scatter a few feet in the air to get out of the way. It was really annoying. I always promised myself I was gonna put my foot right up their butts if they didn’t move.” I rested my elbows on my knees, my chin on my palm. “Mike called them gullsters…instead of gangsters.”

  “You didn’t, though? Did you? Kick them?” Emily looked horrified.

  Leaning back quickly, I said, “No! No way. Mike would, though.” I stared ahead then. “He never had any problems kicking butt. I guess that’s why he’s so suited to the Force.”

  “The police?”

  “Yeah. He’s joining the…kind of like, SWAT unit.”

  “Really?” Emily grinned. “That is super sexy.”

  “I guess.” I breathed out slowly. “It’s dangerous, though.”

  “You worry about him?” she asked.

  Pressing my lips together, I slowly shrugged. I actually worried a lot. “I just miss him.”

  “So, why’d you decide to move away from your real mom?”

  Gulp. “Uh, to be wit
h my dad.”

  Emily nodded. “Do you like it here?”

  After a deep breath, I looked down at the mildly busy street, then tilted my face into the warming sun as it melted the early-morning chill from my cheeks. “It’s not like home. It’s not hot and dry, and there’s no ocean in the distance, no black cockatoos on the lampposts, but—”

  “But you still like it?”

  “Yeah. I think I actually love it.”

  “Well, good—” she nudged me with her elbow, “—because you’re starting to grow on us, Ara. Everyone was really disappointed you weren’t there last night—at Betty’s.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled sheepishly and looked down at my untied shoelace, dangling, wet and muddy, from my sneaker. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

  “I know. I saw the whole save me, David, save me thing—” she held her forearm to her brow, pretending to fall backward a little, then dropped her hand, smiling. “He was really worried about you, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “We all were.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just because I didn’t eat.”

  “Yeah, Mr Thompson told me.”

  “I know. He said you called last night.”

  “Yeah.” She looked up then as a car pulled into Spencer’s driveway. “Oh, I gotta go. My mom’s here.”

  I stood up and dusted the loose pebbles of asphalt from my shorts. “Okay, Em. I’ll see ya later.”

  “Are you coming to school today?” she asked.

  “Nah, Dad’ll give me the day off after what happened yesterday.”

  “Okay, well, don’t be a stranger.” She walked backward toward the burgundy car.

  I waved and turned toward home, then walked the rest of the street and landed, in a huffing mess, on the porch step near Vicki’s grey cat. “Hey, Skitz.”

  He ducked low, growling at me.

  “What?” I leaned forward, the creaky step dipping under my weight as I reached for the cat. But I drew my hand back when his growl intensified, moving deeper to the back of his throat, his tail lashing about. Then I noticed something grey and wriggly between his paws, and it wasn’t his fat belly coming to life, either. It was a field mouse.

  “Hey, way to go, Skitz. Good little hunter, aren’t ya?”

  He scoured the scene—probably making sure it was safe to unveil his prey—then tossed the mouse into the air and caught it in his teeth, pausing to scrutinize me.

  “Gross.” Time to go inside. I stood up quickly, but my heel shattered the step under my foot—dragging my shin through before my knee smashed into the edge of the top step, sending me forward onto my hands. Without thinking, I rolled over and pulled my leg free from the wooden cage, scraping the flesh back the other way, making it sting as a mix of blood and sweat smeared into the shredded skin.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow!” I hugged my knee, watching a purple line appear where it had cracked the upper step.

  Not bothering to see if I was okay, Skittles bolted off with his catch of the day. “Traitor!” I yelled, blinking back tears.

  “Ara? Are you okay, dear?” I jumped a little as the front door swung open, disturbing the quiet. “What happened?”

  “Had a fight with the porch step—” I took a breath through my teeth, rocking back and forth. “Step won.”

  Vicki tilted her head and sighed. “I told Greg to fix that weeks ago. I’ll go get the first aid kit.” She ran inside, leaving the front door open, and quickly came back to sit beside me on the remains of the once creaky bottom step. “What were you doing out here anyway, Ara? It’s very early.”

  I winced as she smoothed some sterile solution down the minced skin on my shin. “I went jogging.”

  She stopped for a second. “I didn’t know you were jogging again. That’s really good to hear.” She sounded pleased—with herself.

  “Yeah. Guess it is.” Except, it wasn’t a sign of my recovery, but more of my isolation and desperate need to figure my own head out.

  “Did you see Skittles out here, by any chance? I thought I heard his bell. He has a vet appointment this morning and I want to bathe him before we go.” She grinned.

  “Yeah, well, he’ll need one now,” I said.

  “Why?” She covered the cut with some gauze and tape.

  “He caught himself a nice, juicy mouse,” I probed, watching her face for disgust. It licked her expression without any further prompting. Sam would definitely be bathing Skittles now. Victory move. I one-upped him and he wouldn’t even know it was me.

  “Why would you let him do that, Ara? You know how I feel about that.”

  “Why?” I scoffed. “Vicki, he’s a cat—they kill mice. It’s what they’re supposed to do.” And as soon as I said it, everything slowed down around me. The cat killed. I praised him for it. I all but patted his head not more than two minutes ago. But I’d never punished him. And yet, for some reason, I’d been punishing David for doing exactly the same thing, in the only way I knew how; by denying him my heart. Deep down, the real truth I didn’t want to face was not that he was a vampire, but that, like he said, if I loved him, then there must be something wrong with me. But I loved him anyway—for who he was, vampirism aside. Mouse catching aside. David wouldn’t kill if it weren’t necessary. He was a good, kind person, but also a vampire. It wasn’t the same thing.

  Vicki waved her hand in front of my face. “Ara, are you all right, dear?”

  Blinking, I snapped out of my trance. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Well, come on, we’ll go inside and yell at Dad for not fixing that step.” She took my hand and helped me to stand.

  “Actually, Vicki, I think I’ll just go sit on the swing for a bit.”

  “Okay.” She frowned, then smiled. “Well, I’ll be inside if you need to talk.”

  “Oh, um—” I almost laughed, “—thanks, Vicki.”

  She nodded and walked back up the stairs. When the front door closed, my smile dropped. I stumbled clumsily over the hedge fence at the side of the house and into the backyard. Then, as I righted myself and looked up—met with the eyes of a vampire. “David?”

  Perfect as always, he leaned casually against the oak tree, with one hand in his pocket and a very sexy smile across his lips. “Hello Ara,” his tone seemed to sing the words.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  David looked down at his feet as he shuffled up, very human-like, from his lean against the trunk. I loved it when he looked human. “Can we talk?” He offered his hand.

  “I, uh—” I looked at his long, outstretched fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh.” He dropped his hand. “Okay…I’ll go then.”

  “No. I—” I stepped forward, reaching for him. “I don’t want you to leave. It’s just—” I smiled sheepishly down at my bleeding leg.

  His eyes followed mine, his brow pinching when he saw the gauze. “What happened?”

  I flopped down on the ground in an exhausted heap, my legs and arms sprawled out to the sides. “Apparently I’m heavier than I used to be.”

  He laughed, gently bending my sore leg at the knee as he squatted down. I tensed a little, rolling up at the waist to watch him rest a sweet kiss to the purple bruise. “You will never have to be afraid of me, Ara.”

  “But you’re a vamp—”

  “Yes.” He extended his hand and helped me to sit up. “And it would take a lot more than a line of blood across your skin to make me hurt you.”

  “So, it doesn’t bother you—the blood?”

  “No.” He sat down across from me.

  “Then, it doesn’t make you want to bi—”

  “Shh.” He placed his finger to my lip and nodded toward something behind me.

  I stiffened. “What is it?”

  “Vicki.” He looked back at me. “She’s watching us from the laundry.”

  “Well…what’s she doing in there—just watching us?”

  “No.” David’s intense stare softened to a smile. “S
he’s bathing a cat, I believe.”

  “What?” I spun around to see her struggling with something in the sink—something smudgy and dark-grey—almost slimy, with claw-ending tendrils thrashing out of the tub every few seconds. “Why is she bathing the cat?”

  “I assure you, I have no idea.”

  I turned back, folding my arms, probably wearing a scowl, too. “It was a rhetorical question. Sam was supposed to be doing it—as payback for…well…never mind.” I didn’t want to tell him I mucked around with my little brother like a seven-year-old. “Those deep scratches were meant to be for him.”

  David laughed. “Revenge will not bring satisfaction, Ara.”

  “Says you,” I scoffed, biting my teeth together.

  “If you want to get back at Sam for hitting you with a towel—”

  “How do you know about that?”

  David only smiled, ignoring that question. “You might try stashing dirty cups in his room for Vicki to find, then perhaps she will punish him with the dishes for the next month.”

  I grinned—a wicked grin. “You are evil, aren’t you?”

  “When it comes to little brothers, yes, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “So, um…” I checked behind me, then whispered, “Can we go somewhere? Talk?”

  “Would you like to change first?” David grinned, nodding toward my shorts and zip-up jacket, but stared just a little too long at the space right below my navel.

  If only I knew what he was thinking then, when he looked at me that way.

  “Inappropriate things, Ara,” said the annoying mind reader.

  “Like what?”

  His lips moved, twitching, while his smiling eyes changed shape several times. “Go get changed. I’ll meet you in the car.”

  “But—” I said, stopping when my words struck an empty yard. “Damn it, David.” I stood up, dusted myself off and went to get changed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The warm air of the fading summer skimmed across the glassy surface of the lake, filling my lungs with the scent of grass and clay. “I never thought I’d see this place again.”

  “Why would you think that?” David smiled, already laid out on the picnic rug.