Dark Secrets

by A. M. Hudson

  The thought filled my mind like a roll of film from a sad movie or a Kleenex commercial: David, walking away—saying goodbye to him for the last time, for forever. He’d drive down the long, winding road, and when he disappeared over the distant horizon, I’d turn around and walk away. My life would go on in the exact direction I planned for. I’d marry, have babies and grandbabies, and a happy, full life—but a life without David. And it hurt. It burned in a way I never wanted to feel. But while love could possibly shadow morals, it didn’t quell my desire to live, to die—to see Mum and Harry again on whatever the other side was.

  “Ara?” He slid his fingers along my chin and turned my face toward his. “You’ve got to stop making your life about Harry and Eleanor’s death.”

  My heart jumped with the mention of my mother’s name. It had been a long time since anyone said that name. A tear fell onto my cheek where the cool air around the lake took the warmth from it, leaving a cold line down my face.

  David wiped it with his thumb. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to live in my world, but if you decide to stay human, you do have to live. I care so much for you. And this sadness you keep inside will stop you from finding happiness,” he said softly. “Your every thought, every path you take, is influenced by their death. It has to stop.”

  “But you make it all okay. I can’t live without you, David, I’ve already decided that.” His face doubled under my tear-shrouded vision. “Just, living with your lifestyle, that’s a different matter. How do I do that?”

  “I’m not asking you to kill anyone, today. But if, at the end of the summer, you haven’t come to accept murder, then you have to accept that we can only ever love each other from afar. Do you understand this?”

  With those words, my tears spilled past my lashes, and the reality of losing him suddenly became so much more potent.

  He softened, touching the back of his finger to my trembling lip. “I’m sorry, my love. I never meant for you to hurt like this.”

  “I’m okay.” I sniffed, wiping my tears away. “I just don’t really wanna think about you leaving for now.”

  “Okay.” He opened his arm and I slid over, nestling close to his chest.

  “Maybe I’ll change my mind about becoming a vampire once I’ve had some time to think about it all.”

  He released a very long, very slow and shaky breath; I looked up, leaving the closeness of his body when I saw a tear in his eye.

  “David, what’s wrong?”

  His knee came up as a prop for his elbow, his fingers tightly tangling in his hairline, while the sunlight emphasised shadows around his temples, making them seem deep—showing contours of his face I’d never noticed before. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.”

  “I know.”

  No. You can’t possibly know what I’ve been through these past few days, Ara. There is no way to describe the agony I’ve suffered, worrying that, even driving down here today, that you were going to tell me goodbye.” He cast his eyes to the blue sky, then closed them for a second. “It’s almost like…I am afraid I’ll wake up in a moment and none of this will be real, you—” he touched my face, “—won’t be real.”

  “I’m real.” I touched his hand.

  “If I had lost you—” He pulled away, resting his elbow back over his knee, “—If you had told me that you could never love me for what I am, I would’ve died inside—enough that I would’ve spent eternity searching for a way to end my life.”

  “How dare you—even think like that?” I got to my knees in front of him. “Suicide? That’s a coward’s choice, David. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”

  “Oh, look who’s talking.” He looked up at me, kind of laughing. “Do you really think I don’t hear your thoughts, girl?”

  My mouth fell open. He’d obviously been listening to me a lot more than I thought. “Those thoughts are private.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “How dare you.”

  “How dare you.” He rose to his knees as well, becoming taller than me again. “You are my soulmate, Ara—your life belongs to me, and I will not let you have thoughts like that. Not ever. Clear?”

  “No. Not clear. Those thoughts were…” I looked around for the right words. “Were images conjured up in a moment of extreme heartache and loneliness, David—fleeting thoughts—never intentions.”

  “So you would never have acted on them?” he asked, looking down at me.

  “God, no. Never. But you would. That’s the worst part about this. You lecture me, but you—” I stabbed my fingertip into his chest. “You’d take the first express to purgatory if it meant easing your own heartache.”

  “If it were possible for me to die—” he held back a smile, “—yes.”

  “No!” I shook my head. “You don’t get to say that. No matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, you always have to keep going. I did.” I pressed my palm to my chest. “It hurt me to keep going when Mum died, but what would you be doing if I just gave up when I wanted to, when the pain got too much?”

  “Well, it won’t matter what happens to me in our case, because if you stay human, you will never know, will you?”

  “No. You can get through it. You can live—find happiness again.”

  He shook his head decisively. “I won’t be the same man if I lose you.”

  “No one stays the same, David. Everything you are is as a direct result of something that’s affected you in your past, whether it was horrible or wonderful—and no one has the right to destroy themselves because they can’t deal with the pain,” I said. “You have to learn from it. It’s not over—the good in your life—it’s not over until you’re dead.”

  A pompous smirk occupied his face. “Pretty passionate about this, aren’t ya?”

  “It’s because I’ve been there. I almost crossed that bridge a few times.”

  He swallowed hard, becoming suddenly very still. “Will you come to it again when I leave?”

  Maybe. “No.” I smiled. “And you won’t, either. Look, I know you can’t die, but you have to promise me that no matter what—” I took both David’s hands in mine, “—promise me you’ll keep going, and that you’ll try to make your life good again after I’m gone.”

  “Do you mean gone as in old-and-grey-dead, or gone as in you’re-not-coming-with-me?”

  I sighed. “You have to be prepared for it, David. What we have is so wonderful, it will always be wonderful, but it might just be a wonderful memory.” I squeezed his fingertips until he looked at me. “Promise me that if I choose to stay human, you will love again—you will keep fighting for happiness.”

  David wrapped his wrists around my lower back and pressed my waist to his. “I am nothing without you. I won’t promise to go on, because it would be a lie.” He kissed my brow. “When you die, when you no longer exist, I will give myself to the monster inside me, Ara. I won’t survive,” he said, then smiled. “You will just have to promise me forever.”

  “I want to. But today, I can only promise my forever—not yours.”

  He exhaled heavily, leaning back, a mischievous grin igniting his eyes as he looked into mine. “I’ll make you see reason. I can be very persuasive.”

  “And I can be very stubborn.”

  “And that, mon amour, is one of the things I love about you,” he said with a husky laugh. “But please, just don’t be too stubborn. I only have until the last leaf turns red and falls from the last tree. Then, I must go.”

  There was nothing more to say. A choice had to be made. We could have the summer together—it was our only promise. But everything else would just take more consideration.

  I sat down between his legs, my back against his chest, his soft breath warming the top of my head, and awed the tranquil serenity of the lake for a while. Then, as my mind wandered over everything we just said, it stopped on one particular inquisition. “Okay, so tell me?” I squinted against the sun as I turned slightly to look at him. “When exactly did you
want to feed from me?”

  David laughed aloud. “It was right here on this spot, actually. The second time we came to the lake. Do you remember it?”

  He obviously didn’t know how clearly I remembered everything he and I had ever done together. “When you should’ve kissed me.”

  “Yes. It was very stupid of me. Not just because I didn’t kiss you when I had the chance, but also because I hadn’t had blood in two days. Which would’ve been fine if it weren’t for these—” He ran his thumb along my lower lip; I closed my eyes, revelling in the tickly sensation. “Then, to make matters worse, I had to contend with your warm, velvet skin, your sweet smelling breath and this.” He placed his hand on my chest. “I nearly completely lost control.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but, after that day, I now know what I’m capable of. I need you in my life more than I need nourishment. I’m pretty sure that—” he grinned warmly, “—kissing you shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I think I kinda knew.” I laid back against his chest. “I mean, I knew there was some reason you wouldn’t kiss me, but I just never imagined it was because you wanted to bite me.”

  He smiled and kissed my forehead.

  “Well,” I mused, “I suppose that’s the best excuse I’ve ever had for a boy not wanting to kiss me.”

  “There’ve been others?” David asked, curiosity lifting his tone.

  “No, well, one—when I was about five. But that was because of cooties.”

  “Hm, yes, cooties. Horrible disease. Caught it once, myself,” he joked.

  “Was it from a girl?”

  “Well, it wasn’t from a cat, if that’s what you’re asking.” David chuckled and pulled me tighter, kissing my forehead again—like his lips couldn’t get enough of me.

  We sat still for a while, quietly listening to the sound of our own thoughts—or maybe just mine. David and I could exist like this, in perfect unity, where the silent whispers of our minds filled the warm space around us. It didn’t feel uncomfortable. And despite him knowing every little thought I had, including things like needing to go to the bathroom, it, strangely enough, wasn’t awkward.

  “David?”

  “Yes, my love.”

  “No matter what I choose, you know I’ll love you for as long as I live, right?”

  He drew a long breath, becoming so still the only sound around us was the gentle songs of birds along the soft breeze. “Then, I guess,” he said softly, releasing his breath, “I must hope that you will choose to live forever.”

  I wrapped his arms tighter around my shoulders and sat back, imagining it, as a darkened summer glow trilled across the southern sky, lighting the dusk with a brilliant red. The treetops turned orange first, and then, as the shadow of the night descended into the forest, I could no longer see the lake beside us, but marvelled at the heavens—littered with thousands of brightly twinkling stars.

  In that moment, there was no death, no immortality, and farewells were for the unlucky. There was only David and I, and the night—forever.

  For my forever.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Leaning my shoulder against the window frame, I watched the sun rise over the hills to the east—the very same hills David ran to when he stole the blue rose. It’d been only four days since I was thrust into the world of the supernatural, but I still felt just as confused. No clarity had come with time passing. No decision had come waking me in the middle of the night, telling me if I should go with him or remain human. I was starting to wonder if it would.

  The morning breeze brushed over the trees outside, forcing those below to hold onto their hats and papers a little tighter as they headed into the school. And I saw them all in a different kind of light now. Any one of them could be like David—there was no way of knowing. They all looked so normal, so human. Like he did, I guess.

  I looked down at my soft, pale white hands and the little blue veins running under the skin, rising slightly over the bones. These were the hands of a mythological vampire, not David’s; his were warmer than mine, and pink and strong, and they shook a little when he held them out in front of him for too long. I wondered how much of that was well-rehearsed human behaviour, or really just the way his hands were, which made me wonder what he would have been like when he was human.

  “Morning, beautiful.” He sprung up on my windowsill.

  I stumbled back, hand over chest—trying to stop my heart from leaping out. “David. You have a habit of popping up when I’m thinking about you.”

  “Do I?”

  “Mm, but I think you already know that.”

  He grinned and placed a paper bag in my hand, kissing my cheek as he stepped into my room. “For the ogre.”

  “Ooh. Yum.” The warm scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted out in a moist puff from the bag. “Afraid I’ll bite you if the ogre gets tempestuous again?”

  “Don’t joke—” He pointed at me as he flopped down on my bed. “Your bite is pretty sharp for a fangless wonder.”

  “Says he whose bruises recovered in ten seconds.” I walked over to sit next to him. “You want some?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve eaten already.”

  “Food or…”

  “I missed you last night,” he said softly, pushing the curtain of hair away from my face, totally ignoring my question.

  “Oh, what? You mean you didn’t sneak into my room?”

  “Well, I came by to check on you, but I never stay if your dreams are peaceful.”

  “How would you know they’re peaceful?”

  “I can see them.” He grinned and laid back on my pillow. “Last night, you were dreaming about Mike.”

  Dread spread through me, stiffening my arms.

  “Ha!” His lips turned up sharply, showing his fangs. “So, you remember your dream, then?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t like that.”

  He scoffed, tucking his hands behind his head. “Looked pretty intense to me.”

  “You’re reading into it wrong,” I said, trying my hand at dream analysis. “I wasn’t dreaming about Mike, specifically, just the friendship I had with him…that I now have with you—only that with you, I have so much more. His face was a representation of our relationship, but the body,” I scoffed, motioning to David’s fine chest, “was clearly you.”

  David nodded, still smiling, with an edge of mockery in his eyes. “Should I be worried?”

  “No,” I said with a mouthful of pastry. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Do you love Mike?”

  “No.”

  He sat up, dropping his elbows to his knees, his hands clasped. “You sure?”

  I sighed. “Look, I do love Mike, but it’s a different kind of love. Here.” I took his hand and placed it against my cheek. “You told me you can see the past if I let you—see for yourself. Read my mind.”

  His emerald-green eyes darted over my face. “Really? You’ll let me read your mind?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “Thank you, Ara.”

  “Did you see?”

  “No.” He pulled his hand down from my face. “If you say you don’t love him that way, then I believe you. I don’t need to see it in your memories. Just don’t break my heart, okay?”

  “Okay. I promise. Now, can you stop hassling me and let me get ready for school? We’re gonna be late.” I popped the last bite of pastry into my mouth and kissed David on the lips. “Thanks for breaky, by the way. It was delicious.”

  “I imagine it must’ve tasted the way you would,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Well, you’ll never know.” I winked at him, then practically skipped into my wardrobe. After I pulled my shirt off and snapped the clasp of my bra behind me, a warm, honest chuckle filled my room. I peeked around the corner.

  “How old were you in this photo?” David asked, without looking up from the small square sheet.

  “Two or three, I think.”

  “The boy n
ext to you is Mike?”

  “Yup, and he’d just tipped a bucket of bathwater over my head.”

  “Yeah, I kinda gathered that.” David nodded, smiling tenderly at the picture. “He picked on you a lot, didn’t he?”

  “Yup. Not much has changed, really.”

  David slipped the photo back into my nightstand where he’d been snooping. “You were a very cute baby.”

  “I know. So, what about you?” I headed back to my wardrobe and shimmied into my jeans. “Do you have any baby pictures?” His pause of consideration turned into a long silence, so I stepped back into my room. “David?”

  “There were some.” He nodded, his gaze distant. “My father was never one for portraits. As Jason and I grew older and would sit for long enough, my uncle had a few done. There may still be one in existence.”

  “Didn’t your mother ever have one done?” I asked, and David’s eyes darkened instantly. I covered my mouth with both hands. “I’m sorry—that just slipped out. I forgot she passed away.”

  “No, no, Ara, it’s fine. Please—” he took my hand, “—don’t be sorry.”

  “But I am. I feel really bad. I should’ve remembered that.” I slumped down on the bed beside him, sucking my gut in a little since I had no shirt to cover it.

  “Make you a deal.” He ran his thumb over my bra strap. “You can say whatever you want to me, if you do it dressed like this.”

  I laughed. “Should I go put on a shirt?”

  He smiled. “No.”

  “Will you tell me about her—your mother?”

  His gaze drifted to distant places. “I mentioned once that she died when I was a baby?”

  “Yes. Childbirth?”

  “Yes.”

  I clicked my tongue. “Aw, David.”

  He shook his head. “It was common for those times, especially with Jason and I being a multiple birth. She simply gave birth, then fell asleep—never woke up again.”