by A. M. Hudson
“The camera?” I said. “He didn’t burn my eye—he checked over his shoulder before he threw the torch.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.” I stared, bewildered.
“Smart boy. His manner of evading those tests was genius.” He laughed again. “Mind, you nearly ruined his plan when you so heartbreakingly cried for how he said he loved you. I know the king was convinced enough to stop talking mid-sentence and watch.”
“Oh, my God.” I covered my mouth, my weak arms flooding with blood. “So, it really was because of the blood oath?”
“Yes.”
“Then…if he hadn’t answered that call—in the car…?”
“He would never have done that to you. He had no qualms about turning his brother in and keeping you for himself, but the way he hurt you, after he fell in love with you, was only to protect you from much, much worse.”
“Did David ever make one? A blood oath?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He was never one to risk what he may feel in the future for what he wanted in the present. Until he met you, of course, then lost his mind and did the stupidest thing he’s ever done.”
“Leaving the Set.”
“No.” Arthur sat back. “Going to that Blood Rave, of all places. I wish I could show you—I wish I had my nephew’s power to show you what occurred to result in this outcome. If you need to blame someone, my dear, it should not be Jason. David went to that Rave—exposed himself, and you. After that, there was little Jason, or myself, could do to keep you safe.”
“He was so cruel though, Arthur. How could Jason love me, and yet be so cruel?”
“He carried out the action that was listed on the form by Drake.” Arthur shook his head, his blue eyes flooding like pools of sympathy. “One day I will find a way to make you understand.”
“Did he tell you—” I bit my lip to stop it from quivering, “—that he spirit bound me?”
“I heard, yes. I was not present in the chamber when he announced it, but word has a way of spreading.”
“So, you didn’t see? You weren’t there when David…?”
“I was granted the mercy of absence for that. However, I fail to understand this bind.” His brow pulled over one eye. “You’re Lilithian, how could—”
“He bound me while I was human—came to me in a dream.”
Arthur took my hand, extending his other one to lift my chin; “Was it—consensual?”
“Yes.” I nodded as tears spilled over my pouting lip; “But he posed as another in the dream.”
“Who?”
“Mike.”
Arthur nodded. “Hm.”
I looked down.
“Then, perhaps you will understand, through your own suffering for the love you will eternally feel for someone who is dead, that your existence is ever more important.”
“How so?”
“Until you came along, any vampire who bound them-selves to a human, had to kill that human.”
“Why?”
“Because the spirit bind is eternal, unless the vampire of which inflicted it either changes the human, or dies by the hand of the affected. The act of murder against one you so strongly love shatters the soul, and so, the bind dies with the vampire.”
“How can I change that?”
“Well, with the gift of your venom, vampires may once again choose death, instead of killing the human. In many cases, the pair have been in love, just like you were with my son, and the pain of either separation or death has caused much anguish.”
“If David had bound me to him, is that what would’ve happened with us?”
“If you were not approved for the Change, yes.”
Pieces of my life puzzle slipped across an imaginary table and fit together before my eyes. “Doesn’t sound like it’s been a whole lot of fun living as a vampire these past thousand or so years.”
Arthur laughed warmly. “All that will change now.”
“Unless I decide to run away.”
He clicked his tongue, going quiet for a second. “Pain can make us look past what’s important; I know this better than most. But I know you will do the right thing; I feel a strong woman rising beneath this frightened little girl before me.”
“I’m not so sure there’s anything strong about me.”
“That’s because, right now, your grief is consuming, and I—” he closed his lips first before speaking again, “—I imagine you must be plagued with confusion, for grieving Jason, also.”
I drew a quick intake of breath.
“Your spirit bind was not physical, I assume—since it was a dream?”
I shook my head.
“But still just as strong,” he said, nodding. “Your love for David must have been something very special—to have survived a spirit bind. I’ve not heard of it before.”
I smiled up at Arthur. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Perhaps—” his gaze narrowed, “—with your strength gaining every day, now, being that Lilithians and vampires are not bound by these ties, it will fade, in time.”
“I hope so. My mind believes it loves Mike, too—since Jason pretended to be him.”
“How fascinating.” He touched his chin.
“No, it’s devastating. Mike deserves to be happy, but he’ll never move on while I tie him to me with my heart.”
“You are a good person, my young princess. You have much empathy and compassion,” Arthur said, “your spirit does not want, and your heart does not suffer greed. You will be a great queen.”
“I wish everyone would stop saying that. I’m not ready to lead people.”
“No, of course not. My lady, these things take time. For now, though, we need to keep you safe, develop your powers.”
“What powers will I have?”
“Everyone is different.” His eyes radiated kindness, as if he were talking to a small child. “I have the power of physical manipulation, David and Jason had the mind—”
“Why did you tell me about him,” I cut in. “About Jason and the blood oath? Do you expect me to forgive him?”
“Not forgive him, my dear, but when you lay awake at night, crying for what he did to you—” he touched my face; I forced myself not to turn away, “—I want you to know that he was always in more pain, that he never intended to live with what he did to you. He knew death was his only option when all was said and done.”
“I’m glad he’s dead.” I folded my arms.
Arthur looked down at the ground between his feet. “Despite your hatred for him, I loved him. He was my son. David was my son. And now, I have lost them both.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Amara. It’s this blood feud.” He slammed a fist into his open palm. “This started before my boys’ time, and yet it tore them apart, forced me to break a promise to my dying bother that I would not turn his descendants unless it was to save their lives. He would look down on me in scorn for knowing it was that decision that took it from them.”
“It’s not your fault, either, Arthur. If you hadn’t turned them, they’d have been dead in the war.”
“This is true.” He looked, thoughtful, to the day above. “It is immensely unjust that all of you have fallen victim to this war, and I want it to stop. I want peace,” he said. “You can bring that. You can bring order to our society. Think how many lives you will save, Amara, by ridding the world of Drake.”
“It’s a big responsibility, Arthur,” I said in a low voice.
“One you do not have to bear alone.”
“But, who do I trust? I mean, I always make mistakes, trust people I shouldn’t.”
Arthur leaned over and lifted my face again, seeking the eye contact he so constantly desired. “The child you were to have with my son would have had the power to free the Immortal Damned—to free me. I want this nightmare to end.” He nodded to the lake where children ran by with buckets and spades. “I wanted that life. So many o
f us do. And I know you do not trust me, but why would I sabotage the one chance I had at escaping from this, just to see the girl my dead son loved be hurt? I’m a prisoner, Amara. I am bound to the Council for all eternity.”
“David left the Council? Why can’t you?”
“David was sentenced to a life of torture for leaving,” he said sternly. “I don’t want to be hunted. I want a family, a life, and one day, to die. The peace of an eternity in Heaven is a dream I had long forgot. I want that.” He held out his arms, showing the clear veins. “Not this.”
“Oh.”
Arthur looked at the sky again then. “I can help you, my dear. This nightmare must end—only you can free us.”
I scoffed, grinning. “That’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”
He let out a breath through a smile and looked back at me. “No more than having a conversation with a vampire.”
I laughed softly when he flashed his bright white fangs. He seemed so young, with a special kind of energy around him, which made me want to tell him all my problems and spend the day laughing about how silly it all seemed. “Thanks, Arthur.”
“For what, my dear?”
“For making me smile. It’s not so easy lately.”
He bowed his head. “It is an honour.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes then, watching spring burst to life in the gardens and trees around the lake.
“Amara?”
“Yes, Arthur?”
“Will you accept me as your friend and counsel?”
I nodded. “I will, but…suspiciously.”
“Guilty until proven innocent, huh?” He smiled.
“Something like that.”
“Well, I can live with that, for now.” We stood up, and he took both my hands, kissing one, then the other. ‘‘I must bid you adieu.”
I nodded.
“David was a lucky man, to have held you for even a breath. I know your beautiful face brought him a kind of joy he had never imagined before.”
I lowered my chin; Arthur smiled lovingly.
“Thank you, Arthur. That means a lot to me.”
“Farewell, my dear. I will keep the memory of your smile in my heart while I am away.” He rested his hand over his chest and bowed. “I hope that when we next meet, it shall be under happier tidings.”
“Arthur,” I called as he turned away.
“Yes, my dear?”
“Please?” I walked up to him and stared into his face. “Straight up, okay, no lies. Are you really on our side?”
His eyes focused then softened. “Yes.”
I watched for the same hint of lies David always showed. Nothing. “And, Jason? He really—he didn’t want to hurt me?”
“Not you. What you are, according to his blood oath, but never you—never the girl he was in love with.”
My throat went dry.
“I shall see you soon, Amara.” Arthur stroked my face once, then disappeared.
The hard ground felt infinitely empty with his words and truths lingering in the space behind him.
Jason didn’t want to hurt me? Oh, God. I folded over, clutching my stomach; he gave me the chance to kill him—to break the spirit bind, and I refused.
Before the tears flooded my cheeks, Mike materialised behind me, his arms around my shoulders, clutching his wrists over my chest as I stood up again. “You okay?”
“Did you—did you hear?” I sobbed.
“Yes, baby.” He kissed my head. “We all heard it—all of it.”
“Did—did David?”
“Yes, he was listening, too.” Mike turned me to face him and rested his hands on my shoulders—keeping me at arms-length. “Morgaine wants to see you.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” I wiped my nose on my wrist. “I just need to calm down first.”
“Okay, take your time?” He went to walk away.
“Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“When were you planning to tell me you’re leaving, to go to this…Loslethal place, or whatever it is?”
He chuckled softly. “It’s Loslilian Manor. I uh—I’m heading out there early to train new recruits and get to know the landscape before we send for you.”
“So you’re leaving me—alone?”
“No, Ara. Not alone.” Mike stepped closer, but stopped a step away. “Emily’s staying here. I’ll come back a few days a week to train you, and when you’re full strength, we’ll move you out to Loslilian with me.”
“What about David?”
“He has to stay here.” Mike nodded once. “Even when you leave, Ara, we have to maintain, to everyone except this small circle, that David’s dead.”
I nodded, half shrugging. “Okay. But if you think you’ve got a hope in hell of getting me to leave him, you’re delusional.”
Mike’s brows rose, dragging a conceited smile with them. “You, my spoiled little princess, will do as you’re told.”
I huffed, wedging my hands on my hips.
“It’s not just about you anymore, Ara. Look, it won’t be long. David can come to Loslilian when we capture Drake.”
“Fine. But I’m at least staying until he gets better.”
“We’ll see.” Mike folded his arms, then looked down, chewing the inside of his lip. “So, when were you going to tell me about the spirit bind?”
“Mike?” I rolled my head to the side.
He stood back and shook his head, his fist over his heart; “This is not a spirit bind, Ara—it’s not. I love you. I always have. Always will.”
“I know, but I—”
“But you don’t love me?” He nodded, his Australian accent slipping back into place.
I shook my head. “Not real love.”
Mike walked backward, one step at a time. “Right. Got it.”
I let him take the heartbreak—let him walk across the road with it, a slightly hunched, sweeping step as he pinched the bridge of his nose, not looking back. He needed to hurt; he needed to feel like I’d moved on in order to find that peace himself.
I waited until he closed the front door, then plonked down on the park bench. I hadn’t counted on him finding out about the bind—especially not like that.
A cold calm blanketed the lakeside park. All the children had run home, leaving buckets and spades behind, the birds quietened in the trees and parents walking with prams all disappeared. It was just me and a steely breeze. And a distant bark of a dog. I spun around to a deep, laboured panting, and my heart jolted, seeing a broad, sturdy husky on the grass behind me. “Petey?”
He stared up at me, his tongue hanging out over his white fur.
“Petey, is that you?”
The dog whimpered, shuffling forward a little.
“Well, come here, boy?” I patted my lap, losing air to the sudden mix of dog fur in my mouth and his heavy paws on my thighs, like he was some kind of puppy that could actually fit on my lap. “What are you doing here—how did you find me?” Surely, he didn’t sniff me out. I looked around the park. Maybe he’s been here before—with Jason. “Are you all alone now, Petey?” I asked, tugging the fur on his neck to get his wet, dog-scented tongue off my face.
Petey sat back on his hindquarters and whimpered.
“Do you need somewhere to live?” I looked deep into his pale-blue eyes.
Petey shook his head, his entire body following as if he were shaking off a flea itch.
“So, are you just…checking up on me?”
A high-pitched whine sounded from the back of his throat and he nudged my chin with his slimy nose.
“I’m okay, Petey. I mean, I’m not, but I will be—when David is.”
The dog slumped heavily against me, and I rested my arms over him for a minute. Somehow, the world didn’t seem so restless and empty with Petey beside me.
They say dog is man’s best friend, but I think, for this girl, right now, he might just be exactly what I need; a companion—one that doesn’t want my heart, my body or my s
oul. One I can tell all my deepest thoughts and nightmares, and never have to fear judgement or that round-eyed-pity-stare I get from those who love me.
“Petey?” I said; the dog looked up at me. “I think you and I need to have nice long talk—somewhere far away from here.”
Chapter 27
“So, Ara did a good job with Arthur the other day. He’s totally convinced David’s dead,” Morgaine said to an unidentified ear, somewhere in the kitchen.
I listened more carefully for the other voice as I sat on the floor beside David’s bed.
“Yes,” Morgaine continued. “Mike went back to Loslilian this morning. He’ll start phase two of Ara’s training on the weekend.”
Okay, she must be on the phone.
“Yes, I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”
My ears pricked. Happy to see who? This sensitive hearing thing is growing on me, but I wish I could magically prod people as well, and tell them to shut up. Last thing I need is visitors. I looked at David, wishing he’d regain consciousness so we could just run away together.
“Come in,” I said quietly when someone knocked.
“Hey.”
“Eric,” I beamed. “Hi.”
“Hello, Amara.” He grinned widely and sat cross-legged on the floor beside me.
“Was that you on the phone with Morgaine?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get here so fast?”
Eric paused, a half grin on his lips. “You’re not serious are you? Really.” He shook his head. “Mike needs to teach you how to run properly.”
“He did. Guess I just didn’t really think of that.”
“So, how is he?” Eric looked at David.
I shook my head. “Not so good. I slit my wrist every few hours and coat him in blood, and Emily’s been robbing the local hospital to get human stuff, but he can’t open his eyes, he, I mean—” I let out a breath and sniffed it back in so as not to cry, “—he doesn’t even have eyelids.”
“I’m sorry, Amara.” Eric reached over and laid a red rose on the bedside table; the soft scent brought a feeling of familiarity to my otherwise dark day. “If I could trade places—”
