by A. M. Hudson
“No. She kissed me. She…she gave me her heart.” Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper, then held it up.
David snatched it; his eyes narrowed as he looked at the heart-shaped cut-out. “Dearest Jason,” he read. “You are a stinky poo, and I hate you.”
“It doesn’t say that.” Jason launched to his feet and shoved David, who barely shuffled back.
“I am writing you this note,” David continued, laughing, “to tell you I like your brother more than you.”
As Jason reached for it again, David held it above his head and bounced around the field. “Give it back, David.” Jason jumped up, stretching himself tall to grab the note, but David was too quick. “Give it to me.”
“No. Not unless you promise to stay away from her.”
“Why?”
“Because she doesn’t like you—she told me you’re the demon child, asked me to keep you away.”
“That’s not true,” Jason said, looking down at his feet, his fists falling loose.
“Promise to stay away from her, and you can have your forged note back.”
“It’s not forged.”
“Promise.” David held the edges between his fingers and made a small rip.
“No!” Jason edged forward—his hand extended. “Please. Don’t.”
“Promise to stay away from her, then.”
“Okay,” Jason said in earnest, stepping closer.
“Promise.” David made another very small tear.
“Okay. I—I promise.”
“Good.” Just as Jason’s fingers touched the note, David drew it away and ripped it in half.
“No!”
“Stay away from her.” David made confetti of the heart, then sprinkled the remains in front of his brother’s feet. “She’s mine!”
Jason, with shaking fingers, dropped to his knees and picked each tiny square up, holding them in his open palm. We both looked up at David as he strolled away.
“Oh, Jason.” I closed my eyes…
…They opened again to Mike’s room, but the burn of pity in my soul stayed hot in my blood.
“Hey.”
I jumped to my knees and smiled down at David. “Hey? You talked!”
“Had to...” his voice came out crackly, “…say something.”
“You don’t sound like you. Are you okay, do you feel okay, can I get you anything?”
With his chin now separated from the infusion of skin that held it down a few days ago, he shook his head. “Tell me…” he breathed through obvious pain, “…something.”
“Anything.”
“How do you…” he coughed, rolling his face away for a second, “…feel—about Jason?”
“Jason?”
David waited. I had no idea what he meant, and couldn’t really expect him to elaborate considering how much agony those few words put him through. “Did you…did you see my dream just now?”
His eyes narrowed, confusion within.
“Then, I don’t really know what you mean. Um.” I looked down at my hands, splayed out on the sheets just beside his arm. “Do you mean how do I feel about him hurting me, or about how Arthur said Jason was actually doing it to save me?”
David nodded.
“Both?”
He nodded again.
“To be honest, David, I haven’t had time to think about it. I mean, you should know—you’re always listening to my head.”
He shook his.
“What?”
“Can’t hear.”
“What, at all now?”
He shook his head again.
Can you now?
David didn’t move.
“Is that…because I’m becoming stronger—my vampirism?”
His eyes warmed.
“But I—I want you to hear my thoughts,” my voice quavered. “I’ll miss it if you can’t.”
He reached across and I softly wrapped my fingers around his—the fingers that had been left untouched by flames. The healing had spread out around that hand, more resembling a human than any other part of his body.
“Can you still hear Emily?” I asked.
His head moved once in a nod.
So, it’s me, not him.
“Ara,” he whispered, “answer…question.”
Oh. Um. “I don’t know how to feel about Jason, because…” My lip trembled.
“Because?”
“Because a part of me does feel sorry for him. A part of me is sad that he’s dead—that that was his fate. But the common sense part of me is disgusted I can feel that way.”
David’s eyes glistened, liquid with restrained tears.
“Are you sad? That’s he’s dead?” I asked.
He swallowed.
“It’s horrible—what happened to him—the way he died.” I stared ahead.
David nodded, scrunching a fist above his heart; his tight skin pulled over the new flesh.
“It hurts?” I asked. “In your heart?”
He nodded.
“Is it true—about the blood oath?”
“Unyielding,” David murmured, struggling to breathe as well as speak. “Didn’t know he’d done that.”
“It hurts you that he did?”
“My fault,” he rasped, tapping his chest. “If I’d helped him with the…with the…” he coughed, rolling up off his back a little.
“David, just rest.” I laid him back. “We can talk later.”
“No. Now.”
I held his hand tight as he caught his breath, wheezing and gasping under an external calm. “You okay?”
“Better,” he said, swallowing whatever he’d coughed up.
“Do you need a drink?”
“No.” His voice sounded clearer. “If I’d helped him with the law, he wouldn’t have needed to join the Council.”
“With the law? Do you mean the human-relations law—so he could be with Emily?”
David nodded.
“I’m sorry, David.” I breathed out, shaking my head. “I’m sorry this all happened.”
“Not. More. Than. I,” the whisper came from his lips, sounding like wind through a grater again.
“Sleep.” I kissed the tip of his good finger. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better.”
David was given no choice; his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and the loneliness of my constant isolation took hold of the room once more.
“Hey, there’s a face I haven’t seen for a while.” Eric grabbed me and spun me onto his lap at the dining table.
“Yeah, hi guys.” I rubbed my eyes and tried to tidy my hair a little. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for this scary-vampire-head to come out in the daylight.”
Mike and Morgaine rolled their eyes, but at least Eric and Emily laughed—a little. “How’s the man?” Eric asked.
“He’s good. His hair’s growing back a little.”
“Good.” Morgaine smiled. “Because we want our princess back. We need to start creating this army, Amara. I have a thousand men waiting to be bitten.”
“A thousand?” I moaned. “Humans?”
Eric stiffened under me.
“Yeah. Why? What’s wrong?” Morgaine said, and we both looked at Eric’s pale face.
“Morg,” Eric said, “human blood burns Ara.”
“It does?”
“Yes.” I dropped my head into my hands. “This is gonna be hard.”
Morgaine looked at Mike who looked at Eric, then, they all looked at me.
“It’s okay, Ara. We can find another way.” Mike reached across the table and took my hand.
“There is no other way,” Morgaine said.
“But, I’ve been extracting venom for the sword-tipping,” Mike said, “can’t we just use that?”
“Wait!” I jerked forward. “You’ve been extracting venom—from yourself?”
“Yes.” Mike looked down.
“But. Why, Mike, it’s really painful?”
“I’m fine, baby.”<
br />
“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Morgaine said. “You can’t create a vampire of any sort with a syringe of venom—it doesn’t work that way.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Try it—we don’t know. It just doesn’t.”
“But biting them will?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“That’s it? Just a bite?”
“Yes, Amara. What’s your point?” Morgaine asked.
“How come Lilithians change so easily, yet turning a human to a vampire is some great secret?”
“We’re a different species. Lilithians are pure of heart and soul. But vampires?” She shrugged at Eric. “They’re parasites. It’s natures pest control, I guess.”
“It’s nature’s way of keeping only the best in a small class. We wouldn’t be special if there were thousands of us,” Eric said. “Like there will be of your kind, once you’ve sunk your teeth into the issue at hand, no pun intended.”
I sighed. “A thousand is a big army, Morgaine. I can’t bite them all in one day. I’ll need time.”
“Well, then, with all due respect, Majesty, we need to get a move on. Word has it Drake plans to attack while we’re weak. We need to get to him first.”
“He thinks I’m dead, doesn’t he? Why would he attack?” I stole my hand from Mike’s and left it on the table.
“This time, it’s not you he’s after. It’s us—the Lilithian people. We dared to go against him, and now we have to pay. Plus, he wants Loslilian manor back.”
“Why?”
“Because the forest surrounding it guards the stone of truth.”
“Guards it?”
“It’s said to be—” Mike cleared his throat. “Enchanted.”
“The forest?”
“Yes.”
Why am I not surprised? “Okay, so what’s the plan—how do we evade attack?”
“With an army. We’re already training them—we just need them changed. They’ve been suited up, and—”
“Suited up?” I interrupted Morgaine.
“Yeah, uniforms.” Mike grinned, raising his brows a few times.
“They have uniforms?”
“Have done for the last few thousand years,” Morgaine said.
“Cool. Sorry.” I smiled sheepishly. “Continue.”
“So, the army awaits transformation; once that’s been done—”
“The real training begins.” Mike’s face lit with a wide, eager grin.
“What then? When they’re ready, what’d we do about Drake?”
“Well, the only thing we can do—turn his people against him one by one, then invade La Château de la Mort, capture him and hold him prisoner until the catalyst arrives.”
“By catalyst, you mean my child?” I stiffened.
“Yes.”
“So, I have to have a baby sometime in the next year or so, teach it to kill before it can walk, then, if I’ve done my job as a teen mum, my daughter will grow up without fear of death by the evil villain and hopefully make her parents proud by becoming a big bad vampire killer?” I looked around at all of them. “I’m not ready for a baby.”
“Amara. A baby is the least of your worries right now,” Morgaine said. “We have to remove Drake from the World Council; he’ll exterminate every one of us. You can’t just sit by and let that happen—we have to fight.”
“We will fight.” I leaned back against Eric; he placed his hands over mine, on my belly. “I just don’t think it’s a very good plan. I mean, is it only the child that can kill him? And when can it do that? When will it be powerful enough?”
“We don’t know.” Morgaine shook her head. “We can’t properly interoperate the scrolls, because all the old world translators were killed in the war on Lilith—and most of the scrolls were destroyed when the vampires took over Loslilian.”
“So, you don’t know what the prophecy truly speaks of? I may not even be meant to have a child?”
Morgaine laughed and waved her hand. “That much is translatable; it’s the section regarding the child we can’t decipher, because that part doesn’t exist. We only know that she brings the change which will see Drake destroyed—and that she will have great power.”
“So, we’re gonna go in there, catch ourselves a nice, juicy vampire, store him in a cell for fifteen or so years, until my child, who is not even conceived, or known to be possible to conceive, is born, then we’re gonna thaw him out and kill him?”
Everyone looked at their hands.
“That’s the plan.” Morgaine winced.
“Then we need a better plan.” I slammed the palm of irritation onto the table.
“Amara, all that matters is destroying Drake. How ever we do that. Child or not.”
“Can’t we reason with him?”
They all looked at me and burst out laughing, including Eric who at least covered his mouth first.
“A reasonable Council member?” Morgaine chortled.
“Yeah, maybe we can have them over for a cuppa,” Mike added, “Ask his mummy to tell him not pick on us anymore.”
“Fine.” I stood up. “Laugh—all of you, but you’ll see. I’m going to find a way to win this war. Not every conflict needs to end in destruction.” The smiles dropped from their faces.
“It does when you’re dealing with guys like Drake,” Mike said.
“How do you know? Has anyone tried talking it out with him—ever?”
“Princess Amara, he’s evil. There is no talking to him.”
“You don’t know that, Morgaine—maybe he just needs to learn that kindness can win more hearts than cruelty.” I stood up and stormed out of the house, leaving my small council with their mouths gaping.
The steam of my temper trailed behind, forming a cloud of hopelessness as I stopped by the lake across the road. The cool breeze brushed my hair back behind me and I rolled my face upward, casting my sombre gaze to the stars. So many times I’d wished on them, so many times I cried for my dreams failing, but I finally had the one thing I asked for, well, the two things: immortality and David. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. How does a girl, fresh out of high school, become a queen? I can’t even keep my room tidy, now they want me to capture and kill a man who can rip a human apart with his bare hands?
A high-pitched whimper snapped me from my bubble of reflection; I looked down to the warm, fluffy life form by my leg. “Hey, boy.”
The dog nudged me with the brow of his nose.
“Yeah, I’m sad, boy. I just don’t think any of them get it. I’ve never been one for the whole murder thing, so, I don’t know…maybe I’m wrong, but killing Drake doesn’t seem to make us any better than he is, right?” I squatted down and ruffled my fingers between his ears. “Where do we draw the line?”
“What was that all about?”
I jumped to my feet and swiped tears from my cheeks as Mike stormed across the road. He was so much bigger now, his shirts tight across his chest, growing with the strength of immortality; I’d be scared of him if I didn’t know he was such a marshmallow.
“What was what all about?”
Petey leaned against my leg, half sitting on my foot.
“That little speech about kindness winning hearts?”
I turned away from him and shook my head.
“Is this about Jason?”
“Leave Jason out of this.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t catch on, Ara?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I’m not stupid, baby.” The heat came off his body as he stood closer, right behind me. “I know you have some messed up delusion that he was good—deep down inside or some bullshit like that.”
“So what if I do?” I folded my arms and headed for the house.
“No.” Mike grabbed my arm; “I’m not doing this with you again. You forgave him once. You trusted him—and look what he did to you.”
I jerked out of his grip. “How I feel is none of your business.”
“
Yes, it is, Ara,” he yelled, then softened. “You too easily forgive—it’s your greatest asset, but could also be your downfall. It’s my job, as your friend, to save you from yourself. You have to let this go.”
“I am letting it go, Mike.” I folded my arms over my chest. “But Jason wasn’t bad. He just got hurt—made a few wrong choices, and lost his life for it.”
“We all make choices, Ara,” he reasoned, “and it’s what we choose to do in those moments that defines us.”
“You don’t know anything.” I turned away again.
“Yes, I do. I heard Arthur.” He spun me around. “I heard about the blood oath—Ara, who cares? He hurt you, and it can only take a monster to do that to a sweet, beautiful thing like you. If you forgive every person that walks in with a good reason to hurt you, you could be jeopardising many lives, baby. You have the responsibility of a nation in your hands now.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not now—soon. But not now.”
“Do you see any other queens around here?” Mike yelled, looking around. “Do you see anyone making decisions for our people?”
I rolled my chin to my chest with a soft sigh.
“The time is now, Amara.” He stepped into me and thrust my chin up with his finger. “You have to take your place as queen, and you have to start thinking like one.”
“Amara?” I smiled.
“Sorry. That’s what they all call you. Guess it’s rubbing off.”
“Mike, don’t worry about me, okay?” I breathed out and stepped back. “I’ll do what they want me to do. I’ll be their queen, and I’m not going to forgive and befriend every monster that kicks me. But when it comes to Jason?” I searched my mind for the words. “He’s complicated.”
“It’s not complicated, Ara. He hurt you—you don’t forgive that,” Mike stated.
“If only it were that simple in my heart.” I turned away, ashamed of my own feelings.
“It is.” Mike placed his hands on my arms from behind. “You use the memory of that pain to change the way you feel.”
“No. It doesn’t change things, and it doesn’t change the fact that, while I’m trying to deal with all of this in my mind, there’s something worse out there—waiting to destroy everyone I love.” I looked down.
“You don’t need to be scared baby.” He squeezed me tighter, then gently turned my shoulders until I faced him. “You know I’ll protect you.”
