The Heart's Ashes

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The Heart's Ashes Page 60

by A. M. Hudson


  “I know.” I smiled. “But I’m not afraid of getting hurt. I’m afraid of failing—of not being the queen the Lilithians need.”

  “Aw.” Mike hugged me tightly. “Baby, the fact that you feel that way just shows your strength. You won’t let them down, because it matters to you; it’s your obligation and your hope to serve them well.”

  “I hope you’re right, Mike,” I said with a sigh. “Like you said, I have the responsibility of a nation in my hands.”

  Chapter 29

  Petey sat by the front door with an irritated Mike a few steps away from him, dog lead in hand. “Petey,” Mike said, “you have to wear this. It’s against the law to walk a dog without a lead.”

  Petey shook his head, followed by the rest of his body, and sat down with his pink tongue hanging out.

  “Petey?” I put my hands on my hips and stared down at him. “Do you want to go for a run with Mike?”

  He yawned, a high-pitched whine seeping out as he slumped down and flopped onto his side.

  “Fine.” Mike put the lead on the table by the door. “I’ll go by myself.”

  “Are you running human style, or—”

  “Depends.” He looked back at me with a glint in his eye. “Will you come with me if I run Lilithian style?”

  “You know what, I just might.” I looked down. “These shoes’ll do for running, yeah?”

  “Meh.” Mike shrugged. “They’ll do. Just keep those laces done up.”

  “Oh, right.” I bent down to tie the lace, and when I looked up at the door, Petey sat with the lead in his mouth, his head cocked.

  “Petey.” I took the lead away. “You can’t run as fast as we can—you have to stay here.”

  He whined and dropped to his front paws, his hind legs following.

  “Too late, mate, you had your chance.” Mike pointed at him, sounding very Australian all of a sudden.

  Petey huffed, his ears folding back slightly.

  “Come on.” Mike grinned and took my hand. “I’ll race you to the lake.”

  “Click your fingers—I’ll be there before you finish.”

  After an hour running, we huffed over to the park bench and I propped my foot up to tie my shoelace—again. “What?” I asked Mike when he folded his arms, shaking his head.

  “I’m gonna miss you when I go back to the manor.”

  “Yeah—I always miss you when you go.” I put both feet back on the ground.

  “But it’s different this time.” He scratched the back of his head. “I won’t see you again ‘til I pick you up in a few weeks.”

  “Well, just think, I’ll be at the manor by summer, then you won’t have to miss me ever again.”

  Mike linked his arm through mine and we walked toward the edge of the lake. “You’re getting faster,” he noted, but looked at my sweaty brow. “And I saw you practicing friction manipulation the other day. You did things you haven’t shown me yet.”

  “Yeah. I figured out a few tricks. I’ll show you later.” I let out a deep breath. “I just wish I could magically heal my husband, though. You never get the power you want.” I clicked my fingers once and shook my head.

  Mike dropped a quick kiss on my brow then went to sit on the park bench. “He’ll heal. Emily’s using some herb, isn’t she? Some super-healing thing?”

  “Uh yeah, it’s just Wild Indigo. But it’s supposed to promote rapid cell re-production in vampires. She says that, mixed with vampire blood, it can have amazing effects.”

  Mike nodded. “You do understand, don’t you, that he won’t be able to come to the manor for some time—even when he heals? People have to bel—”

  “I know, I know. They have to believe he’s dead.” I groaned. “I know. What I don’t know is how I’m going to survive without him?”

  “You have me.” Mike flashed a mischievous smirk.

  “Yeah, I know.” You’ve always been my consolation.

  “And Emily will take good care of him while we’re gone. It won’t be long ‘til the Knight’s Core is complete, and once that happens, it’s only a matter of time before we catch ourselves a big bad vampire. Then David can announce himself as king.”

  “Yeah—it’s the catching Drake thing I’m worried about.”

  “Wait ‘til you meet the knights. You’ll see. There’s no need to worry at all. Some of them—the original knights—are really cool. I, personally, cannot wait to go after Drake. Maybe he can give us a real fight.” Mike clasped his fingers together and flexed them outward, grinning wildly.

  “Don’t be an advocate for war, Mike. I’m still not sure killing Drake is the best option.”

  “Of course you’re not, baby, you’re a little girl. You can’t understand the difference between doing what’s wrong for good and doing what’s stupid for a misinformed idea of what’s virtuous.”

  I sat quietly for a minute. “You know, I’ll be queen in a few weeks, then you can’t speak to me like that anymore, Mike.”

  He bumped me with his elbow, smirking wider. “I still will.”

  The soft rising and falling of David’s chest soothed the emptiness in my heart for the absence of his mind from this world. I’d never take his breath, his words, or his smile for granted, ever again.

  I sat on the edge of his bed and stroked my thumb over his newly-grown eyebrow. From the outside, aside from looking a little sunburnt, he was otherwise perfect—the old David. But, inside, he was still raw and grated. Morgaine said he’d probably look something like a saucy cheese pizza. Consequently, I haven’t been able to eat pizza since then.

  In some ways, despite him still being in so much pain, I was glad he’d healed on the outside, because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on seeing him like that.

  “Happy six week anniversary, David,” I whispered softly and kissed his forehead—my lips barely touching his skin.

  “Ara.”

  A hand grabbed mine, and my lips froze above his face. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No. I just needed to touch you.” His voice sounded clearer today. “You always run away so quickly.”

  “I’m sorry. I just thought I was hurting you.”

  “Not at all.” One corner of his mouth pulled up into a smile, his skin still too dry to show his dimple.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  “Are you hungry?” I held out my wrist.

  “Yes.”

  “Eat.”

  He hesitated, looking back at my eyes. “You haven’t had my blood—will you be immune to my venom?”

  “Why? Do you want to bite today?” My tone peaked with excitement. “Are you feeling well enough?”

  “I think so.” He touched his neck. “My throat burns for the bite. I just...don’t know if I can use my teeth anymore.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” I grinned wildly.

  He shook his head, still holding my arm.

  I wish he would bite me. I miss his bite, his touch—I miss lying with him, feeling his arms around my shoulders, his lips on my neck. “I miss you,” I said.

  He titled his head a little, his smile poorly concealing sympathy. “I’m not going anywhere—ever again.”

  “I know.” I bit my lip, considering the colour in his eyes, how, a second ago it was bright green, but for every breath he tried be normal, the colour faded, became murky. “You look so tired, so pale.”

  “I won’t for long.” He smiled, the warmth lighting the corners of his lips.

  I pressed my thumb to where his dimple should be. “I have to go out for a bit longer today.”

  “Training?”

  “Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Mike wants to teach me how to manipulate the elements—because apparently he’s mastered it. Never mind that he burst a water main the other day, practicing.”

  He laughed breathily through his nose. “You know it took me nearly twenty years to master that.”

  “Mike’s had Morgaine to teach him.”

 
“She’s a good teacher.”

  “Yeah. She’s been my Lilithian politics and history teacher, too.”

  “I know. I’ve been listening. But you haven’t.”

  I sat quiet for a moment. “It’s boring. I hate politics, David. Half the time I feel like I’m falling asleep.”

  “No matter, you need to learn this stuff, Ara. The past will form the foundations for decisions about the future.”

  “You sound like Mike.”

  David chuckled. “How is he—Mike?”

  “You know him; he’s in his element with all this knight business. He was born for this stuff.” I sat taller, grinning.

  David, struggling to contain a cough, rolled slightly onto his side, doing well to hide his pain from me. “He doesn’t come to see me.”

  “He’s busy with the knights.”

  “No. He blames himself for this.” He motioned down his body. “He tried to convince us the plan would fail.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes. Said it was ludicrous, to think for one second, that you’d actually kill me.”

  My gut wrenched.

  He moved quickly to grab my hand. “Not because of how much you love me, mon amour, because he thought you wouldn’t have the strength—the courage.”

  “Then he doesn’t know me very well.”

  “No one but me does.” David looked at the roof for a second, lifting his hips to reposition himself. “The Knights—have you started—?”

  “Turning them?” I shook my head. “Not yet. Mike wants me to at least be able to defend myself before I go into a room of dangerous men.”

  “Typical.” David grinned.

  “Yeah. He’s right, though. If Drake had a mole in there, it could be bad.”

  “For them—” David’s voice grated out through his lips this time. “Mike will—” He rolled slightly and coughed, trying to catch his breath.

  “Shh, don’t speak, David.” I touched his chest. “Rest now. We have plenty of time.”

  With a deep, laboured breath, he turned his head and closed his eyes. I reached across and gently brushed wisps of his thick, wavy hair away from his forehead.

  “Ara?” Mike tapped on the door.

  “Hey, Mike.”

  “Hey. Training. Now. I gotta leave for the manor a bit earlier than planned.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure. I’ll just give David some blood, then I’ll be there.”

  “Okay. Five minutes. Max.”

  “Got it.” I saluted him then turned back to David, rolling my sleeve. “David?”

  He roused from sleep long enough to watch me dig into my vein. It still felt weird to openly cut myself; to just dig my nail in and press until blood spilled out; something about it felt so wrong, kind of scary.

  My heart jumped into my throat as a pair of ice-cold fingers shot up and grabbed my wrist. Before the breath even left my lips in a gasp, David planted my stinging arm to his mouth and sucked hard—closing his eyes, losing himself to the pleasure of my blood.

  “You’re getting stronger.” I winced, my arm tensing with the throb of his bite. His touch, combined with the smooth circles of his tongue over my flesh, made my blood run hot inside.

  Regrettably, it clotted under his grasp before he seemed satisfied, but he grinned and muttered in a smooth voice as he turned his head, “The vampire is returning.”

  Breathing the moist, warm air of the lake—our secret lake—I watched the sunlight filter through a gap in the leaves along the trail, making yellow patterns as it spilled onto the leafy floor. Out here, away from ears of various breeds of vampire, away from eyes, watching me train, it was easier to practice my new skills, but also harder to forget David—which, funnily enough, made the practicing easier too.

  With a long sigh, I held my hand out in front of me and frayed my fingers in the sunlight. My skin looked pretty, almost transparent—kind of glowing pink. For the tingling in my fingertips, though, a sensation so constant now, I expected to see bursts of electricity rising off my hands. But they just looked ultimately plain and human.

  “Petey?” I said, looking down at him by the base of the rock. “Wanna see something cool?”

  He stood up, his eyes on the lake, following the aim of my hand. As I rubbed my fingertips together, heating them with friction, a small blue light flickered around my nails. I rubbed faster, holding my breath when the rise of energy flooded through my arm, like an injection of sizzling air. It built up to an almost unbearable sting, drawing a tight ache deep within the back of my skull.

  It’s ready.

  With a flick of my hand toward the lake, the light disappeared. Then, without any sign of affect, a ball of fluid shot up out of the water, as high as the trees, and fizzled into steam before evaporating into the atmosphere. “Cool, huh?” I folded my arm back around my knees, blinking off the niggling headache over my left eye.

  Petey barked and ran to the edge of the lake, coming back with a fish in his mouth.

  “Oops.” I shrunk my neck into my shoulders a little. “Is it dead?”

  He dropped the lifeless form onto the ground and sat by it, licking his chops.

  “Wait, you’re not going to eat that, are you?”

  He pawed it, shoving it away a little.

  “Good dog.”

  In my pocket, my phone buzzed for the tenth time. I pulled it out, slid my thumb across the touchscreen, then rolled my eyes and replied: Yes, Vicki. Having fun. Paris is great. Tell Dad I’ll call soon.

  Only, I won’t call. I don’t want to hear Dad’s voice right now because I know I can’t hide the pain in mine. I never could hide that from him. No one else noticed it, or maybe they just didn’t want to know—couldn’t bear for me to talk about what Jason did to me now that I seemed to have just ‘gotten over it’. And I guess, in a small way, I feel the same. If it’s unsaid—it never happened.

  But that doesn’t change the fact that it did.

  My phone vibrated again; Dad in NY. Conference.

  Oh yeah, the Artefact Conference; some museum-get-together for old guys who love history. I texted back: musta forgot it was May, then switched my phone off and dumped it in the pocket of my shorts behind a many-times folded piece of paper.

  Petey nudged me, his paws on the rock, his hind legs extended.

  “What is it, boy?”

  He sniffed at my pocket; I pulled out the letter. “You want to see this?”

  He sat down.

  “Do you want me to read it out?”

  His answering wine was probably a yes.

  “Okay.” I cleared my throat, working up my best formal-speaking-ancient-vampire accent; “Dearest princess Amara. How I long to be by your side once more. The days are not blessed with the sun in this dark world, but while I keep your smile in my heart, I am blinded by the beauty I can find in each day. I will return to you in the summer, and I intend to remain by your side until happiness is a part of your life again.” I smiled, imagining Arthur at a desk, writing the note. “So, then he signed it with just, your friend, always, not Arthur, like he usually does.”

  Petey nibbled the edge of the note.

  “No, Petey. I’m keeping this one.” I folded it and put it back in my pocket. “I know I’m supposed to burn all our letters, but this one just sounds so genuine, you know. No talk of prophecies and plans. I like it. It feels like a letter from a friend.”

  Petey sat down again, huffing once.

  “I don’t care what you think, Petey, and I don’t care if Arthur gets mad at me for keeping this. I have no friends left—” I smiled at the dog when he whined, “—except you, Petey. Just…just let me keep this one, okay.”

  He looked at the lake again. I knew the conversation wasn’t over, but being that it was between me and a dog, really, I didn’t care either. Part of me wasn’t even sure the dog was real, and everything I thought he ‘said’ was all assumed and imagined. The only saving grace was that Mike could see him too; otherwise I’d think he was a figment of my imaginat
ion.

  A soft breeze swept over my face and I closed my eyes, revelling in the simplicity of the moment as the sun came out again. Petey’s soft whimper made me look back at him, and my gaze followed his to a pale stream of light in the tree line where the wind carried a pair of fluttering blue and black wings; the butterfly struggled against the breeze, coming to rest on the rock, right by my toe.

  “Look, Petey.” He sat up, and we both gazed in wonder, although, Petey was probably contemplating eating it. “She’s beautiful.”

  She fluttered her wings for a moment, then set off again, floating along until she reached the tree line once more. I watched her dancing, and smiled. I’d love to be free like that—to fly, follow the breeze wherever it might take me. But behind her beauty, the darkness of the forest revealed a figure that stole my breath as I watched, waiting for it to come closer. My cheeks froze in the half smile they wore and the tall man, walking toward me, wearing a broad smile, became more than just an illusion or a wish.

  “David?”

  “Ara.” He caught me in his grasp, nearly falling over for real with the force of my Lilithian-speed run to him.

  “David. What are you doing out of bed?” I stood back, brushing my hair from my face, and looked up at his. “You’re—you’re completely normal.”

  He smiled, stroking his thumb over my cheek once, then dropping his hand. “Yes. Emily came by this morning after you left, used some new herb and within about four hours, I could sit up again.”

  “What herb?”

  He shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Well, it’s been nearly eight weeks. It’s about damn time you got better.”

  “I’m not completely healed, though.” I noticed the hand across his waist then, the way he slightly folded over. “Em says a few more days should do it.”

  “But we only have two days left,” I whined. “I’m leaving for Loslilian, remember?”

  “I know.” His lip pulled sharply on just one corner; the smile of the boy in the library at school. My heart fluttered in rapid, tiny little pulses. “Are you okay?” he asked.

 

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