“Ara?” Emily elbowed me. “What do you think?”
Oh crud. Not again. “Um—”
“Ara and Emily!” Dad said, saving the day.
“Sorry, sir.” Emily winced.
“Ask me again later,” I said, leaning closer.
She nodded and we tuned in to Dad’s lecture.
“So,” he continued, “when God created Adam, he also created who?” He pointed his pen to the back of the room.
“Eve.”
“In some versions of the story, yes. But it’s also told that God first created a woman named Lilith. Now, she has many names in different cultures: Lilith, Kali, Satrina. She’s also known as The Snake, The Screeching Owl—” I phased out when I smelled something very similar to David’s orange-chocolate cologne, looking around as if he might be in the room.
“So, unlike her sister Eve, Lilith was not created from a piece of Adam. She was created as his equal. However, Adam would not treat her as such. He tried to force her to submit to him as he pleased, and in a stand for her own rights, Lilith left the Garden of Eden.”
“Sweet, world’s first feminist,” one of the football jocks snickered.
“I have to admit,” I whispered to Em, “this is getting kind of interesting.”
“Very sharp, Mr. Grady.” Dad paced the floor, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “At a loss now, God decided to create another woman for Adam. But this time she would be bound to Adam by the flesh.” Dad stopped and looked around. “Who knows how he did that?”
“She was created from one of Adam’s ribs or something, right?” the kid next to me said.
“That’s right. And because she was bound to him, she couldn’t…?” Dad pointed around the room, stopping on Emily.
“She couldn’t just leave?”
“Exactly. Lilith, on the other hand, believed Eve was made to be naïve—that God had not given her the knowledge of herself. Some say Lilith acted as the snake that conned Eve into tasting the Forbidden Fruit, also known as the—?”
“Fruit of Knowledge.” Emily grinned, dropping her raised hand.
“That’s right. Ten points to the students paying attention down the front here.” Dad grinned and scribbled only five lines on the top right corner of the board. “And deduct five, for my daughter, who hasn’t heard a word we’ve been saying.”
The whole class erupted into a murmur of giggles. I sunk down in my seat, staring daggers at my father.
“Now, as the story continues, Lilith, who was created in God’s likeness, lived outside the Garden of Eden. If we jump forward in the story a little”—he looked at his watch—“you’ll remember from our studies in religion last year that those in God’s likeness have the same power as the Almighty, which included immortality.
“You’ll find that, in many cases throughout history, Lilith was said to be the Goddess of Seduction and believed to have power over men. In fact,” Dad said, raising his index finger, “in many cases, when men were unfaithful, they proclaimed it to have been an act of seduction by the Goddess, and not an act of sin. Sounds like the easy way out, if you ask me.” He dramatically loosened his tie.
The class laughed, but not me. I was still mad at him for singling me out.
“Wasn’t she also said to be a demon, which ate small children?” a student asked.
“Yes, Grace.” Dad raised a brow. “That’s exactly right. There are many myths surrounding Lilith. If anyone here knows the story of Cain and Abel, you’ll know that Cain murdered his own brother and was punished by God—banished and cursed for eternity with a thirst for blood. Then, he fell in love with the Goddess Lilith.” Dad smiled at the class. “Can anyone see where I’m going with this?” He looked around; no one answered.
I shrugged when he looked at me. How would I know?
“Okay, well, it’s told that Lilith and Cain had a child—an immortal, who inherited his father’s thirst for blood. The world’s first myth about…?” He waited, his brow arched, cheeks high.
“Vampires,” said a voice from the doorway.
Quiet murmurs spread over the class, as everyone turned to look at the boy leaning on the doorframe, with his hands in his pockets.
“Very good, David, and you’re not even one of my students. And so,” Dad said as he walked over and took a note from David’s hand, “you can see that even legends of the most vile of creatures may have some religious origin.”
David looked at me and smiled. It was not returned.
“Ara?” Dad called, still reading the note.
I sat up a little and stared at David, my mind filling with questions. “Yes?”
“Go with David, please?”
All eyes in the class fell on me. I stood up slowly, jammed my books and pens into my bag then shrugged at Emily as I sauntered past, slipping out the classroom door with David behind me.
“What did you say to my dad?”
He started walking. “I told him I needed to rehearse with you for the benefit concert.”
“And he bought it?” I asked, the surprise in my voice a little too obvious.
David just laughed.
“Did you talk to your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And…” His shoulders dropped. “I have permission to talk to you about my life, Ara, and I still have to leave, but…”
“But what?”
“But, after much grovelling and bribing, he’s granted me, provisionally, the original amount of time I had left.”
“How long?”
I watched his tongue move between his lips for a second before he pressed them together. “You can count on me being gone by winter.”
Dread made my arms heavy—took all control from my body—making me angry. “Then there’s no need for us to see each other anymore.”
“Oh no you don’t.” He grabbed my wrist. “You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere else.”
“Why?”
He maintained his tight grip. “If I have to leave in a few months, I won’t waste this time we have left. There are some things I want to do with you, Ara-Rose, and I won’t let the fear that I might hurt you stop me from loving you the way I’ve needed to for so long.”
“Hurt me?” The bridge of my nose crinkled. “Why would you hurt me?”
“Just”—he pulled me along by the arm—“come on. We need to go before we get caught ditching.”
“No.” I twisted my wrist around in his grip and yanked it out through the break in his thumb and forefinger, standing fast. “Not until you tell me where we’re going.”
“You stubborn little thing,” he said quickly, taking one long stride in my direction, then he arched his body downward as he swept me off the floor and into his arms.
“Whoa.” I pinned my dress under my legs, nudging his chest with my elbow. “Put me down. This is kidnapping.”
“No, it’s not,” he stated with a smile, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. “It’s a rescue.”
“Rescue?” I scoffed. “I don’t need to be rescued.”
He stopped walking and looked down at me. I shrank into his arms a little. “You need rescuing, my stubborn little princess, just as much as I do.”
“But I’m not a princess, and I’m not in a tower.”
“You will be if you don’t come quietly.”
I huffed indignantly. He just looked forward and smiled to himself.
* * *
All the way through the forest, I pretty much walked with my teeth clenched. When we came to the rock where we usually sat, David shook his head and continued on a path we’d never walked down before.
“Where are we going?” I whined, dropping my arms to my sides. “I’m tired and it’s hot. I don’t wanna walk anymore.”
He continued ahead in his wordless state, tall and sleek, never looking back.
Argh! I felt like throwing a rock at his head.
Dav
id spun around then, his eyes alight with a humored glint. “Forget to have lunch, did we?”
“None of your business.”
“Actually, it is, because I’m the one that has to put up with your moods.”
“I’m not moody.” But I knew that was a lie.
“You’ll want to take those off.”
I looked down at my shoes. “No. Not until you tell me where we’re going.”
“Fine, leave them on.” He shrugged, then reached behind him and lifted his shirt, tugging it past the sharply cut V of muscles diving just below the waistline of his jeans. I looked back down at my feet before it came off completely.
“It’s okay, Ara,” David said, a hint of laughter in his tone. “You don’t have to look away.”
“I wasn’t looking away.”
“No, of course you weren’t.” He came to stand in front of me, the band of his Calvin Klein’s showing just under the rise of his dark jeans, his tan skin calling my eye to every inch of him. And I could look, if I wanted to.
He held my hand firmly, like he was asking me to, and when I finally braved a glance, a body I’d only ever seen on TV gobbled up my wits, destroying me in the end with that cheeky grin he was wearing.
“Something wrong, Ara?”
“I’m not blushing ’cause I think you’re hot.” I reached down and slipped off my shoes then dumped them by a rock. “You don’t affect me, David Knight.”
“I know. You’re too sensible to be knocked off your feet by a guy without a shirt.” He grinned, reaching his hand out. I stared at it. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, I walked the five-pace gap and touched his fingertips. “I don’t see why you need to take your shirt off. It’s not that hot.”
“Didn’t want it to get wet.”
“Wet?”
He nodded and led me to the cold, crisp water of the lake. “Do you see where we’re going now?”
I followed the direction of his nod. “The island?”
“Yes. There’s a sandbar that extends all the way across. It’s only as deep as”—he considered my height for a second—“probably your upper thigh.”
My breath caught in my throat as the cold water reached my knees, and my fingers involuntarily tightened around David’s. “How did you find this sandbar?” I asked. It was only wide enough for David and me to walk on side-by-side, disappearing into the depth of the lake after that.
“Well,” he chuckled as he spoke, “let’s just say I kinda stumbled over it one day. It’s the only way out to the island unless you swim—or fly.”
“Is the water deep outside the sandbar?”
He nodded once.
Above us, thin fingers of clouds patched over the sun, and a cool breeze dragged the shivers in my body to the surface. David’s jeans were soaked, the water seeping all the way up to his pockets, but not anywhere on those golden ribs or arms did I see so much as a raised hair.
“How come you’re not cold?” I demanded.
He looked down at me, then let go of my hand and wrapped his arm over my shoulder. “You are?”
I nodded.
“It’s okay, I can think of a few ways to get warm.”
I bit my lip to stop from grinning, already feeling warmer.
Under the crystal-clear water, I saw David’s feet for the first time, and smiled. It’s kinda funny how seeing someone’s feet can make them seem less mysterious; how it can make it easier to imagine them beside yours in a bed or in the kitchen while you make breakfast. But seeing his feet would only make it harder for me to cope when the winter came.
“Are you afraid?” he asked, taking my hand again.
“A little,” I said.
“Please, don’t be. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said softly.
“That’s not what I’m afraid of.” I laughed.
“Then, what is it?”
“I’m just afraid of what it’s going to feel like when you’re gone.”
He sighed, and a hint of a smile angled the corners of his mouth. “Well, it’s not goodbye, Ara. Not yet.”
I moved my shoulder in a shrug, feeling detached and outside reality.
“Can we just pretend… just for today, that I’m not leaving in a few months?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you try?”
Exhaling the crushing fear and sorrow, I nodded, trying to shove it all down for one blissful afternoon.
“Are you gonna let that get wet?” He motioned to the edges of my dress, slightly touching the water. “I won’t look if you want to lift it up a little.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, regretting it as soon as the water soaked in.
Ahead of us, a thick moss blanket smothered the base of the island. We waded through, parting it with our fingers like cheese on a pizza until the steep, muddy slopes of the banks halted us with warding trees, leaning out like diagonal spears. David curled his palm around a branch and hoisted himself onto it. I waited in the water, imagining all the slimy things that might be lurking under the sludgy stuff.
“Don’t worry.” David reached down from his perch, grinning. “The worst thing out here is me.”
“Well, in that case”—I took his hand—“maybe I should be worrying about my heart instead of my toes.”
“You just let me worry about your heart, mon amour.” He yanked me from the lake in one fluid movement, swinging me onto the sloped shore. The soil sunk and shifted into a small mound between my toes. I scrunched them together, looking up at the knitted crown of yellow and green leaves. I felt so pleasantly closed in, with low-lying shrubs and ferns at my feet, and flowering vines covering nearly every other surface from floor to canopy.
“It’s amazing under here.”
“I know.” David tucked his bunched-up shirt into the waistband of his jeans.
“I feel like I’m in my own little Hobbit hole.”
“Yes. It’s very hidden. No one can see us, not even if they were flying over.”
“Hm. Comforting.”
He laughed. “Come on, I’ll take you to my favorite spot.”
As we walked, my toes tangled in the carpet of loose-leafed clover. I lifted my feet a little higher with each step and placed them flat over the creepers, stabilizing myself with my hand on the mossy tree trunks. It all smelled so grassy, in a hot and moist kind of way.
“Just watch out for these little terrors; they’ll give you a nasty scratch.” David reached forward to shift the silvery arm of a fern from our path.
“Speak from experience, do we?” I said playfully.
“Yes.” He held it in place, dropping it softly back against the hip of the tree after I passed. “My brother and I used to play here as children.”
I could actually picture that, too: little David with a companion of exact lookalike, popping up above the bushes, pretending to shoot each other. “I bet you were a cute little boy.”
“Stunning,” he said, then pointed ahead. “Look up there.”
My eyes followed the vertical columns of maples to a deliciously colorful display of twisting climbers, shrouded with palm-sized purple-and-white flowers. “Wow. They look like purple cherry blossoms.”
“Want one?”
“Oh, no. It’s okay. They’re too high u—”
“I can handle it.” David grinned, then ran to the base of a tree trunk, took a small leap, wedging his foot against the bark, and plucked a flower from a vine six or seven feet off the ground. “For you,” he said, landing back beside me as if he were weightless.
“Thank you.” I sniffed its sour, grassy fragrance. And it was only as I tucked my hair back, placing the flower behind my ear, that I really noticed the vibrant songs of possibly thousands of different birds and small animals chiming through the treetops like a symphony. “It’s kinda noisy here, isn’t it?”
“It’s a kind of noise I can handle.”
“And what, my talking isn’t?
He looked sideways at me. I turned my face to the
front and kept walking, well, shuffling, through the thick undergrowth.
“Would you like me to carry you, Ara?”
“I’m fine.” I straightened the flower behind my ear. “But how much further do we have to walk?”
“Just to right… over… there.” He pointed to a small circle of long grass, center to a ring of tightly-packed trees, with a single beam of sunlight making the busy movements of tiny insects look like sparkles. “Come on.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Not so much anymore.”
“Why?”
“I used to come here to reflect on the miseries of my life.” He kicked a few stones away from the grass and plonked down on his side. “Last few weeks, I haven’t needed to.”
I sat down too, hugging my knees to keep the tickly grass off the backs of my thighs. “This would be a great spot to bring a book.” I could imagine that warm beam of sunlight overhead lighting the pages for me just enough that I wouldn’t need to squint. It made me wish I’d brought one with me, but it was great just sitting here, with David.
“I have a chest buried here where I keep books for when I visit unexpectedly.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. But right now, it’s great just sitting here.” He sat up and lopped his arms over his knees, giving a timid shrug. “With you.”
“I was just thinking that.” I looked away from his ultra-cheeky grin. “Sometimes I feel like you steal my thoughts.”
“How do you know I don’t?”
I shook my head, smiling. “That’s just the thing, I’m starting to wonder if—”
“Wait!” He held up his index finger, angling his head as if to listen for something. “I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?”
“Come on.” David hoisted me off the ground by my hand. His skin warmed the side of my face and the backs of my forearms as he guided them around his bare waist. Little bumps rose over my cheeks and across my shoulders, making me shiver, but not from cold. I’d never felt them from touch. I never even knew that was possi—
“Shh,” David said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
Dark Secrets Box Set Page 22
