Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  “If that’s meant to happen, if the only child that can cure vampirism is one from that bloodline, then Fate wouldn’t have taken my husband and Jason as well.”

  He swiped his thumb over his chin and folded his arms, glancing quickly over at Mike then back again. “They were not the only blood of Knight, Amara.”

  Before I could stop it, a snicker grumbled in the back of my throat. “Are you… are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “I’m glad the idea amuses you.” He turned away and leaned over the railing.

  I thought he was upset, until I leaned beside him and noticed a smile in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just… you know…”

  “It’s a little creepy.” His breath of laughter eased the tension.

  “Uh, yeah. It’s, I mean… it’s not that I don’t find you sweet and even attractive, it’s just…”

  “David was my nephew.” He nodded.

  “Yeah. That. It kind of makes you family.”

  “It does make us family,” he breathed. “But, for us to have a child would not be incestuous, my dear. We’re not of the same blood.”

  “I know. And… I’ll keep it in mind.” I laughed again, feeling way too much blood under my cheekbones. “But, I mean, we probably better not mention this to anyone.”

  “Ha!” He stood tall again. “I agree. I imagine no amount of ancient experience would save me from the wrath of Mike if he were to find out.”

  I laughed too. “No. But thank you, Arthur. You know… for offering.”

  “I’d say you’re welcome, but somehow, that just seems inappropriate.” He cupped both my arms and rested a gentle kiss on my brow. “I’m proud of you, Amara. And I love you dearly. I would do anything for you.”

  I wanted to rub the kiss away. Not because it was gross, but because it was a little chilly. But I let it rest there, knowing he could see the moisture his lips left on my skin, because it felt rightly placed. It was a kiss of friendship. And I liked this friendship.

  “You know I feel the same, right? And if—” If David wasn’t alive. “If the need ever arises and the prophecy child is possible, I would be proud for you to be her father.” And I meant that.

  His eyes sparkled with tears he didn’t even try to hide.

  I touched his face and let my hand slide down the gristly stubble on his cheek. “You’re a good man, Arthur.”

  He cleared his throat and sniffed once. “We should head back in.”

  “Yeah.” I took his arm and rested my head on his shoulder for a quick moment. “I better go dance with Mike.”

  * * *

  My footprints left a lonely trail in the sand—the only proof that life here existed. The morning was new, but the red sky and wild winds gave warning that today would not display summer so much as it would the wrath of Mother Nature.

  I closed my eyes and listened to the wind caution the rocks, roaring and wailing, each breath of its cry thrashing my hair out in claw-like fingers around my face.

  Last night had passed like a softly-spoken story to a child. I’d smiled and danced, playing the role of a queen, but inside I felt only the heart of a girl—one who wanted nothing more than to mend the past and undo the future.

  When Mike finally got the chance to dance with me, I nearly told him what Arthur offered, but bit my tongue instead. Poor Arthur would be so humiliated when he found out that David was actually alive, and with the secret of immunity out now, part of me wondered if he already suspected it. But, if he did, then why would he have offered a child?

  “Hey, baby. I thought I might find you out here.”

  “Hm.” I smiled, not turning around. “Or you just asked your knights where I was.”

  He tromped up right beside me and cast his eyes to the sea. “Looks like rough weather?”

  “Yep. A storm.” I rubbed my temples.

  “Do you need me to come sleep by your window tonight?”

  I drew my shoulder up to my cheek. “I’m okay. They don’t scare me so much anymore. Mostly, I just get headaches.”

  “From the storm?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Probably something to do with static energy.”

  I nodded. “That’s Arthur’s theory.”

  “You’ve talked to him about it?”

  “I talk to him about everything.”

  “Including the secret of immunity,” he said drily.

  “No. I didn’t. Not about that.”

  “Ara, don’t lie to me, baby. You couldn’t hide a lie on that face if you wore a mask.”

  My lips tugged on the corners, making me smile. “Well, I’m not lying, so...”

  Mike’s shoulders rounded, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. “Does he know about David?”

  I shook my head, hugging my cardigan around me.

  “You think we should tell him?” he asked.

  My mouth gaped. “You’re asking my opinion?”

  He looked back out at the gray day. “I know you’ll tell him if you want to, despite what I say. I’d just rather you told me if you were going to do that.”

  “Okay.” I touched just under the sleeve of his T-shirt where his Mark showed. “I’ll give you a heads-up if I do.”

  “That’s all I ask, baby.”

  I took a breath, feeling the slight warmth of it blow back in my face with the fierce wind. “Isn’t it strange that we don’t have to yell over the wind anymore?”

  I heard a soft laugh beside me. “Yeah. It’s great. When we finally get a vacation one day, we should go back to Australia, go surfing. We’d be able to talk to each other in the barrel of a wave.”

  I laughed too. “Mm. That actually sounds really good. Tubetalk.”

  “Good idea. Tubetalk,” he repeated to himself.

  “It’d be nice to see your mom and dad again. I bet they’re missing you.”

  “Yeah.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and toed the sand, becoming the boy I grew up with all of a sudden. “But they’re okay. They just got a spa installed.”

  “Yeah?”

  Mike nodded.

  “Awesome. We’re staying at your house when we go back then.”

  He leaned in and gave me a gentle peck on the cheek. “I miss you. Miss us.”

  I nodded. “Me too.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit absent lately, baby.” His tone sounded as if he was going to continue, perhaps with an explanation, but he didn’t. He just looked back at the ocean, his hands still in pockets, his shoulders high.

  “It’s okay, you know. I get it. I’m just glad you’re here if I do really need you.”

  The shadow he cast nodded. “Well, I gotta get up to training. See you in a few?”

  “Yep. Oh, and Mike?”

  He stopped a few steps away.

  “The Immortal Damned: how’s the new quarters coming along?”

  He stepped back down the sand to stand beside me. “Good. I told you we moved them to the upper cell block, right—so they’d have sun?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, the new prison should be done by week’s end. I’ve got sixty knights working on it, and the Lilithian community has rallied together to help as well.”

  I smiled, picturing the plans from blueprint, rising up to the three dimensions, all bright and white and airy. “Great. And when can we move them?”

  “Well, even once the building’s finished, I still wanna wait a few extra days, maybe a week. They’re being fed more often and we’re seeing small changes in general behavior, but they attacked Mr. Keeper last night.”

  “Good.”

  “Don’t be like that, baby. He’s been really good to those kids lately. He just needed to be taught how to treat… well, humans.”

  “Fine.” I rescinded. “And by the way, don’t call the new quarters a prison again, Mike.”

  “Ara,” he laughed my name out. “It is a prison.”

  “No, it’s a home.”

  “It has ba
rs.”

  “So does a casino, but you don’t call that a prison.”

  “Ha!” His whole body jolted back with fake laughter. “You’re so funny.”

  I gave him a soft shove. “Go to training.”

  He skipped off like a ten-year-old boy. “I’ll see ya soon, baby.”

  “Bye,” I called, without turning to wave at him.

  * * *

  The heat of electricity formed a shield around me, and even with my eyes closed, I could feel the barrier of the cage I was in. I heard Mike’s voice over the noise counting down to the second I was allowed to stop, but the pain in my head made it sound as though he was standing on the opposite side of a mountain gorge.

  “I can’t, Mike,” I yelled, clenching my eyes. “I can’t do it anymore.”

  “Just ten more seconds, baby.”

  His count and my count went at different speeds. I ground my back teeth together, forcing my feet to stay flat, my hands shaking as the electricity fired from my raw fingertips and into the metal cage protecting those on the other side.

  “Three, two…” I heard Mike call.

  “Ah! No more.” I dropped to my knees, the electricity ceasing, leaving my fingertips icy cool.

  “You okay?” Mike said. My eyes stayed shut, but I felt him nearby, felt him kick the cage softly, mockingly.

  “It’s really bad this time, Mike.” I winced, pushing my hands firmly against both sides of my head.

  “You’ll be right,” he grunted in that unmistakably Aussie accent.

  “Doesn’t feel like it.”

  The cage door came open and Falcon lifted me to my feet. “You okay?”

  I nodded, stumbling a little.

  My butt found the bench at the side of the room, and Falcon squatted down in front of me, his hand dangling between his legs, a smile on his face. “You lasted ten minutes.”

  “I know,” I muttered groggily. “It felt like forty.”

  He gently pulled my hand away from my head and studied my brow, running a fingertip over the place where it pulsed badly. “You might need blood. Your vein is showing.”

  “Erg!” I pressed it back into my head. “It feels like it’s going to split open.”

  “Hey, good job, Ar.” Mike tapped my toe with his heavy boot. “You’re getting stronger.”

  I looked up, my face all pinched. “I know. But it’s hurting more than it did before.”

  He just smiled, writing something down on his iPad. “Welcome to getting fit. Remember I could hardly walk for days after seeing my personal trainer?”

  “Yeah, but”—I drew a tight breath through my teeth—“this is different.”

  “No it’s not, baby. You just need to grow up.”

  Falcon frowned, taking me in with a new opinion. “I dunno, Chief,” he said, half turning to look at Mike. “I think she might need to lie down for a bit.”

  “Nope. She needs to keep exercising it.” He put his iPad down and reached a hand out for mine. “Come on. One more, then we’ll call it quits for the day.”

  I looked at his hand, then Falcon, and covered my face, breaking to tears. “I can’t, Mike. Please. Please don’t make me do it.”

  “Be strong, Ara,” he said with flat sympathy. “Just one more. Come on, then I’ll take you up and run you a nice warm bath.”

  My hands tightened against my forehead. I felt red, like my whole face would be colored with my agony, as if the electricity was still lashing my fingers, sending violent surges into my brain. I held my breath, moaning in the back of my throat as the pain intensified, traveling down my neck and into my spine.

  “Ara?” Mike squatted beside me. “Baby? Why are you making that noise?”

  “It hurts!” I screamed, slipping off the bench. “Make it stop, Mike. Make it stop!”

  A hand came upon my ribs as I curled into a ball, tucking my knees as close to my chin as they’d go. “What happened?” Arthur said.

  “I don’t know.” Mike knelt beside me, cupping a big warm hand over the two I had fused to my skull. “She just fell to the floor.”

  Arthur lifted my chin and looked into my eye, forcing it open with his thumb. “Dear God, look at her pupils.”

  Mike leaned in and his eyes went wide, but I didn’t care what they looked like. The white shock of pain locked me down, trapping me in a world where absolutely nothing mattered.

  “What are you doing?” Mike grabbed Arthur’s arm as he slipped them under me.

  “I have some herbs that will help.”

  “Help? How? Tell me what it is before I let you touch her.”

  “Passion Flower.” Arthur rolled back on his heels, leaving me on the ground. “It’s used in humans for conditions of anxiety and tension. In vampires, it can help bridge the communications between electrodes in the brain.”

  “I don’t like it. No!” Mike shook his head, scooping my arm over his neck. “I’ll just—”

  “Ah!” A jolt of heat shot from my head, through my arm and stabbed my shoulder. “Arthur! Please don’t listen to him—just help me!”

  Arthur looked at Mike, and Mike stepped away with a sigh. “Fine. Just do it.”

  “It’s all right, princess.” He bundled me in his arms, warm and safe, and kissed my head. “I’ll see you well in no time.”

  “Wait.” Mike blocked our path. “Anything happens to her, I’ll have you drawn and quartered.”

  Arthur bowed his head and pushed past.

  “And have her back before the Council meeting at four.”

  Arthur stopped again, his whole body tensing, kind of trembling. “To hell with your Council meeting, Michael. The girl needs rest.”

  I closed my eyes and snuggled into Arthur’s neck, seeing Mike drop his finger of caution before I buried my face.

  As the fresh air of the countryside washed across my limbs, the screeching grate of claws in my head became knives—scratching, pulsing. White spots filled my eyes as they rolled back in my head.

  “Amara? Stay with me,” Arthur said, panic lucid in his tone.

  “I just want David, Arthur. I miss him so much.”

  “I know, my dear. I know.”

  * * *

  The curtains were open, the sun brightening everything, but I was lost behind the pained circle of shadow shrouding my vision. “Arthur?” I gripped my head, rolling onto my side in his bed. “Why is it so much worse this time?”

  “I don’t know, my dear.” I heard the scratch of his curtains along the railing and felt the darkness close me in. “I’ll be back in a second. I’m just getting my kit.”

  I didn’t even bother to answer, not even a nod. Arthur’s voice dissolved under the ringing in my ears, and I flinched when he landed beside me again, a few glass bottles clanking together.

  He rolled me onto my back and laid my arms neatly by my sides, then lifted my head and wiped a wet, potent-smelling slime under my neck.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “It’ll make you relax.”

  “It stinks,” I said, but the deep breath I took made my heart slow, and a warm calm inched down my throat, my chest and along my arms, not reaching my curled toes. “Will it make me sleepy?”

  “No,” he said from right above my face, his eyes concentrating on my forehead, thumb smoothing dots of a cinnamon-scented powder across my hairline.

  “My head feels tight now,” I noted, watching him sit back and crush something in his stone bowl.

  “Tight is good.” He smiled and kept mashing. “Tight is better than sore.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes, opening them again to his fingers unbuttoning my shirt. “What are you doing?”

  “My darling girl.” He pushed my hands back down. “I’m not going to touch you inappropriately. I just need to put this across the top of your chest.”

  “What is it?” I looked at the black slime on his fingertip.

  “It’s a Ginkgo extract; you breathe the vapor and it helps oxygen flow through your blood.”

&nbs
p; “Why do I need more oxygen?”

  “So you don’t pass out.” He opened my shirt, stretching the collar apart enough to reveal my red bra, and smoothed a firm, cold hand over my sternum and collarbones—nowhere near my breasts. Thank God. “There. See?” He closed my shirt. “All done.”

  “Arthur?” I whispered, feeling a loose, spinning sensation in my head.

  “Shh. Rest now, my dear.” He pressed his fingertips over my eyelids, making them close.

  “I can’t take much more,” I said sleepily.

  “Of what, my dear?”

  “Of life,” I whispered as my mind started to drift. “I need him to come back. I can’t go on much longer without him.”

  He shifted my body and laid under me, his widespread fingers closing over the side of my face as he held me tight, his chest sinking as he exhaled. “Please don’t say that, Amara. It hurts me deeply to think you would rather live for someone else, or be dead—”

  “It’s not that simple,” I murmured, my words flaking away.

  “It is, my sweet, young girl. It is.” He stroked my head. “And it’s very sad.”

  I shut my eyes, opening them again to the morning light in my own bedroom—the headache gone, Arthur gone, my shirt buttoned back into place and the blankets pulled all the way up to my chin. Nowhere, in any of my thoughts, could I find the memory of how I got here.

  I laid back and smiled, thinking, Thanks, Arthur.

  * * *

  “Ara.” Mike stopped me by the library door.

  “Hey, what brings you to this wing of the manor?” I said playfully.

  “Just wanted to let you know that we moved yesterday’s council meeting to tomorrow, so you can be there.”

  “Oh, joy—er, I mean, thanks.” I flashed a fake smile.

  “No worries,” he said, then ran off in the direction he’d come from. And that was that. Quick flashes of my old BFF were all I seemed to get these days.

  Brushing off that pitiful gut-wrench of loneliness, I pushed the heavy library door open. It made a fuss about being moved, and when I stepped into the nook of the little third-floor balcony and turned around, I saw why. It was no door at all, but a passage concealed in a bookcase. As it closed, the exit disappeared, and I stood staring at it for a second, wondering how I’d get back out again.