by A. M. Hudson
He appeared behind me, his fingers grasping my arm. “Let’s get something monumentally clear here, my dear, sweet girl. I brush nothing off. And, yeah, maybe I'm hesitant to discuss this with you, because there's nothing to discuss. I won't approve a lab for Jason as a guise for him to spend time alone with you.”
“That's not what it is. Do you have no faith in him at all?”
“Not when it comes to you.”
“Yet you trust Arthur,” I said spitefully.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I wanted to say that if he was worried about anyone trying to have sex with me, it should be his uncle, not Jason, but I was pretty sure that would result in Arthur’s death. And as I looked up into his troubled eyes, the exhaustion of everything came down on top of me. My lip quivered. “I can't do this anymore, David.”
“What, my love?” He pulled me close, my nice, loving David returning.
“I'm sorry. I know you don't want Jason and I to hang out, but he's trying to find a way to make my pain stop.”
“It’s not going to stop, Ara. He’s putting ideas into your head.”
“Is he? Or is it that you don’t want me to have any friends?”
“How can you say something like that?” He pulled away. “I’m not that sort of man, Ara, you know that.”
“Do I?”
“Ara, please?” His tone broke at the same time as his heart.
“David,” I said, exhaling. “Jason is my only real friend. He's the only one in this whole place who has my back, no matter what I do wrong.”
“What do you mean? What about me?”
“No. You're lying to me all the time. I can't trust anything you say.”
“Lying?” The skin on his forehead moved downward, bunching into a frown. “Ara, what makes you think I'm lying to you?”
“So many things.” I shook my head, laughing to myself.
“My love, please. Talk to me.”
“Well, for one, you told me I descended from Evangeline's bloodline, and now you tell me she died as a child, and you told me—”
“Hold on.” He put a finger up. “When I told you that story, I believed it to be correct. All I had learned came from Lilithian History books in our library. I told you what I knew to be the truth.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He brushed my hair off my face. “And these aren’t the only half-truths we’ve all been told. You have to trust me, Ara. I did not tell you those stories to steer you in the wrong direction. If anything, ask Arthur why he never told you the truth. Ask him, or any other High Vampire Councillor, why they never corrected myself or any other vampire.”
“And, you see? That’s just it. Everyone keeps the truth so buried no one even knows what's true anymore. I mean, I came here believing Drake took revenge on all Lilithians because Lilith wanted to kill him, and now I'm told it’s because Lilith killed Anandene.”
“No. Anandene left Drake—betrayed him. She ran off with one of the council leaders.”
“That's not what Arthur told me.”
David looked down at his clasped hands, frowning. “What else did he tell you?”
“He told me not to discuss this with anyone.”
His lip tugged on one side, making his whole face softer with that smile. “You can tell me. I'm your husband.”
I nodded. “I know. That’s kind of why I'm telling you. I just…” I wandered over and sat on the box at the end of our bed. “I'm getting lost in this web of lies, David, and I don't really know who to trust.”
“Trust me.” He offered his hand. I took it.
“I'm trying.”
“Ara, trying isn’t good enough. What reason on God’s good earth would you have not to trust the one person in the world who always has your best interests at heart?”
“Because that one person is also willing to do things I don’t necessarily agree with in order to protect me.”
He placed his other hand over mine. “And I will do that whether you trust me with your truths or not. Nothing will change that.”
I allowed a small smile.
“Now, tell me what you know about Anandene.”
“Arthur told me that she cast a spell using the Stone of Truth, and it brought a curse on the lands—many people died. Lilith had to slay Anandene on the Stone to end the curse. Drake offered his life up, but Lilith tricked him, captured him and imprisoned him until Anandene was dead. There was nothing he could do to save her.”
David swallowed, lowering his hands to his knees as he walked backward and sat on the box. “He never told me that.”
“Who?”
“Drake.”
“He told you things?”
He nodded, his thoughts lost in some other place. “That’s . . . that’s really awful.”
I nodded. “Yep. And, so, that’s why he killed Lilith, not because he wanted the throne.”
“That makes so much more sense.” David nodded again. “There are so many lies layered over the top of lies. I can hardly see the truth under it all.”
“Do you think Arthur was lying about that story?”
He shook his head. “No. That’s the first time I've heard anything of it, which means it’s probably true.”
“So, then, what do you think about Drake wanting our child dead?”
He swiped a hand down his face, sighing, then slid his butt across the box and flopped back on the bed. “I don't care about that part of the story, Ara. The fact is that he’ll never even get half a chance to contemplate the idea of possibly making a plan to kill our child. I won't let that happen.”
I moved over and sat right by his waist, running my finger along the belt-line of his jeans. “And, what are you going to do about it?”
“I don't know.”
“Kill him with the Dagger of Yahanna?”
He sat up on his elbow. “How do you know about that?”
I shrugged. “I'm not as dumb as I look.”
“Arthur told you?”
I nodded.
“Why would he do that?” he said to himself, flopping back on the bed again.
“He…” I divided truths in my head and carefully chose which ones to share. “He wanted to prepare me for the fact that you were going to die.”
His chest stopped lifting, his body becoming immensely still, only his throat moving as he obviously swallowed all the grief he was holding but would never share.
“David?”
“Mm?”
“Why didn't you tell me about the dagger?”
He sighed and rolled up on his elbow, placing his hand firmly over mine. “I didn't want to break your heart. We fought so hard to be together, and you—” He squeezed my hand. “You wanted to die after you were tortured. And that was only because you thought I was dead. So, what would happen to you if you had to be here, alone, ruling, doing things you didn't believe you were capable of, if you also had the burden of losing me?”
My eyes watered.
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Ara. I am. I wanted to, and that’s why I stayed away. In fact, I laid here—” He pointed to the pillows. “I came to you one night, laid here for hours telling you everything, and in that one perfect moment, as I stroked your cheek, you smiled, and for the first time ever in my life, I felt like everything would be okay.”
I laid a hand gently to his cheek. “It will.”
“No.” He pulled away. “It won’t. It can’t be, and that single moment I let myself believe it would caused more pain than I ever knew existed, because I was forced to realise then that I’d never feel like that again.”
“But it doesn't have to be that way, David.” I grabbed his hand and held it tight. “You don't have to kill Drake.”
“Yes, I do. He will come for you, Ara. He will come for our baby one day, and I can't—” He shook his head, searching for words. “I can't live with that fear. I need you safe. I need our people safe.”
“I won't lose you,” I said, and it was non-nego
tiable.
He looked at me, seeing my thoughts, seeing my strengths, but none of what I felt seemed to matter to him at all. “You will, Ara. There is no choice. It takes the hand of a king to use that dagger, and I am the only king.”
“There are hundreds of people who would take that role and kill Drake, David. It doesn't have to be you.”
“I am the only rightful king,” his voice grew louder.
“There are ways around it,” I said sternly.
And his body shifted, his shoulders going back as he saw the words in my mind: king by right of heir. “No.”
“Why?” I stood up as he appeared across the room by the fireplace.
“Just…no.”
“David, I would do anything to—”
“It’s out of the question.”
“But it would save our forever.”
“No. It would destroy it, Ara!” He spun around to look at me. “Do you think I would ever be able to touch you again if you’d been with another man?”
I sunk back a bit. “I wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone to do it.”
He frowned at me.
“IVF, turkey baster…” I suggested.
He turned away. “I couldn’t live with myself if you had to go through that just to save me.”
“But you’d be living. And I know, from experience, that you can get past just about anything that happens to you, David. You were burned on the fire—you caught me with my legs around Mike. You can get past a damn turkey baster.”
He went ultra still and ultra quiet for a second, then turned around again, his whole body shaking with laughter.
“What are you laughing at?” I asked, trying not to smile.
“Turkey baster.”
And I couldn’t help it. I laughed too.
He wandered over and placed a hand to the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss on the brow, my favourite kind of kiss. “My love, it’s a good idea, but I'm the king. It’s my job to die for our people—for you. I swore that in my oath, and that is what I’ll do.”
I stepped back. “No.”
He smiled conceitedly. “You have no say. Arthur gave me the dagger, Ara. I'm leaving for Paris in a month to kill Drake, and you can either enjoy this time with me, or you can waste it being mad.”
Paris? Which meant Arthur hadn't given him the real dagger, because I knew, and Arthur knew, that Drake was in Romania. I propped my hands on my hips, a challenging grin marking my lips. “Fine. I’ll take door number two.”
“Ara, be reasonable.”
“Me? Me be reasonable? You’re talking about going to your death, taking our forever and throwing it away, and I don't get any say!” I leaned forward on each word. “And you just think I should sit back and take it!”
“Yes.”
“No!” I stomped my foot. “I won't, David. If you go . . . if you go to kill him, I . . . I’ll do something stupid while you're gone.”
He stepped into me. “Like what?”
I shrugged out of his grip. “I’ll sleep with Arthur and make him king.”
His jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I held strong; my shoulders straight, head high.
“Ara.” He grabbed my arm firmly. “If you touch him—” He shook his head, his teeth like a cage behind his lips. “If you . . . I’ll kill him. And God help me, Ara, I wouldn't be able to stop myself.” He dropped my arm and turned away. “So, if you think for one second that having a child with him will save our forever, you’re wrong.”
“No. I'm not, because it’d mean you’d be alive.”
“But I will hate you.”
“I can live with that better than your death.”
His eyes narrowed, the stern, scary David resting just behind that green gaze. “I am going to tell you something, young lady, and you are going to listen.” He grabbed both my arms and moved me to sit on the chair.
I plonked down clumsily, keeping my eyes on David's as he squatted in front of me, composing himself.
“You will do as you are told. I am king, and I will kill Drake. I will not have you touching or carrying the child of another man.” His voice shook with anger. “This will not be negotiated, and if you even think about going against me, I will have you locked in a cell until word of Drake's death has been received. Do I make myself clear?”
The little girl inside me shook, nodding her head, but the woman I felt growing deep in my soul every day stood taller, readying her sword. “You can't ask me to accept your death, David.”
“I'm not.” He stood up. “I'm telling you to.”
“God!” I stood up too, and stomped my foot again. “Why do you have to be like this? I'm not one of your minions. I'm not someone you can boss around. I am the goddamn queen, and I! Have power! Over you! Maybe I’ll lock you in a cell, and not let you out until I kill Drake.”
He rushed up beside me and grabbed my arm again. “You stubborn, spoiled little brat.”
I tugged away. “I’d rather be a brat in a world where you're alive than an obedient wife in a world where you're dead.”
He walked away and sat down on the coffee table in the sitting room, running both hands through his hair. “I can't fight with you, my love. I can't. I won't. I have to kill Drake. I'm sorry. I know that means I'm giving up our forever, but I had hoped to at least leave you with a child before I left.”
“So I could be a single, teenage mom!”
He sighed. “You always wanted a family, Ara. A little Harry, and—”
“But it won't be a little Harry, David. I can't even fall pregnant.” My voice broke. “And Lilithians don't have boys. We have girls.”
“So you don't want a child because you don't want a girl.”
“I never said that!” I screamed. “I'm just saying…I don't want this. Any of this. I wanted a family: a mum and a dad and a baby. Not an eternity without you. You're all I have ever wanted to live for. If you take that way, then I have nothing left!”
He softened a little. “I know. Okay. I know. But you're strong—stronger than any of us have ever given you credit for, and you will get through this.”
“No.” I shook my lowered head. “I won't.”
He appeared a step away from me, testing the waters. “You will.”
“You’re wrong. And, if you’re so hell-bent on dying for us, then—” I looked up at him, my jaw stiff, sight blinded by tears. “I want a divorce.”
“What?” He closed the gap between us quickly, his green eyes wide.
“You heard me.” I shuffled my feet, standing a little taller in the domination of his height. “I love you, David, enough that I am willing to do anything to keep you alive, even if that means I can't be with you anymore.”
“And what then? You’re just gonna go out and fuck some random stranger!” He sunk back on his heels, dropping his arm to his side as a flash image of Jason came to the front of his thoughts. “Or maybe not a stranger.”
“Don't go there, David. I didn't have anyone in mind. I'm just trying to wake you up and make you see that you can't make decisions like this without me. I have a say.” I pointed to my chest. “You're my husband and I don't want you to be dead for forever. Don't you remember? Have you forgotten what you told me about how vampires love eternally?”
“No,” he said, looking down.
“Then what makes you think it’s okay to leave me, to just die and not care how it makes me feel?”
“You think I don't care?” he yelled. “Ara, I am the only one who actually does care how you feel. I am the one who came after you when my brother was torturing you. I'm the one who laid burning in a fire, alive, to save our forever, and it was all for nothing, because as soon as those scars healed, my heart was torn open again by this—” he presented the air, as if everything we were discussing was laying out in front of us, “—by this truth that I battled with long before you ever even noticed I was struggling with something. I've had to deal with this. I've had to think long and hard about letting
Drake live, running for the rest of our lives, or killing him and leaving the one girl I never wanted to hurt alone, forever, to fall into who-knows-whose arms.” He stepped back, rubbing his hairline, his voice shaking on the brink of tears. “So don't tell me I don't care how you feel, Ara, because it is all I care about.”
My fingers had wrapped so tight around the key on my necklace that, as I dropped my hands, too much blood came rushing back into it. “There has to be something we can do.”
He reached across and placed his hands on both my shoulders. “There is. Enjoy the last few months we have—make some memories, maybe make a baby.”
“And you’ll leave before she’s even born?”
“This is just how it has to be,” he said coldly, turning away. “Discussion closed.”
“David?” I called, but he disappeared, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
***
I sat on my bed, tearstains drying out my cheeks, and told my dad the best of all my adventures living in Paris, including how my husband just confessed he was going to his death for some noble, supernatural cause.
There was no negotiation, Dad, I wrote. He just didn't care how I felt about it, and there was nothing I could say. He had a point, and I know he’s usually always right. But not this time. He’s doing the wrong thing! What does he think will happen if he just leaves me here—alone? I won't survive it, Dad. I won’t. I never wanted to live without him, and he won't reason with me. What am I supposed to do but go behind his back and put a turkey baster where it’s not supposed to go? I don't want to, Dad. I started crying again. I don't want to betray him, but he's left me no choice. I just don’t know how to fix this, how to make it that I won’t lose him. I sobered a little, holding my breath, resting my finger over the ‘send’ button.
“Ara?” My door opened slowly, a head of blonde hair popping in between the crack.
“Emily.” I quickly swiped the tears away and deleted the last paragraph, leaving my email as the chirpy, I'm-doing-well kind my dad really wanted to hear. “What’s up?”
“Sorry to disturb you. I just…can I come in?”
“Sure.” I moved over and patted the spot on the bed next to me. But Emily closed my door and walked over, taking a seat on the foot of my bed instead, her knees facing the dresser as if maybe she had bad news and didn’t want to see my face as she said it.
