by Am Hudson
Gee, thanks, Jase, I thought. How nice of you.
It just needed more planning. It needed more drama. I no longer care if David knows I did it. I’ve worked everything out now so that no vampire court can punish me, and it will be a taste of his own medicine as he stands before his peers and they rule in my favour. The plan is so perfect I wonder why I didn’t think of it sixty years ago, as I cradled the dead body of my beloved Rochelle and our unborn child within. My only regret in this great plan is that Ara-Rose isn’t pregnant. Unless I were to remedy that. But if I pose as my brother and leave her with child I would be killing my own flesh and blood. I’m not willing to lose another child. In fact, I’m not entirely sure I could kill her if she were pregnant. Although I do like the idea of David losing his only child.
This time I shut the book with a very definite snap, and sat there with both hands around the little bump Jason himself had kissed and called his own.
He was not this evil man in the journal. He hadn’t changed to become a better person; he was always that good person. But a big part of me felt totally creeped out that he’d wrapped his hands around my baby and also that he’d been inside me.
I would always love Jase, but forgiving him after he tortured me took time, and forgetting what I just read would likely take even longer.
Chapter Three
No matter where I go in the world, no matter how far from the people I love, the smell of David can always bring me comfort.
I shut the third drawer down in the tall chest by the door and opened the fourth. There had to be at least one shirt in here that smelled like him. I did find a pair of jeans, but something about sniffing his jeans just felt a little… creepy.
At the very base of the last drawer I finally found a black hoodie that smelled like it’d been worn once and put away without being washed, and gave a quiet little cheer.
Oh for the glory of boys that don’t do laundry.
Okay, that was kind of creepy too.
Perhaps this isolation was starting to get to me.
David’s hoodie and I climbed up the bench at the foot of the bed and crawled along the mattress until we reached the mountain of pillows, then I flopped onto my side and snuggled into the hoodie. Orange-chocolate and flashes of a blissful fall by the lake settled my soul and let me imagine for a moment that I was safe in my David’s arms. Safe at home. Safe from Walt and Drake and everyone else that wanted to hurt me and my unborn child.
Four days had passed and no one had come here in search of me. Four days and there was no word on whether David ever even came back. Four days and I wasn’t any closer to killing Drake. I began this murderous mission so determined and, day by day, hour by hour, failure after failure, I just wasn’t sure anymore that I could do this. All I wanted now was to go home. But where was that? My own people cast me out for my sins and I would no longer be safe in the human world if they were hunting me. I had nowhere to go if not here; no one to protect me. And yeah, there might be David, but I had no way of knowing if he would ever even speak to me again after the Arthur confession. All I had to go on was someone else’s word that David would forgive me for that, but until I got that right out of the cat’s proverbial mouth, something in me just felt uncertain and slightly edgy—hollow, I guess.
As I let my mind wander through the past, choosing happier times to remember, the grip of sleep caught hold and in a dreamlike state I found myself back home at the manor, standing alone in my room.
The windows had been repaired, the water soaked up and everything put back in its place. Or perhaps in this dream none of the past had ever happened.
I could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and as I floated over to the bed to climb in and wait for David, the moonlight poured through the dome above, its white glow brighter than usual—falling against my arm but then going right through it.
When I looked up to see the depiction of Lilith’s beginning in the stained glass, nothing but thousands of stars looked back down at me. The artwork was gone.
My mind ticked over, taking a few moments to piece everything together. That day—when Drake rescued me—I saw the glass windows shatter, saw Arietta’s mirror crack and slip downward, and vaguely, like a thought I wasn’t sure I had, I also remembered coloured glass raining down on my bed.
I checked my hands again, and my arms. To me they were as normal as they were five minutes ago, while I fell asleep on David’s bed, but as I caught my reflection in the big windows all I saw in place of a person standing by the bed was a shimmery blue glow.
My ethereal form pulsed then as a familiar feeling came closer to the room. I felt it pull at me like a magnet, almost forcing me into its presence. When Falcon pushed the door open and popped his head in, his palm glowed bright blue.
He stopped for a moment and opened his hand, staring down at my crux, then he walked in and closed the door quietly.
“Ara?” he whispered.
I almost answered him, but the bedroom door burst open again.
“Falcon, you in here?” Emily said loudly.
“Uh, yeah.” He backed away suspiciously, slipping my crux into his back pocket. “I just… I uh…”
“Is that…” She frowned, tilting her ear to the noisy pipes through the wall. “Is that the shower?”
Falcon looked guiltily at the bathroom door.
“Is it her? Is she back?” She came in and shut the door.
“I don’t know. It could be the King.”
Cell by cell, Emily visibly stiffened. “Who’s going to tell him?”
I saw Falcon’s desire to run and hide under a rug present itself on his face, but he rolled his shoulders dutifully straight and made himself bigger. “I will.”
Emily reached back blindly for the door handle. “I hope for your sake that it’s Ara and not David.”
“Thanks,” Falcon said as Emily quickly left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
Without the light from the hallway, Falcon’s pocket glowed again. He reached in and drew out my crux, aiming it at the bathroom. When the light faded as he got closer, a look of disappointment washed over his face, slipping off in an instant when the bathroom door opened and a stunned and half-naked King stood there looking at him with a toothbrush between his teeth.
He removed it slowly. “Falcon.”
“My King.” Falcon bowed, hiding my crux in his back pocket again.
David clapped his hands twice and the lights came on, the glow shooting right through me as if I were glass, leaving no shadow. It felt strangely odd to miss a shadow I wouldn’t have noticed any other time.
“What are you doing in here?” David asked accusingly. “And where’s Ara? I need to speak with her.”
If I had a heart to skip a beat, that’s what the sudden shock of realising he didn’t know would’ve felt like. I may not have had eyes, but I just wanted to cry for him.
Falcon lowered his head apologetically. “My King, I have bad news.”
David laid his toothbrush on the table nearby, and walked closer, lifting Falcon’s gaze with his own. “What happened?”
“The Upper House overheard what you said to Arthur.”
“Which part?”
“About Ara sleeping with Jason.”
“No.” David gasped the word out, his soul clearly leaving his body for a breath.
“They sanctioned the order to have her arrested and punished. But—”
“Why wasn’t I told?” he asked softly, leaning on the back of the lounge chair for support.
“We tried to reach you.” Falcon’s voice shot full blame at the King. “Your phone has been off.”
And David felt it hit. He looked up at Falcon and then slowly stood tall again, lowering his arms to his sides. “Where is she?”
Falcon took the crux from his pocket and handed it to David. “Gone.”
“Gone?”
“Drake took her.”
His fingers closed around the talisman and the forced calm inside him said, “Took h
er?”
“To protect her, we assume.”
“Assume? You assume?!” He ran his other hand down his mouth, turning his back on Falcon. Droplets of water dripped from his hair, following the curve of his spine.
Neither Falcon nor I meant to, but we both stole a glance at the smooth skin where David’s Mark used to be. Although I doubt Falcon noticed it was ‘smooth’.
David’s shoulders rose and fell and his ribs expanded as he struggled with this deadly virus called emotion. “How long?”
“Majesty?”
“How long has she been gone?”
“Four days. She—”
“Four days?” He spun back around. “She’s been missing for four days, without word, and no one thought to—”
“We’ve done everything we can. We’ve sent men out to the castle—I’ve been there myself. But she called Drake—went with him of her own volition. She hasn’t been found because she doesn’t want to be found.”
David scratched the back of his wet hair, messing it up even more, then sat down on the armchair near the cold ashes of the fireplace. He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, gently tracing a finger over the Spirit Crux in his hand. “She left this behind?”
“I think she dropped it.”
“Dropped it? You’re sure?” David checked.
“No. But what does it matter?”
“Did she tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
David looked sideways at Falcon and exhaled loudly. “I’m not the Pure Soul—from the contract. Jason and I were switched at birth.”
I couldn’t see Falcon’s face from where I stood, so I floated a little closer and stood forming a triangle with him and David.
Falcon’s eyes narrowed a little more as each second passed, and as the possibility of it all sunk in he said, “Shit.”
David sat back, laughing, the crux circled in a fist beside his lip.
“Then that means…”
“That Drake’s protecting the next soulless vessel?” David said. “You would be correct.”
Despite all his inner and outer strength, Falcon’s knees went weak and he sat down on the arm of the settee—a gesture so casual, but something I knew he would never do in the presence of royalty. “If he finds out—”
“He won’t find out,” David said with certainty. “She’s too smart for that. And without this—” he held up the crux, “—there’s no way he can move her soul or place it back in the body of Lilith. She’s safe for now. But we need to get to her.”
“No. We need to let her go,” Falcon corrected; David frowned at him. “Did you not hear what I said about the Upper House?”
David sighed, leaning forward again. “So she means to stay away until she’s had the baby?”
“I’m not sure. I thought that was the plan, but with this new information, how can she give birth to a soulless vessel in Drake’s care? He’ll kill her when he finds out.”
“I know.” David nodded, studying every facet of the silver Tree of Life. “But if we bring her back here…”
“I know,” Falcon muttered solemnly. “Her only real hope is to abdicate.”
David nodded slowly in agreement. After a while, where nothing made a sound but the perfect timing hand of the clock, he looked across at Falcon again. “I only just got her back.”
With his jaw tight, Falcon studied the floor near his feet, his knuckles going white.
“You can say it, Falcon,” David said. “I can read your mind. And you’re right.” He sat back again. “This is my fault.”
“She’s strong.” Falcon exhaled as he stood up. “As long as she doesn’t get the bright idea of trying to kill Drake while she’s there—” He stopped talking when an indignant scoff left the King’s throat and he started laughing. “What’s so funny?”
David dug the heel of his palm into his eye to wipe the tears of hilarity away. “You know her as well as I do. That’s exactly what she’s planning to do.”
“I don’t think she’s—”
“Think about it.” David tapped his head. “We needed a plan to get close to Drake and, well, she just thought of one, didn’t she?”
Falcon tried to hold it in, but he couldn’t. He had to laugh too. “Goddamn it. Which means we better get a team together—get to the castle before it’s too late.”
David just smiled, then shook his head. “Well, I can say one thing about her; at least her foolishness is reliable.”
“With all due respect, Majesty,” Falcon said, standing taller. “There is nothing foolish about that girl.”
With a sobering breath the King stopped laughing and closed his eyes. “I know. And the truth is, if she tries to kill Drake, she will probably succeed. But—” He looked at Falcon, his serious eyes glassed with tears. “I need to be there to protect her—no matter how capable she is.”
“Then I’ll put a team together at once.” Falcon bowed, and quickly left the room before the King could change his mind.
David waited until the door closed and Falcon’s footsteps faded before the slight remainder of laughter shook his back and shoulders. He folded forward, pressing his head against the talisman, and only as I floated closer did I realise he was actually crying.
“Where are you?” He sobbed quietly. “Please be okay, Ara. Please… just be okay.”
I reached out to touch him, seeing my own ghostly hand as a blue sparkling glow now, and as my energy connected with his, the crux shone bright blue and a deep pulse went through both David and I. I jumped back like a leaf in the wind, and David’s head whipped up. His face changed, eyes taking in the ghost he clearly saw then.
I hovered on a breath, waiting for him to realise what I was—who I was—and when it finally sunk in, he jumped up, barely remembering to hold his towel on.
As he slowly and cautiously walked closer, he raised the crux to my light, and the stone inside it glowed brighter.
“Shit.” He drew it away and held one hand up to the air, keeping it there like a stop sign as he backed away to the bedroom door and opened it. “Falcon!”
He leaned out into the hallway then looked back at me again, keeping his eyes on me as he called out to him again.
“What is it?” Falcon sounded slightly out of breath as he came to David’s side.
David just pointed to the middle of the sitting room. “What do you make of that?”
Falcon’s eyes narrowed as he clearly failed to see what David saw, but after scanning past me two or three times, he finally saw it too. The small slits of confusion rounded like headlights, his hand slowly wiping down the side of his face. “That’s Ara.”
David looked at the crux then at me again. “Is she…”
“I don’t know.” Falcon grabbed the silver talisman from the king and walked toward me. He watched it get brighter and brighter the closer he got, then stopped right in front of me and put his hand in my chest.
I giggled. The energy in his body sparked and flickered inside me, like a ticklish feeling.
He laughed too, as if possessed, stopping with a breath of shock as he forced his hand away from my light. He looked at it, studied it, then turned to David. “We need Jason.”
“Why?”
“He can talk to her in this form. He’s the only one that ever could.”
“Well, go call him,” David said simply. “Tell him to come back to Loslilian immediately.”
“I can’t.” He scratched the back of his neck. “He was banished—indefinitely—for his role in Ara’s betrayal.”
“They banished my brother?” David asked in a cold voice, eyes darkening.
“You weren’t here to defend him. And no one else would.”
His fists balled up, his lips went tight, but he didn’t say anything. Which was probably for the best.
Falcon laid my crux down on the table and stood back with his arms folded. Neither of them knew what to do because neither of them knew exactly what they were dealing with. I wanted to fin
d a way to tell them I was okay, but I just didn’t know how. And I could feel myself fading—getting weaker, colder.
“Ara,” Falcon said. “If you can hear me at all, I want you to get to Jason—get a message to him. I’ll leave right now—take your crux to him. Just do what you can to get there too, even just for a second to let us know you’re alive.”
“Okay,” I whispered, but I knew he wouldn’t hear it. I felt like a heart in its breaking moment then—felt like a tear leaving a child’s eye. The sadness flooding my soul weighed me down and made something at my centre twist and swirl. When I looked at David as he looked at me, I knew he felt it too; it was in his eyes, like a roiling thundercloud—the unending fall through uncertainty.
“If you’re dead, Ara, I don’t think I can—” he said, then closed his eyes. “Just… Please don’t be dead.”
Beside me, the crux went suddenly dark, and before I could look back at David, my eyes fell heavily on his cold and empty room in the castle.
***
In my hands and arms I felt capable, but my mind just wouldn’t do what I imagined it could. I stood with my feet apart, hands loose by my sides, and focused on the air around the pen, willing it to snap. If I could just get this right then end Drake I could go home. Maybe not back to life as Queen, but at least back to David—to run away with him and finally just live our lives.
I once had this big dream of living in a house much like my dad’s, sending my own children to the school I went to back home in Oz, maybe even having some grandbabies one day. Yet with the eternal youth of immortality, the whole sitting-on-a-rocker-knitting desire had died; but I at least wanted to spend lazy days lying in the shade of David’s lake, watching my daughter learn to swim or hunt, free from monarchial responsibilities.
I snapped suddenly back to the present when the pen hit the ground.
“Hey! You moved!” I yelled at it excitedly.
When I picked it up and laid it back on the coffee table, there was a word scratched there on the probably very ancient surface: Home.
I picked up the pen, looked at the word, then at the pen. So this pen had a mind of its own.
