“I’m not the one burning our past, Ara,” he said, his empty tone taking all hope from the room. “You did that all on your own.”
“But they’re just photos,” I pleaded, watching the third page shrink and curl inward, all Vicki’s hard work melting into ash.
“Then it shouldn’t concern you for me to burn them.”
I scrunched my eyes tight and angled my head away. “Please. Stop.”
“Stop begging,” he ordered with cold determination. “The fact is, you have no right to look at these. No right to relive that memory, when it should never have happened.”
“How can you say that?” I cried, my wrists going raw in Morgaine’s grip. “We loved each other then, David. No matter what happened in the future, that is still our past.”
He shook his head and dumped the entire album on the fire.
“No!” I screamed, jerking downward, but it was no use. My arms merely bent awkwardly up behind me as my knees buckled, forcing Morgaine’s hold to tighten, like she wasn’t afraid of hurting me if the need arose. “Let me go. Please.”
“My orders come from the king,” she said, using the full strength of her ancient Pureblood Lilithian power to restrain me. And all I could do was watch on as the flames melted the cover, turning the corners inward and tarnishing the face of the man I married. I’d seen him burn before, and the flames took my mind back to that night when I thought I’d killed him—lost him for forever. Through every minute since David and I first met, we’d fought so hard to be together, and on that night, I would have given anything to save him, and for what? For him to hate me so bad he’d destroy our past this way.
I took a long, deep breath, filling my chest up, and switched my focus to Morgaine’s hands, finding them by the outline of her aura—its damp, dark energy guiding my aim. And using words as a kind-of spell to give my untamed power strength, I ordered my blue light to attention and sent a short snappy jolt of electricity right through to her core. Her fingers stiffened like a corpse, cutting off my blood supply, then came loose a second later as her body jolted back, and a mighty crash sent a blast of books and wood-chips scattering across the hardwood floors. Powdered sawdust rained down around David’s feet, dirtying his shiny black shoes in the same second I landed on my knees right in front of them.
Time took no measures against me, holding still while I watched my past burn. And David didn’t move. Didn’t grab me and haul me away. I wasn’t even sure he noticed me down here on the floor, and I had no idea what state Morgaine was in after that shock either. Not that I cared.
I blinked to clear the lens of tears from my eyes so I could see what little remained of my wedding day, and reached quickly into the flames when I saw one small photo still slightly intact: it was shriveled almost completely, the color faded and orange around the edges, but center to it all, blackened by smoke, was a small frame of David and I kissing. Our first kiss as husband and wife.
“No, no, no, no,” I whimpered, brushing the ashes away from the rims. My fingers stuck to the page a little where the skin had melted when I touched the flame, but I didn’t care—didn’t even feel the pain. I tucked the photo to my chest, slowly turning my head to look up at David.
His eyes widened for a second, seeing something in mine, and he took a step back. “Ara, I—”
“I hate you,” I spat.
“What did you just say to me?” he asked sternly, stepping in again.
I spun around then, planting one foot to the ground to stand up, and shot every ounce of anger within my heart out through my eyes and my voice. “I said I hate you!”
“Get back here!” he called as I bolted from the room so fast I didn’t even see the damage I’d done with Morgaine’s limp body.
As I reached the stairway, the panic-stricken face of Arthur, flanked by Blade, stopped me in my tracks, their eyes going straight to the burned paper against my chest.
“Ara.” Blade offered his hand, but I shook my head at him. It was too late. There was nothing they could do now. It was over. I stood for a second more and looked Arthur right in the eye, sobbing a deep inward breath, then ran past him, wishing with all my heart that he’d never turned David into a vampire.
* * *
Mike brushed my hair back off my face, not saying anything for the longest time. I sat curled up in a ball against his chest, my pillows and mattress dipping under his weight, feeling more comfortable and safer than I had in so long.
No matter what happened in my life, he was always that solid rock I could come home to. He’d arranged fake flights and a travel itinerary for us, plotting out the entire trip we’d have taken if we were to fly home from Paris, even handing me a list of things I might have seen on my travels. We’d made arrangements to leave at first light two days from now and arrive at Dad’s just as we would have if I’d really been in Paris all this time.
I just wanted to go now, though—be home and in my dad’s arms before sunset. But we had to keep up appearances and, right now, for the first time in so long, I just wanted to be human.
“He didn’t know about your dad when he did that to the album, Ara,” Mike reasoned.
“It doesn’t make it okay.”
“No.” He moved my hair back again, obviously tickled under his lip with the fine strands. “But I bet he’s pretty sorry now.”
I just didn’t care. David and his feelings were the last things in the front of my thoughts. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
He kissed the top of my head, wiping a cold, aged tear from my chin. “Of course I will.”
I hugged him a bit tighter. “Thank you, Mike. For everything.”
“Aw, baby.” He squeezed me, too. “I love you, you know that. I always will, and I will always be here for you.”
I nodded against his big chest. He still smelled all powdery and clean, just like when we were kids, and the thrum of his heart beating inside him was the most soothing sound in the world. As I drifted off to sleep in the afternoon sun, he pried the remains of my last wedding photo from my grip. I opened one eye to see where he put it, but he just looked over it for a moment, covering his mouth with a fist as his chest shook savagely under my cheek.
I pretended to be asleep—that I didn’t notice the tear that fell from his chin and onto my brow before he quickly wiped it away. I wanted to ask him why he was crying, what it was that upset him so much about that picture. Was it that so much had been lost since that day—that nothing we thought our lives would be had ever come to pass? Or maybe was it that nothing in our lives was okay yet, and as far as we knew, wouldn’t be for the longest time.
He laid the picture on my nightstand, and I closed my eye again, drifting to sleep, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t let that photo end up in David’s hands.
2
Mike reached down for the small suitcase by my feet, flashing me a grin as he turned away and headed toward the car. The gentle hum of its engine idling brought comfort to the unnerving stillness in the air. The hairs along my arms stood on end as if reaching for a storm brewing immediately above my head, but the only clouds in the slate-gray sky were imaginary ones, formed by tears as the sleepless night slowly dragged me toward morning.
I knew I could’ve woken Mike and talked with him until dawn about what ailed my heart, but for some reason I just didn’t. I sat alone instead in the dark and the cold, as the fire dwindled away to crackling embers, and thought about everything—from the very first day I arrived to live at Dad’s, right up to a future that hadn’t yet happened. I spared barely any thoughts for what David did, though. For me, that was the final straw. Any hope I had in my heart of ever loving him again died as that album burned. And now I just felt numb. Numb, and a little unsure about leaving today.
It’d been such a long time since I’d set foot out of the manor grounds, and something about it felt odd, unsafe almost. Even though Drake was no longer a threat, even if he’d only been an imaginary one to begin with, I still couldn’t shake the feel
ing that something was off. And if Mike was right about my emotions controlling the weather sometimes, then the small electric shocks I’d been getting when I touched anything metal all morning should be a clear and obvious sign that I should worry. I just didn’t know what to be worried about.
“All set.” Mike slammed the trunk shut and dusted his hands off. “You ready to go?”
I trotted down the steps with a halfhearted yes, but lingered a moment on the gravel drive in case anyone might come to see us off. The only people awake inside though were the bustling staff setting up for breakfast. As I looked back sadly toward Mike, the statue in the center of the fountain—or rather the smirk she gave me—caught my eye. That stone representation of Lilith never had seemed to like me very much. She had this look about her, like she was smiling, but only to cover up something more sinister in her thoughts. Like perhaps the fact that my people adored me, but my friends didn’t seem to care what was happening in my life—couldn’t even muster up enough willpower to get out of bed and wish me luck—wish my dad well. I didn’t expect Em, because she’d be at my dad’s in a few hours, but the others had no excuse. One other in particular.
“Not leaving without saying goodbye, are you?” Jason said.
I spun around to the warm, bright-eyed face standing in the now open-doorway. “I hate goodbyes,” I lied.
He held both arms out straight, tipping his head to one side. “Liar. Come ‘ere.”
Masking a timid smile, I walked slowly over and slid my arms along his ribs. He smelled exactly the same as he had the first day I saw him, and even though that was also the day he kidnapped me, there was something oddly-comforting in the way he smelled: to think that maybe some things don’t change. Which made me very glad to be going home—to the one place in the world where nothing would change, because it never had.
“Take care, okay, Ara?” he said, drawing away slowly.
“I will.” I held on tight to his shirt, keeping my eyes on his chest a moment while I decided whether or not to go in for the second hug I so badly wanted.
He pulled me in again instead and squeezed me so tight around my ribs I thought my bump might pop. “I’ll miss you, my sweet, pretty girl.”
“Me too,” I whispered, squeaking loudly when the baby gave a firm, swift kick, making us both almost jump out of our skin.
Jase held me until the movement stopped, laughing softly into my neck so no one else noticed. Yes, my little unborn princess, he thought, discreetly cupping the side of my belly. I’ll miss you, too.
I let go of him and straightened my clothes as we parted. “I better go. Mike will start sighing if I don’t hurry up and get in the car.”
Jase’s soft laugh showed his teeth, the sharp points of his fangs making him seem taller and sexier in a dangerous, predatory kind of way. Then the smile widened into a grin. “I saw that, you know.”
“Saw what?” I asked, knowing too well what thoughts his sexiness had provoked in that single moment of primal desire.
He leaned in and his hot breath filled my ear. “Meet me in your dreams tonight.”
I nodded, looking up quickly at Mike when he grunted in disgust, positioning himself against the hood of the car in a long lean with his arms folded.
“Ignore him.” Jase rubbed his hand down my arm. “He’s just jealous because he wants me.”
Mike gave a sarcastic snort, and I could practically hear the swish of his eyes doing a loop around his sockets.
I ignored him. “I wish you could come with me, Jase.”
“I can. If you want,” he said with wide, eager eyes. “We’ll just tell Vicki and Greg I’m there for moral support.”
I looked back at Mike, then at David as he stepped outside, closing the manor door slowly and reverently behind him. “It’s okay. I have Mike, and,” I added in a quieter voice, “Vicki would think there’s something going on between you and I.”
“There is,” he said simply, with a touch of hurt in his voice.
“I… I know. I mean, I—”
“Don’t, okay. We can talk when you get back.” He swept a lock of hair away from my lip and curled it behind my ear. “All you need to think about right now is your dad, and I’ll keep working on the cure while you’re gone—maybe have something for you by the time you get back.”
I slowly rose onto my toes to peck his cheek, making sure the gesture seemed simple and friendly, not… loving, but as my soft lips touched the gristly stubble and I felt the firmness, the realness of his skin underneath, my mind took me back to a time under the oak tree in my backyard where I kissed David in almost exactly the same way, and that one moment of my past made it impossible to disguise the love I felt back then. Love that Jase would mistake as his own.
I closed my eyes to hide the awkwardness as I sunk back onto my heels. “I’ll see you in a week.”
“Call me if you need me.”
“I will.” I smiled, then looked over at David to gauge whether or not I should say goodbye to him. I mean, why else did he come out here this morning if not to farewell us?
He stood there against the post atop the steps, his arms folded, watching on with an unreadable expression. I felt my lips move a little, narrating my response to Vicki when she asked why David had stayed in Paris. When I was alone, it was easy to think up something kind to say, like maybe he was working too much and sends his love. But looking at his face now, I just wanted to yell out at the top of my lungs and tell Vicki, Dad, everyone, that David and I had broken up and I hated him. Hated him!
“Come on, Ara,” Mike called impatiently. “We’ll be late.”
I held my position, waiting for David to at least look at me. “David?”
His steely gaze slowly and begrudgingly moved onto my face, but even though his eyes were small and his thick lashes hid the green, the bold-print message of hatred that’d been there before was gone. He actually looked kind of… sorry.
“You need to be both the fear and the compassion for our people while I’m gone,” I said. “Please don’t sentence too harshly, and please don’t put anybody in the Crypt.”
He bowed his head. “You have my word.”
“Thank you,” I said, then drew a breath to say something else, but my phone let out a shrill ring and scared the hell out of me. I drew it from my jeans pocket, laughing when I saw the caller ID. “It’s Vicki.”
“Probably wondering if the plane landed,” Jason said.
“Tell her you’ve just collected your baggage,” Mike said. “I’m arriving to pick you up in about ten minutes. Tell her I called to say I’m running late because of that accident on the interstate.”
“Trust you to think of everything.” I winked at him and accepted the call, but before I said hello, a loud sob on the other end spread my world out, and my soul drew backward from my body with a sudden sense of dread. “Vicki?”
Jason moved in beside me.
“Ara?” she said in such a weak tone that I lowered the phone slowly and looked up at Mike, quick, shallow breaths coming through my cold lips.
As he snatched the phone, I backed into Jason’s arms, helpless but to watch as Mike nodded, answered, nodded again and said, “Yes, we’ll be there in two hours,” and pressed end on the call, his thumb staying on the screen, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. And it was in the way he looked at me—in the way his lip twitched to speak that said everything. I didn’t need him to say it. I didn’t want him to say it.
“No,” I pleaded, shaking my head.
He glanced at David for a long moment, pinching his lips between his thumb and finger, blurring like a reflection on a lake under the hot tears coating my eyes.
“It’s better coming from you,” David said.
Mike reached out and grabbed me suddenly, pulling me into his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby. He passed away an hour ago.”
“No,” I cried, as if my words might somehow change things. As if I might scream and kick and throw things and slam my door and it might make it al
l go away—make them change it—take it back. I tried to take a breath, but my lungs wouldn’t expand. I couldn’t breathe at all. Couldn’t smell Mike anymore, couldn’t feel the wind on my face.
My dad was gone. Gone. His smile, his warm eyes, his hugs that would make everything seem okay, no matter how shitty it was. All gone. But I needed him. I needed to go home and tell him I’d been so sad lately. I needed to tell him David didn’t turn out to be the man I thought he was, and I just needed Dad to tell me it would all be okay in the end.
Mike’s firm, strong hands cupped my arms and squeezed softly, as if he thought he could save me with his touch. “It’s okay, Ara—”
“It’s not okay,” I sobbed into his shirt. “It’s never gonna be okay now.”
“Ara,” a smooth, gentle voice whispered, and a familiar cool touch came down gently against my lower back. “Come inside—”
“Get off me!” I shoved an elbow into his chest. “I don’t want you near me.”
David jumped back with both hands raised defensively, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“Just don’t have any right,” I screamed, facing him, my fists tight, my face hot and soaked. The anger flooded my soul, transforming the heat into agony, until Mike wrapped both of his big heavy arms over my shoulders and pressed his lips into my cheek, whispering to me as we rocked from side-to-side.
“I never got to tell him,” I whimpered. “I never got to tell him about the baby. He would’ve—”
“Shh.” He brushed my hair flat to my head. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
I reached out and held on to Jason’s sleeve as he moved back in beside me. “How could this have happened? He… he was fine. I was going to see him. He was fine.”
“I know you can’t possibly believe this right now, Ara,” Jason said, bending slightly to meet my eyes. “But you’re okay. Everything will be okay. You—”
“Oh, God.” I stepped away from Mike and folded over, holding my gut. “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”
Echoes & Silence Part 1 Page 8
