I brushed my cheek along his mouth, closing my eyes and blocking out everything. “It never did. I never stopped loving you.”
He leaned back a bit and frowned down at me as my eyes opened. “You said you hated me.”
“And even when I hate you, I still love you.”
His hand shook against mine, that forced composure slipping, as if the damage those words did was just too much for his insides, the agony coming up out of his stomach in a jagged breath. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Neither do I.” I smiled up at him with a small, timid shrug. “Guess we deserve each other.”
He released my hand and swept his thumb softly down my cheek, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. “It’s been very painful without you.”
I rolled my face into his touch, my long lashes covering my eyes for a second. And I knew the words I wanted to say, but none of them mattered.
Truth was, he knew how I felt; he knew how much it killed me to be without him too. But all this time, everything we suffered was suffered because we were never united, never honest with each other. Never open. Holding him this way made every fiber of my being want to do anything in the world to keep us together, to stop anything like this happening ever again. That’s the only way I could bear to break apart when the song ended.
“Make me a vow,” I said. “Promise me that, no matter what, we will never keep secrets from each other again.”
He shook his head softly. “I can’t make you that promise, Ara, because there will be times I must do that to protect you. But I will promise you that, from this day forth, I will trust you; trust you to make your own decisions, trust you with my heart, and I will never, not for any reason, lie to you.”
I held perfectly still, watching his eyes fill with fear as he clearly read what was in mine. I shook my head. “Secrets nearly destroyed us, David—”
“No.” His thumb cupped my lip. “Lies nearly destroyed us—my lack of trust and faith in you, Ara. My inability to listen. I will never let that happen again, I swear this. But I cannot promise not to keep things from you—”
“I can,” I said simply.
He smiled lovingly down at me, his green eyes soft with a kind of warmth I hadn’t seen since the earliest days we met. And the reason I fell for him then came shining through in my heart, reminding me what it meant to love just one person, wholly and unconditionally.
“You know what?” he said. “I know that’s true. You’ve shown me so much strength, Ara; so much honesty that you’ve taught me a thing or two about it. But—”
“But a promise to be an open book is a step too far for you?” I said, nodding to myself.
“No.” He tilted my chin upward until our eyes met. “It will be a challenge to break old habits. But if these are your terms, then I will agree.”
“Really?” I almost didn’t believe he’d said that.
He nodded, drawing me close again, gently tucking my head into the curve under his jaw. “I promise.”
“No secrets—ever?”
“None. From this day forth.” He brought my hand up to his shoulder and left it there, taking his own slowly down my hips and onto the small of my back. “And… one more thing.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me you won’t ever so much as even look at another man—as long as we live.”
I stopped dancing and, with a lazy shake of my head, looked back up at him. “Let me tell you something I’ve learned, David.”
“Uh-oh.” He laughed, but humored me anyway, giving me every inch of his attention.
“It would be silly of me to promise you I’d never notice another man. That would take an awful lot of faith in human nature. And you can’t love one person forever on faith alone.”
“No. You can’t. It’s a decision you make, every day of your life,” he said. “Seeing them, deciding each time that this is who you want.”
“Right. But, to do that, you have to fall back on a feeling, an experience that makes you remember what it is you want—something that makes you remember what it’s like to be on the other side of that.”
“And we have plenty of that,” he said, brushing his knuckles slowly down my cheek.
I nodded. “I know what it feels like to be without you. I know what it feels like to care for another man. And now I know I don’t want that. And that’s a lesson I can’t trade—wouldn’t trade, because by learning from experience I will take that with me for the rest of my life. And when temptation comes along to steer me away again, and it will, because eternity is a very long time, I know how to handle that—how to handle myself in that situation and how to choose the right thing. But best of all, I know what I want to choose.” I toyed with the leather sword belt across his chest. “It might not be the most romantic notion, David, but it’s a realistic one. Which is all I can offer you.”
He looked down at me, his fingertips shaking against my cheek, and gently smoothed his thumb across my lips. “You don’t know”—he took a jagged breath—“how incredibly proud I am to hear you say that.”
“David.” I cupped his hand. “You’re shaking.”
He nodded, his eyes fixed on my mouth. “Do you know why?”
I saw it in his thoughts then—saw him press his lips to mine and the world around us shine bright with renewed hope—something neither of us dared to believe was possible. And before I could either approve or deny his wish, he bent to steal the kiss.
As our lips finally touched, finally, after so long wishing for it, my soul eased downward in my body, melting like warm snow around my feet. I knew my Cerulean Light was meant to be kept secret, but I couldn’t control the charge of electricity surging between two pairs of lips, heating our mingled breath, all because of the sweetest, most ordinary intention in the world: to acknowledge. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or lust. It wasn’t a farewell or a way to begin something more. It was David leaning in to tell me, quite simply, that he still loved me. Words were a waste in this moment because they couldn’t truly convey what he felt, but as he broke slowly away from the purlieu of my mouth and smiled at me, I knew we’d never need words again—not when he could still kiss me like that.
“I love you, Ara.”
“For forever?”
He nodded. “I think I prove that to myself every time you do something to piss me off.”
I tossed my head back, laughing so loudly then that Quaid looked over at us. He took in the scene quickly, eyes going to David’s hands around my waist, then to the lips an inch away from mine, landing finally on my toes bent awkwardly to push me closer to David. And his eyes warmed with joy.
I settled back on my heels again and laid my cheek to David’s gold buttons. I could feel the warmth of him underneath, as if the fabric barely contained the heat of the life force running through him. He’d fed recently, and the nourishment he was slowly beginning to accept now was giving his sinewy, stringy muscles back the soft fullness they once owned.
“Ara?”
“Mm?”
“Can we go somewhere—talk?”
I drew back a little and when our eyes met, my heart dropped. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I need to ask you something.”
“Okay,” I said, but wasn’t totally sure I meant it. “What is it?”
“If we’re to begin things on a clean slate, I need you to tell me what this hidden memory of yours is, and what it has to do with Arthur.”
“Now?” I swallowed hard. “You want me to tell you now?”
“I would just ask him, but he’s driving Jason to the city.” His eyes narrowed slightly then. “Wait, Ara, is this something I should be worried about?”
“I—”
“Did he hurt you? Because if—”
“No. Nothing like that.” I pressed my hand to his chest to stop him. “I just… I don’t know how to tell you.”
He cupped the sides of my face and brought his eyes in line with mine. “Then show me.”
“I’m not totally sure you’ll want to see.”
“I’d rather be wishing I hadn’t seen than be left thinking the worst.”
“And… what’s the worst thing I could show you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe… him helping you plot against me to sleep with Jason.”
My heart nearly stopped. “That’s it? The worst would be him helping me betray you?”
“What else is there? Unless…” His green eyes squared suddenly, the black swallowing up everything but his lashes. “Ara, tell me you didn’t sleep with Arthur.”
“No.” I screwed my face up, flattening it out a second later. “What if I had, though? Would you—”
“Just stop,” he said breathily, his face almost green and as stiff as the dead. “I can’t even think about that, Ara.”
“If that’s how you feel, then…” I grabbed his hand and turned away, leading him toward the doors. “We need to get this out in the open now!”
* * *
David propped his forearms against the marble ledge in the stillness of an icy night and we watched the floods of fairgoers leave in groups via the maze toward the village. The lanterns out here had long since burned down to nothing, leaving everything in a cozy kind of blackness, perfectly shadowed to hide the shame of my coming confession. I couldn’t look at David, couldn’t catch his eye in case he was looking at me. If I had to see the renewed love and hope there before I destroyed it all again, I might chicken out. As it was, feathers were already sprouting on my wrists.
“I’m supposed to be farewelling our guests, you know,” I clucked.
“So am I.” He glanced back with a small grin, the light from inside catching the white of his teeth. “But here we are.”
“Yes. Here we are,” I said, slowly moving to stand beside him. “I forget sometimes that you have the same duties I do.”
“That’s because we’ve never really been a united force.” He cupped his warm hand over my chicken wing. “But tonight, Lord Eden can manage the guests.”
I took a quick look at my dad standing by the doors to the Great Hall inside, shaking hands and laughing with the people as they passed him on their way out. No one would notice my absence with the Original Vampire around. And if they did, too bad. I had a tall, handsome man beside me, dressed like a prince from a Disney film, and we had a lot of catching up to do. For one night, the people could come second to David.
But as I opened my beak to spill the seed about Arthur, David cut in.
“Did you read it?” he asked.
I hesitated, watching the staff inside as some quickly gathered the food from the tables while others walked the length of the Great Hall with giant brooms. When I looked back at David, I could not only feel the anticipation for my answer weighing him down, I could see it. “Yes.”
He lowered his head, bending a little more into his lean. “And?”
“It must have taken a lot for you to let me in like that.”
“More than you know.”
“So why did you?”
After a deep breath, he stood tall again, resting both hands on the ledge. “Because I wasn’t sure you’d believe me if I simply told you I still love you. Not after everything I did to make you hate me.”
I laid my hand over his. “You did the right thing showing me that journal. I would’ve believed you, David. But now I also understand exactly what you went through.”
He turned his hand over and held onto mine. “And you can forgive me? Just like that—”
We both looked up then, the conversation dying suddenly under the shrill echo of a violent scream.
“What the hell?” David dropped my hand, his whole body standing to attention. As the scream ended, a great orange glow struck the treetops from the east side of the manor and an eerie stillness settled over the night.
“David?” I said nervously. “What was that?”
The lights inside flickered once, and a door slammed loudly somewhere before total darkness consumed the manor grounds. We stood perfectly still, waiting. Across the yard, fairgoers charged toward the exit, gathering their skirts in folds above their legs or simply picking up their companions and disappearing. None of them screamed. None of them even talked. They just snuck away as though hiding from something.
I could see David’s ears pricked, hearing things I couldn’t possibly, his head turned slightly to the sound. “We’re under attack.”
As he moved his feet, mapping everything out in his mind from the way he’d grab me to the place he’d take me, a sharp wind swept under my skirt, and my legs went up, coming back down over Falcon’s arm.
“Sorry to scare you, Your Majesty,” he said, backing us into the shadows closer to the windows. “But we need to get you to safety.”
David and I both saw what Falcon just saw from the front yard, connecting so quickly to his memory that it felt like we were standing on the front porch beside my dad. “Where’s Lord Eden?” I asked.
“He led the guests away while the knights fought off the Warriors. He’s safe.”
David’s murderous eye turned back to the silent crowds of people fleeing the fairgrounds, returning to mine with a mix of urgency and uncertainty. “Ara. I need to help them. I—”
“Go,” I said. “It’s okay. Just get them to safety.”
He looked at Falcon.
“I’ve got her,” he assured.
David, torn between right and me, tried to walk away, but something bigger than himself brought him back to my side after two steps. “You do everything Falcon says, Ara. Got it?”
“Just go, David.” I shoved him. “There are humans down there.”
He cursed behind caged teeth, leaning in to kiss me quickly before he was gone, like the last moment of sunset before a dark, desolate night.
I wriggled in Falcon’s arms. “Put me down.”
He put me down.
“Argh! You gave me a wedgie.” I pulled my undies from my butt, then straightened my crown. “What are we up against down there, Falcon?”
He closed his eyes for a second. “Too many to win this without casualties.”
The way he said that made my blood run cold. I shivered at the sudden thought of the giant windows at my back exposing us to a dark, supposedly empty room. “We need to move,” I said, clutching the lapel of Falcon’s uniform. “Where’re the other guys?”
“I told them I’d take care of you—sent them down to the field. Well, all of them except Blade.”
“Where’s he gone?”
Falcon checked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he peered in through the windows, checking every dark corner inside. “Em and Blade were out front when the Warriors attacked.”
“And?”
“And…” He grabbed my hand, making it feel small inside of his. “She got hit.”
“Hit!”
“Come on.” He led me toward the doors with graceful, stealthy footsteps, pausing by the entrance for a second.
“Falcon?” I whispered, my eyes darting across the room, taking in the emptiness of each seat under the balcony, then the balcony itself, before settling back on Falcon. “What happened to Em?”
“She got a harpoon to the chest,” he said quietly, leading me into the room. “She’ll be okay. But Blade needed to get her somewhere safe.”
My hands were shaking so much my elbows felt light. I followed Falcon on my toes across the hardwood floors, dodging the piles of rubbish left behind by the staff, half-wondering if they got out before we were hit. The candles had been snuffed in here long ago, but the room still smelled of smoke and absence—no humans or Lilithians. No vampires. Just a fading memory of floral perfume and exquisite fun.
“Where did Dad take all the guests?” I asked in a breathy, almost perfectly silent whisper as we reached the stairs.
“There were only about fifty that didn’t make it out of the gates in time, so he’s taken them to the Garden of Lilith. They’ll be safe there.”
I pictur
ed my dad huddled in the flower beds with fifty or so costumed people, thinking about my own costume and wishing this attack had come at a better time—perhaps when I was wearing jeans. The soft, light fabric of my dress clung to my skin with static and tangled between my legs as we took the stairs to the balcony. And the higher we climbed, the more exposed I felt, checking over my shoulder for moving things in the darkness.
Across the empty, open space of the Great Hall, the picture of Lilith sat proudly above the fireplace, calming me with her gentle smile, but also reminding me of the pendant around my neck. I tucked it inside my dress to keep it safe.
When we reached the first floor where the double doors sat in their last position—opened for the queen before her speech—a part of me went back just an hour in time and saw Falcon and I standing on the landing, talking casually. But the soft light and the feeling of winding down had been replaced by a scary darkness and whipping cold breeze, sweeping the walls and my skin as if it owned the place, just coming on in through a door that should be closed. Would be closed on any other night.
Falcon guided me along the wall in the almost pitch black, but as we reached the second stairwell toward my quarters, he turned me down the first-floor corridor instead.
“Where are we going?”
“The secret room behind the wall,” he whispered. “You can wait in the stairwell that leads up to your room. No one will know you’re—” His voice cut off with a wet gurgle then, and his fingers curled tightly around mine.
“Falcon?” My round, wide eyes searched his and, seeing the fear and surprise there, moved on to his throat—gushing with warm red liquid. It pulsed out over his uniform and spattered my dress, freezing me in the moment like a stunned mullet. “No,” I cried, but he sunk to the ground, releasing my hand as the life left him. I caught his shoulders and guided him gently to the floor, trying to lay his face anywhere but the pool of blood under my feet. “Falcon?”
“I believe his throat’s been cut,” a man said, and I recognized him instantly, my eyes travelling from his pointy black shoes up his long tailored pants to the bloody dagger in his hand.
Echoes & Silence Part 1 Page 55
