I stood for a moment with my fists tight, eyes brimming with tears.
“Amara, it’s you or her now—”
“Don’t touch me.” I shoved him off. “I’m telling David. And nothing you say can stop me.”
“Amara, please,” he called as I stormed out of his room. “Please just think about this.”
“There’s nothing to think about.” I marched down the hall with a mission moving my feet. I knew I looked like Death had come for me in the night—knew my beige cardigan did not cover my pajama pants, and the dark circles of insomnia couldn’t be shadowed by long, scruffy hair. I didn’t care, though—didn’t care how terrible I looked. So what if people saw the truth? I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t eat much more than was necessary to survive. I didn’t want to get out of bed, let alone get dressed. I just wanted David to snap out of this cage he’d been in and come back to me. Because I wasn’t sure I could possibly cope knowing my baby might die.
“Ara?” Nate called, stopping dead a few feet in front of me. He palmed himself in the head, then spun around, and when he spun back again, he bowed. “I’m sorry. I meant, Queen Amara.”
“Nate.” I put my hand up. “It’s fine. What’s up?”
“We’ve been waiting.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “We had an appointment at six, remember? To turn Sara.”
My arms dropped. “Oh crud.”
Nate laughed nervously. “Uh, are queens supposed to say ‘crud’?”
I laughed too. “I’m sorry, Nate. I forgot.” I motioned to my belly, as if that was the reason. “I’ve just had so much on my mind.”
“It’s all good.” He eyed my outfit critically. “I’ll… we’re happy to wait, if you wanna get dressed.”
Two choices stood before me: get dressed and go with Nate—turn Pepper human and farewell them both—or take door number two: find David, break through the cloud of depression he was in long enough to completely crush him and tell him our daughter would die. Oh, and also that he’s the evil twin and I was meant to be with Jason all along.
I looked back at my bedroom door. “I’ll be ten minutes, Nate. I’m really sorry I forgot.”
He took a few steps backward. “Don’t sweat it, Majesty. I totally get it.”
* * *
The last vampire I turned human was a child. Which made my soul ache as I stepped into the lab, where Jason used to be, and saw Pepper laying on a gurney in the observation room—so small and petite she looked like a child. Nate stood by her side, talking to Em, who was busy hooking Pepper up to monitors.
I grabbed a lab coat off the hook on the wall by the door and slipped my arms through as I walked in. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Don’t sweat it, Ara,” Em said. “It’s given us a chance to catch up.”
I smiled at Nate, then looked over at Pepper. Her eyes were closed, her face so relaxed she almost looked fake. “How is she?”
“David was pretty brutal,” Em said. “He went so far back erasing her mind that she can’t even talk.”
I placed my hand over Pepper’s. She was unresponsive. “Will she be okay if I turn her?”
“She’ll need to learn to walk and talk again—among other things,” Em informed. “But we have a backstory to cover that.”
Nate stepped up and took Pepper’s other hand. “Will it take long—to turn her?”
“No. Only a few seconds.”
He shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, swallowing hard. “Can we just get it over with then? Please, I mean.”
Em gave the nod of approval, and motioned for Nate to step backward, scribbling numbers on her clipboard that she read from the monitors. As much as I wanted Pepper gone from my life, I didn’t like seeing her like this—so still and helpless. Her hair had been cut short and she was dressed in a white hospital gown. She looked pale and drawn and too thin. I wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to be turned back, but I bent at the waist and popped her flesh with my fangs anyway, leaving them there while the venom coursed through her body.
When her lifeless form jumped suddenly and started convulsing, I pressed my hands to the space between the sticky tabs on her chest and zapped her. Her heart took to life after one small charge, almost as if it had been waiting for that energy her entire vampire life.
“That was fast,” I said, stepping back to let Emily take care of the rest. Everything seeming to happen in slow motion then, like I was watching through some kind of ethereal fog—maybe the same kind of fog David had lived in this past week.
Nate stood beside me, muttering something about schools and a new house, but I only half heard him. As Pepper came to life, returning completely to the Sara she once was, I got the strangest sense of something ending, not necessarily beginning. In ways, this would be the end of a chapter for her, and for David. I guess maybe a part of me felt like he should be here for this.
Outside the open lab doors, rain fell hard, blotting the trees and the horizon out with a slate-gray wash. I wondered if David was out there still—on his morning run for resolution. He could run as far and fast as he wanted though, and nothing would ever make sense anymore. Then again, nothing really needed to.
I curled my forearm under my belly and closed my eyes, trying to connect with the soulless being inside. The energy in me, in Nate, Emily, even now in Sara, all had a buzz to it—a kind of tingle. And I thought, until now, that the tingle missing from my baby was merely shrouded by my protective skin. But it wasn’t. I never felt that tingle because she didn’t have one. And yet, I still loved her—would still do anything for her.
I looked away from the outside world back at Emily, and I wanted to tell her so badly. Someone needed to know—needed to share this anguish with me. But this timely little moment that stopped me from telling David also gave me a chance to see things clearly: he couldn’t know. I’d have to break my vow because, when it came down to it, he should not be left to feel as though he must choose between his daughter or his wife. I needed to choose for him. Without him ever knowing. Dad might refuse to move my soul again, but he would do it in the end. He never could refuse me. Not if I threw a big enough tantrum. And to save my daughter’s life, I would stomp and kick and scream and bring the entire manor down.
“It was just too much for me,” Nate said to Emily. He leaned back on the wall with his arms folded. He had a very cool air about him, as if he had all the talent in the world to do anything he desired, but a heart so big all he wanted was to live in peace. I could see why so many people loved him when he was alive. “I wasn’t cut out for this lifestyle,” he added. “Seeing those Warriors come up over that hill—”
“You were down there?” I asked. “When they attacked?”
He nodded, wide eyes moving his brow high. “Sara too.” He motioned to the sleeping human. “We were okay on account of Blade, though. He came out after he hid Emily—found us behind the popcorn cart, fought off about six guys, then led us into the forest to wait it out.”
Em smiled with pride. “I love hearing that story,” she said. “He’s just the most perfect guy, isn’t he?”
“Can’t comment on that one, Ems,” Nate said with a gentle laugh.
“He is pretty good,” I said. “So that’s why you’re leaving, Nate?”
“Like I said, I just wasn’t cut out for the supernatural, Majesty. I just need a normal life.”
“And I’m so glad you’ll be taking care of Pep—Sara,” I corrected. “She deserves a good life.”
Nate grinned. “She’ll have it. I’ll be the best big brother ever.” He moved over and gently picked up Sara’s hand. “I always wanted a sister. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together.”
“And what’s your backstory?” I asked.
“Mom and Dad died when we were younger—’bout six years ago,” he said, even filling out my imagination with a pair of sad eyes. “We lived with my aunt until I was eighteen then moved away because she was a cruel woman. Now I look after Sara.”
“And Walt�
�s drawn up custody papers for that?”
“Sure has.” He nodded, tucking his hands under his arms. “Got passports, licenses, a house, even enough to live off for the next five years while I go to college.”
“Courtesy of David,” Em informed, looking at me. “He’ll replenish the funds when they run out.”
“I told him there’s no need,” Nate said. “I can take care of Sara myself.”
“He’ll never accept that,” Em insisted, eyeing me for support. “You know what he’s like, Ara.”
“Yep.” I nodded. “You can expect more money every five years, Nate. He’s got a lot of guilt when it comes to Sara.”
Em shushed me, her whole face scrunched up into a frown.
Nate looked from her to me, confusion changing his. “What do you mean?”
“Um.” Oh crap. I didn’t know he didn’t know. “Just that she’s a child—you know, and we just lost all those other children we tried to save.”
Nate nodded a few times, looking back at Sara, and Emily shook her head at me, rolling her eyes playfully.
“So, uh… when do you leave?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Tonight.” Nate cupped Sara’s ankle through the sheet. “If she’s well enough.”
“She’ll need special care for the first few months, Nate. She’s not technically well enough to transport anywhere,” Emily said, then moved her attention back to me. “I’m not sure yet, but I think she’ll need to be in a nursing home.”
“So she can’t do anything for herself? At all?”
“Breathe,” Nate said. “But that’s about it. She’s gotta go right back to basics.”
“And you’re sure you’re ready for that kind of commitment, Nate?” I asked, as if he was a little kid asking for a pet.
He shrugged. “I’m immortal. What else have I got to do with my infinitely long life?”
I smiled. “Well, if you ever need any help, you know where we are.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, Mrs. Knight.” His eyes widened. “Oh, sorry, Queen Amara. I meant no disrespect by calling you missus. My mom always made me—it’s a habit.”
Emily laughed. “I always thought that was sweet.”
“Yeah, except I had to call my grandmother Nona Rossi, not just Gran, like other kids.”
“She was strict on manners,” Em said absently, recording more numbers on her clipboard.
“Yeah.” Nate’s eyes saddened. “She was.”
Something about the way he said ‘was’ sounded awfully empty. I opened my mouth, about to ask if something had happened, but Em shook her head fiercely, her caramel eyes a warning. I shut my mouth.
“Well, everything looks to be in place here.” I motioned to Pepper’s stable heartbeat. “I’m gonna go get breakfast.”
“Okay,” they both said.
“I wanna see you off when you leave, Nate. So come get me, okay?”
“I will.” He smiled.
* * *
Everything felt different without Mike. Falcon replaced him like a circular peg in a round hole, but there was still a very definite feeling of emptiness in the Round Room today.
Quaid sat solemnly in the corner on a chair behind Arthur, Blade at the table with his head down, hands in his lap, Em beside him, looking like she’d lost her best friend, and I took my usual seat next to David.
The candlelight flickered in distracting patterns across the tabletop, and it wasn’t until Falcon mentioned Mike that any of us looked up. It suddenly became clear that no one had been paying attention for at least the last half hour.
“He’s settled in with the boys, and they start school next week,” Falcon informed proudly.
“Has there been any sign of Drake?” Em asked.
Falcon shook his head. “But Mike will remain vigilant.”
“Yeah,” she muttered dully, folding her arms. “For the rest of his life now.”
“Well, that brings me to the third agenda,” he said, pressing his palms flat to the table. “What to do about Drake.”
“Arthur offered himself as bait,” I said, offering an upturned palm to Arthur. “Drake wants him dead, so we can guarantee he’ll come for him if we offer.”
David woke from his trance and looked at his uncle. “Drake knows how powerful you are, Uncle. He won’t fall for that.”
“He doesn’t have to,” Arthur said. “All he needs to do is meet with me on the premise that I have information for him.”
“Right,” Blade added. “Because the sneaky prick will come along thinking Arthur means well, and all along he’ll be the one with evil intent.”
“Precisely,” Arthur said, snapping his fingers in Blade’s direction. “He will attempt to take me, and he will do so with what he considers the element of surprise—to catch me off guard so I’ve no opportunity to use my powers.”
“And that’s when we can strike,” Quaid said, slamming a fist into his palm.
“Sounds pretty good to me.” I sat back in my chair, folding my arms. “But what then? How do we kill him?”
“Well, we know that vampires become human again with your venom in their system,” Falcon said. “But that can’t be the same for a Pureblood. However, he did weaken and grow ill after he was injected with your venom during the last attack, so it must do something to him.”
“Perhaps we can attack him, fight him long enough for Arthur to get away, then he can use that wicked freeze power to hold Drake captive until his immunity dies,” Quaid suggested.
“What do you know of my powers?” Arthur asked, turning slightly in his seat to look back at Quaid.
Quaid shrugged. “Mighta seen a thing or two.”
Falcon smirked at Arthur. “Never underestimate my knights.”
“Okay, so… is that possible, Arthur?” I asked, sitting forward now. “Can you ‘freeze’ Drake?”
“I can immobilize him—for a time. But certainly not long enough for his immunity to wear out.”
“Can we overdose him?” I suggested. “Maybe I can just sink my teeth in and bite him several times.”
“All we can do is try,” Blade said.
“Trying is too risky,” Em interjected. “We can’t gamble with Ara’s safety like that. We need to know that she can—”
“She’s carrying the witch Anandene,” Arthur said flatly, the real truth filtering the assertiveness out of his voice. “Drake won’t touch her.”
“Well, I’m glad you seem to be so sure of that, but I’m not willing to test that theory,” Emily said, then sat back, shaking her head. “Where’s Lord Eden, anyway? Can’t he help us figure this out?”
“Why should he?” Arthur seemed awfully insulted by that question.
“Why shouldn’t he?” Emily snapped. “Ara is his daughter. He left his human life to be here for her, and yet we get attacked and he sits in the garden all night protecting a bunch of humans!”
“Do not place expectations on a man you know nothing about, Emily Pierce.” His eyes and voice went icy cold. “Because that man is a vampire. The original vampire, and his allegiance is not to the Lilithian kind, nor is it to the vampires. It is to the humans—as it has always and will always be.”
“And to Morgana,” she added spitefully, folding her arms. “Why didn’t he tell us she was dead? Why didn’t he warn us that Drake might attack if he knew—?”
“How could he have known that?” Arthur asked condescendingly. “Not even Ryder knew that when he fed that information to Drake. Now”—he sat forward, using his hands to shape invisible words—“I don’t know what kind of a man you’ve all built Lord Eden, Vampirie,” he corrected, “up to be in your minds, but he is no mighty warrior hell-bent on seeing the survival of immortals.”
“But he’s Ara’s father. He—”
“Not anymore, he’s not. He left that life behind. And with it he left the man Amara knew,” he explained, this time in a softer tone. “Vampirie is nothing like Greg Thompson. He never was. And the sooner you all come to accept that
, the sooner we can focus on our own affairs and stop wasting time waiting for him to swoop in and take sides against his own blood.”
Everyone sat quietly humbled then, pretty much just twiddling their thumbs.
“Why did he come then?” Em said. “If not to help us, why is he here?” I could tell from her tone that she was hurt. Not because Arthur had singled her out and blasted her, but because Arthur was right. Emily had no right to expect so much of my dad, and I knew it stemmed from what she imagined him to be after he saved her from getting raped back in high school.
Arthur leaned back, exhaling deeply, then looked over at me. “Amara, I don’t believe your father returned here to fight our war against Drake. I think he came to ensure that Anandene was not brought into this world.”
“You think he’s a threat?” Emily almost jumped out of her seat. “No way. He’d never hurt Ara that way.”
We all expected Arthur to defend Vampirie right away, but he just sat there, his elbows on the arms of his chair, drumming his fingertips together. “I did not know Anandene personally when she was alive. I, in fact, avoided her, because I knew she was depraved. I refer now to the encyclopedia in the library—that records our history.”
“What about it?” Falcon asked.
“You may remember a story about a man known to the human race as Vlad Dracula, who impaled men, women and children, among many other unspeakable acts.”
“We all know that story,” I said. “What’s your point?”
“Well then you know, as all vampires know, that Vlad was a fictional facade created by Drake to cover up his existence—that he went to great lengths to bury the truth about himself over the course of history.”
“And what does this have to do with Anandene?” Falcon asked.
“When Drake saw to it that those stories were buried so deep in myth and rumor, he wasn’t covering the truth about himself. He was protecting his wife.”
“But… Vlad was apparently born thirty-something years after Anandene and Lilith’s deaths—”
“Vlad was a lie,” Arthur practically yelled. “Those stories, the rumors of the horror he brought on this world are true, but I assure you it had nothing to do with a man named Vlad, and everything to do with the twisted pervasions of a witch. So I advise you”—Arthur slid forward—“Do not underestimate what a man, who witnessed her depravity firsthand, would do to ensure she did not survive.”
Echoes & Silence Part 1 Page 62
