Mark of Betrayal

by A. M. Hudson

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Yeah.” I ditched the brush into its home and slammed the little door shut. “I think I’m just a bit blood hungry.”

  “Well, didn’t you eat before you left?”

  I shook my head, toying with the lone white-gold band on my finger. “I didn’t want the taste of David on my lips all the way here today. It would’ve been too much for me.”

  “It’s okay. Eric’s at the manor, you can feed from him when we get there.” He turned his head and smiled at me. “Unless you want some of mine—to hold you over for now. You do look a little pale.”

  I shook my head again, watching his proffered wrist. “No. Blood lust combined with spirit bind and missing my husband could be a bad combination.”

  He withdrew his arm. “Right. Good thinking.”

  I shuffled in my seat, wishing I’d taken his offer. My throat burned and my stomach twisted in knots—which could’ve just been nerves. “Hey, Mike?”

  “Yeah.”

  “David doesn’t really like me drinking Eric’s blood. Are those Sacrificials at the manor yet? The ‘you call; we deliver’ blood guys?”

  “There are a few there, posing as guests under protection. But we can’t call them Sacrificials yet, remember, until we let the secret out about blood immunity.”

  “So, until then, I just have to let people think I’m killing vampires?”

  “Or just not biting them to feed. We have the Upper House convinced we’re using prisoners to feed you.”

  “And that I’m killing them?”

  “Sometimes. That was how Lilith lived. Her food was sent to her by Set leaders who had sentenced vampires to death for their crimes.”

  “So, Lilith never discovered immunity?”

  “Never had reason to.”

  “Oh.” I rubbed my face a few times, readjusting my seat to get comfortable. “So, who knows about the immunity?”

  “Just your Private Council.”

  “Not even the other one? What did you call it? The Upper something?”

  Mike scoffed. “No. They don’t know. And they don’t need to.”

  “Okay. Well, so, when do we tell them?”

  He chuckled once, practically snorting. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded.

  “When we catch Drake, Ara. Until then, venom is our only weapon against him,” he said, his voice pitching like a schoolgirl’s. “If anyone at the manor were to let the secret of immunity slip into the wrong hands, people would not only ask why King David died when you bit him, but it might somehow get back to Drake that a; David might not be dead and that, b; armies, immune to our only weapon, could be created.”

  “Oh.” I slid down further in my seat.

  “Once you’ve taken your oath, that promise should give you increased powers. It’s rumoured that you would be as, if not more, powerful than Drake. We won’t need to worry as much if that’s true.”

  I smiled. I liked the idea of that. Maybe then I could protect everyone else for once. “How do the Sacrificials get immunity from my venom if I'm not feeding them?”

  He nodded at his own arm. “My blood.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot your venom’s like mine.” I looked out the window for a second. “So, does that make you tired—donating blood to so many vampires?”

  He shrugged. “I drink a lot of OJ.”

  I laughed softly. I didn't really feel like laughing, but I’d not heard the word OJ since I was living in Oz.

  “We’re working on new weapons,” Mike said out of the blue.

  “Huh?”

  “Myself, Morgaine and a few others. We’re developing weapons that may be able to kill vampires, even if they were immune to venom.”

  “Oh. Cool. What kinds of weapons?”

  “Well, you know about how they invented Lilithian steel back in the late fourteenth century?”

  “Yeah, the metal that’s strong enough to imprison vampires.”

  “Yep, and also strong enough to cut them, even when wielded by the hand of a human.”

  “Yep. Didn’t know that bit, but, anyway…?”

  “We’ve had swords commissioned, but—and this is only in experimental stage—we’re hoping that if we cut in the right place and bleed the vampires out quickly, the venom tips of the swords might be enough to deteriorate them—kill them or at least render them useless long enough to escape—even if they had immunity.”

  “That could work. But you’d have to bleed them out pretty fast.”

  He nodded, smiling at the road. “There are certain points you can cut on the body that’ll bleed a human out in seconds. We’re finding that, with most things, thinking human seems to be giving us the advantage.”

  I nodded and looked out at the rolling green hills.

  “Of course, this is Private Council talk, right. You know not to say this to anyone else—especially Arthur.”

  “I know.”

  “Good. Make sure you don’t. Not even accidentally, or you could ruin everything. Drake is a master of strategy—we’re going to have enough trouble finding and catching him as it is. If he knows any of our plans, we’re finished.”

  I nodded again. “Don’t sweat it, Mike. It’s all good.”

  “Good. And, Ara?”

  “Yeah.” I looked up to his sweet tone.

  “Good girl for refusing my blood. That’s the first smart choice I’ve seen you make in a long time.”

  I was sure he meant that genuinely, and that just made it even more condescending, but it also made me smile. He was kind of right. “Thanks, Mike.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We sat in companionable silence for a while longer; the radio off, the sound of the tyres whirring over the road, until I looked at the clock and realised it was past three in the afternoon. “How much longer ‘til we get there?”

  “Five minutes or so.”

  “Really?” I said, yawning.

  “Yeah, look.” He nodded forward.

  I sat taller and peered out the front windshield at the wide expanse of countryside; lush, green grass lining endless fields, yellow flowers sprinkling a touch of colour across it, and a blue sky that went on forever over the distant trees. “It’s not what I imagined.”

  “What did you think it’d be?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe marshland, creaky branches and a grey sky.”

  Mike chuckled. “Well, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. The manor is all light colours and big windows, with gardens outside every door.”

  “Sweet. I like gardens.”

  “So did Lilith, apparently.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. And when Drake built the manor, he actually planted a special garden, just for her; it’s closed off by high walls. No one’s allowed in there except you and the gardener.”

  “Wow. A secret garden.”

  Mike nodded. “It was named the Garden of Lilith, but it’s been nicknamed Eden over the years.”

  “So, why did Drake build her a garden if he hated her so much?”

  Mike turned his head at a half an inch, then shook it.

  “What?” I said.

  “It just amazes me how you can switch off that much that you know absolutely nothing about Lilithian history.”

  “Uh—did Morgaine add that in the politics speech?”

  “Lesson, Ara. You mean lesson.”

  I cleared my throat. Maybe I should have paid more attention. “I had a lot on my mind, okay, Mike. David was in agony in the next room. All I wanted was to be with him.”

  “Well,” he said, shaking his head again. “You’re gonna have to take to the library and read some books, then.”

  “We have a library?”

  He just smiled, eyes on the road, while my blood rushed warm with excitement, imagining bookshelves to the ceiling and winding staircases leading up to them.

  “Will I be okay?” I asked. “I mean, I don’t even know what the Upper Council is. Am I gonna make a fool of myself?”r />
  “Yes.” He nodded. “And it’s Upper House. Not Council.”

  “Oh.”

  “Be sure you at least remember that much.”

  “Okay. Upper House,” I said to myself a few times. “So, what do they do?”

  “They have the same authority as your Private Council. Most of them were servants to the throne when Lilith was alive. Some of them are professors of politics or were generals in the human armed forces back in fourteen hundred. They’re old, traditional, and have strong political influence within our monarchy. You don’t want to mess with them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they enforce the laws—including the laws that keep you in line.”

  “Like what laws? I’m gonna be queen. Do I even have any laws?”

  “Everyone has laws to follow, Ara.” The bored tone of a cop giving a ticket to a defensive teen dominated his voice. “Treason, for example; if you commit an act that goes against the throne—something morally improper or something that puts your people in great jeopardy—they could overthrow you.”

  “Right. So, don’t mess with them.”

  “Right. And, I know it’ll be hard for you being chastised all the time, but they’ll be the ones who debate your decisions and question everything you do. However,” he said, raising an index finger, “they have centuries of experience, and you’ll do well to listen to them. They have the Lilithian peoples’ best interests at heart.”

  “And who speaks for the vampires?”

  “Essentially, we do—your Private Council. But there’s also the Lower House.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Okay, so there’s two other Councils; one is made up of six vampires, who will, when we get control of the Sets, be the new Set leaders, and the other six are Lilithians, who are Lords of the lands our people live on.”

  “Like vassals and fiefs and all that stuff?” I sat up straight, turning in my seat to look at his face.

  “Yeah.” He laughed. “Exactly like that. Actually, Arthur was the Lord of Loslilian—back when David was human.”

  “Really? But wasn’t he a Set leader?”

  “Yeah. His Set resided here for that period—in the houses you’ll see over those hills in a minute.” He nodded out his window. “Anyway, do you understand more about the political side of things now?”

  “Yep. You just condensed Morgaine’s eight-week speech into eight minutes, and I totally get all that now.”

  “Well, I’ve always had a way with words.”

  “Yeah, you’d make a great teacher.”

  Mike nodded to himself, his lips arching downward with thought. “But I make a better Security Chief.”

  I nodded and looked out at the seemingly state-wide expanse of fields. “So, how much land do we own out here?”

  The Chief rattled off a bunch of numbers, then, seeing my concentration waver, said, “You can fit four or five suburbs on our land. And we own the beach, too. No one can access it without approval—well, no humans. Those at the manor can go down there as they please.”

  “What’s the sand like? Is it white and smooth, like Perth, or is it covered in shells and sea-weed?”

  Mike hesitated. “It’s white. Smooth. But I don’t want you down there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s a dangerous beach, Ara. It’s a narrow strip of sand, caged in by two massive cliffs that get thrashed by ferocious waves. It’s private and secluded and you have to go down a really steep set of stone stairs to get to it.”

  “So?”

  “So, it’s dangerous,” his voice became high. “You could get swept out to sea if you’re not careful—or bashed against rocks.”

  “Are you saying I’m too weak to swim in the ocean?”

  He just raised a brow.

  “Fine. I won’t go down there…” When you’re around.

  “Thank you.” He exhaled. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a jerk, but I promised David I’d take care of you.”

  “It’s fine, Mike.” I reached across and tapped his knee, then drew my hand away. “So, will I get to see the manor over the hill before we get there?” I sat a little taller.

  “Yep, just watch over that rise.” He nodded out his side window. “We’ll come to a forest soon, so you won’t see it for long, but you’ll get a glimpse.”

  I did see a glimpse then, of something other than a manor. “Is that the houses you were talking about?”

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “We’ve just had them all refurbished. We’re moving Lilithians back in there this week.”

  “What about the vampires who lived there?”

  “Unless they’re faithful to the new queen, they’ve been evicted.”

  Somehow, that didn’t feel right.

  “Ara, the Lilithians we’re moving back into those houses have been living underground in cells for hundreds of years—working as slaves. Their only food has been the vampires that were sent to Loslilian for torture and—”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. So, don’t feel sorry for the vampires. They never felt sorry when they marched in and ripped human children from their adoptive Lilithian mothers, then burned them in a bonfire in the middle of the night.”

  I covered my mouth. “They had children?”

  “We were a nation of very human creatures, Ara. Lilithians lived for their families, for the love of life.”

  “Will they be allowed to start families again—adopt children?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the Upper House disapproves.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they do.” He huffed, re-gripping the steering wheel. “Look, no discussing politics outside Council meetings, all right?”

  “Why?”

  “Ara. Just…just shut up for a bit. I’m not used to all this talking—you’re actually doing my head in.”

  “Fine.” I sunk back in my chair and folded my arms, my frown dropping when the grand cream fascia of a colossal building crept over the hill. “Whoa.”

  “Told ya it’s big.” Mike’s tone had completely changed.

  “Big? It must be six storeys high.”

  “Three,” he said in short. “But each level has high ceilings, so I guess it would equate to the height of a six storey.”

  “It looks like a castle from a fairy-tale,” I said, not taking my eyes from the magnificent glow of the midday sun, bouncing off a dome roof, marking the centre of the large, seemingly rectangle building.

  “Yeah, it has an undeniable charm about it.”

  I closed my eyes, savouring the image as a forest swallowed the day around us, but the warmth of the cream bricks set among bright green hedges, with windows on every wall, stayed in my heart while the car followed the winding path, further and further away from the sun. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

  “I know you will.” Mike smiled, taking the turns in the road as if he’d lived here his whole life.

  “I can see why you like it.”

  His smile widened. “This has been the best few months of my life. I—well, it’s been hard leaving Em behind, but I’ve kept busy getting the manor and the knights ready for your arrival.”

  “Is Emily visiting this weekend?”

  “No.”

  “I wish David could visit.”

  “I know.”

  “He won’t talk to me, you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was really mad at me.”

  “No. He was mad, Ara, but you know it’s not really you he’s mad at, don’t you?”

  I shook my head. “No. He is mad at me. He’s mad that I let myself be bound to Jason. He’s mad that I do stupid things because my heart tells me to. And I’m sure he’s mad at me for still breathing.”

  “Baby, don’t say things like that. You know that’s not true.”

  “I reckon it is. Think about it; he lived his whole life serving one king. Then, I not only came along and ruine
d his beliefs in his law system, but I happen to be a Lilithian, who is gonna throw everything out of order for the sake of a prophecy. I’ve turned his world upside down—just by existing.”

  Mike sighed. “Ara. Grow up. You know David doesn’t feel that way.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” I let out a long breath, feeling queasy again with the way the road tipped downward, taking us on a steep decline to where the trees stopped abruptly at the base, parting only for a wide, multi-coloured brick wall with stones of red, yellow, and pale blues—natural colours, mostly. It looked charming, in a secret garden kind of way, but the spear-tipped iron gates took the fairy-tale out of the scene, screaming graveyard. Back behind me, I could see where the trees thinned out again as the road led away. “They’re not natural are they?”

  “Huh?” Mike looked sideways at me as we pulled up beside a speaker box in front of the gate.

  “The trees? They didn’t grow around this wall, did they—someone put them here? I mean, trees don’t just grow in a line like that in the middle of an empty field.”

  “Oh, uh—yeah. I think so. I don’t really notice things like that, Ara.” He wound his window down and leaned out slightly, then turned back for a second. “Why don’t you ask Morgaine—she knows all about this place?”

  “Okay.”

  “George? You there, mate?” Mike asked the box.

  “Hey—it’s Mikey,” a jolly, old-sounding voice came through the speaker.

  “Hey, George. You wanna open the gates? I got a future queen in my car.”

  “No worries, sir. I’ll be down in a jiffy.”

  The sound of the car engine—something usually quite soothing—was only a filler for the intimidating silence that swallowed my ability to breathe. “Where are all the people? I thought they were rallying to meet me.”

  “They’ll be up at the manor, I’d say.”

  “How many?” I squirmed in my seat.

  “Not too many. The Ninth and the First Orders aren’t here. It’s only the Fifth and the Upper House.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the other ones are across international waters, Ara, and besides, the knights just gave them back their homes—they’re all refurbishing and setting up their new lives.”

  “Oh. Cool, so, how many people, er…Lilithians are gonna be there?”

  Mike scratched his head and the gate opened before us. “’Bout a hundred.”