Mark of Betrayal

by A. M. Hudson

  My eyes watered, my gentle exhalations jagged.

  “I put forward the request for this young Blood Warrior to be your persecutor, and strangely, Drake approved.”

  “Why is that strange?”

  “Jason was young, new to the army, not really qualified for this kind of mission.”

  “If he’d been denied, would you have applied?”

  He looked at his feet. “Yes, but, to be honest, when Drake approved Jason, I was relieved.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn't want to hurt you. I’d seen your pretty face once or twice when I’d checked up on David, and it tore my heart out to even think of you suffering. I'm afraid I would have blown our cover in the first act. But Jason’s heart was stronger, as was his love for you, and he knew the importance of holding out until help came.”

  “But that was it—he was going to kill himself after that?”

  “Jason sat me down, made me swear an oath on our bloodline that I would get you to safety when the time came. When he asked this of me, I realised only then that he did not plan to live with what he’d be forced to do to you. He didn't want that burden on his soul.” He rubbed his brow fiercely, then dropped his hand into folded arms. “The plan was for him to erase everything from your mind, then erase himself from this world. And the fact that his plans to kidnap you and keep you safe failed, meant that everything you suffered was his fault—because he told the council of your existence.”

  “But he did that to save Eric, Arthur. That wasn't his fault.”

  “I know. And I argued this with him, but he’d made up his mind. He took an extra vial of your venom, planning to use it for his own death, until later that week, when we realised that Drake was playing along too easily with Jason’s excuses as to why he hadn't finished the list.”

  “Playing along?”

  “Mm. You see, Drake is a hard man; he does not allow excuses, of any kind. But he allowed this. And it seemed strange that each time the council gathered to watch your torture on the monitor, Drake had somewhere else to be, almost as if he couldn't watch.”

  “Why couldn't he watch?”

  Arthur smiled softly at my face. “You’re his niece, essentially. He’s always been a family man, and he loved Lilith. I believe it pained him to see you cry that way.”

  I looked away then, from the wash of hurt across Arthur’s face as he clearly remembered things he’d seen. “Did you watch?”

  “Some, yes. Only for Jason’s sake, though.”

  “How was it for his sake?”

  “I was watching him for signs of psychological distress. But it seemed the compulsion act Drake gave him—to hate your kind—helped Jason cope in those moments.”

  “So, when Drake refused to watch, you suspected he didn't want me dead?”

  “I suspected that this went deeper than just what we had learned about the prophecy so far. I managed to convince Jason to stay alive until we figured this out, told him that, even once we rescued you, you would not be safe from Drake. He promised to live only until we had seen Drake’s demise.”

  “So…he still plans to die?”

  Arthur nodded.

  “He’s going to end his life just because he was forced to hurt me?”

  “Not just for what he did to you in that chamber, Amara, but for all he did before that. For the fact that he was at fault, for the fact that his torture of you at the masquerade was the reason I discovered you were Lilithian, but, most of all, for the guilt he suffered because of the bind.”

  “Why the bind?”

  He scratched his chin with his thumb. “When he confessed that to me, that he had tricked you into loving him under disguise of your best friend, he was so aggrieved that the words came out unintelligible. He is a good man, was always a good boy, and he let his anger turn him into something he was not—something he could only try to be. But it ate away at his soul. And I know, of all the things he did to hurt both you and his brother, the bind was the one he regretted the most.”

  “But…I forgive him for that, Arthur.”

  “I know. But he cannot forgive himself. It would be like a man of God—a priest—murdering someone. The forgiveness of others does not heal the hatred we have for ourselves.”

  I covered my mouth tightly, holding in a sharp snivel.

  Arthur softened, coming to wrap an arm around me. “We will see this resolved, my dear. I will not stand by and see either of my nephews die. No matter what.”

  I nodded, looking up into his kind eyes. “Arthur, how am I going to do this? How am I supposed to talk with Jason, knowing how deeply he regrets things he doesn't need to regret, and how will I see David—how will I look into his eyes, knowing he believes he’s going to die?”

  “You are strong, my dear. What David suffers for the fear of his own fate is, as far as I'm concerned, his own doing. He could have come to you—he could have come to me, but he chose to deal with this on his own. That is not your burden. And, as for Jason,” he said, walking me to his door. “Time heals hearts. He needs your friendship right now, and that is all. Do not try to reason with him, because it will only see him tunnel into his own proverbial shell. Just hold your tongue, bide your time, and I will see that everything will be all right in the end.”

  I hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Arthur.”

  “You are most welcome.” He patted my back then opened the door for me.

  “And thank you, also, for…you know, for being okay after what I said to you the other day. I really need your friendship. It’s…it’s kind of all I have right now.”

  “You will always have my friendship, Amara. Even if your words have destroyed my heart, I will be here for you.”

  I smiled up at him once, then walked down the corridor, wiping my face dry, nodding to convince myself I was okay.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The wind subsided as the doors closed behind us and we walked, our feet clonking up the steel steps through the barrel of the lighthouse. All around us, the smell of damp, briny leather and engine fuel on heavy ropes reminded me of the time I went on a submarine, while a strong breeze coming down in howling gusts from the room at the top of the stairs weakened the scent the higher we climbed.

  “How’s Arthur?” Jason asked.

  I closed my eyes and took a breath, stepping more carefully, concentrating on the mind-blanket. “He’s okay now.”

  “Was he unkind to you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You’ve been crying. Your face is all red.”

  I wiped it again, massaging my cheeks to help the blood-flow. “I was crying because he accepted my apology.”

  “Apology for what?” He grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

  My eyes met his for a second before I started walking again. “For saying I’d be sick if I slept with him.”

  “You didn't need to apologise for that, Ara!”

  “Yes, I did. Well, maybe not for feeling that way, but at least for hurting him.”

  “If he’s hurt by the way you feel about him, that’s his problem. Not yours.”

  “Just drop it, okay.”

  “No.”

  I spun around. “Then I'm going back home to bed.”

  “Okay.” He blocked my path, lowering his head to swallow his issues. “Fine. I’ll drop it. I'm sorry. I just—I don't like it if you’re crying and I'm not there to make it okay.”

  I reached across and ran my fingers over his hair, feeling it slide through them like soft ribbons. “I'm okay.”

  “Hm,” he said, and started up the stairs again.

  “What’s hm?” I asked, pushing past him to stay in front, as if it’d help me keep the mind-blanket in place.

  “Nothing,” he said, but I could hear the suspicion in his tone. “You know, that dress probably wasn't really the right thing to wear up here tonight, Ara.”

  I looked behind me. “Don't look up then.”

  “Where am I supposed to look?” He showed his palms defensively. “If you p
ut a cute little butt in front of a guy and show him you're wearing red lace over it, he’s going to look.”

  “Hey!” I pinned my dress to my legs. “Pervert.”

  His hand shot out and he pinched me.

  “Ow!”

  “Don't pretend you don't like it.”

  I huffed and started walking faster. Jason’s steps picked up behind mine, the clang of metal louder as our feet thumped at full human speed—the narrow walls echoing our laughter into the night.

  “Racing me, huh?” He pushed past. “I’ll beat you there.”

  “Not on your life.” I grabbed the handrail to pull myself up faster.

  He started taking two steps at a time, leaning deep into his thighs, and reached the top before me. “Told ya I’d beat ya.”

  “Hmpf!”

  “Come on.” He laughed and offered his hand as I stepped up onto the wet, wooden platform of the room at the top. The wind washed a cool, salty spray across my face—leaving tiny dots of moisture over my cheeks, and the gigantic globe at the centre of the room spun around, shooting light out to sea. I half expected there to be glass covering the windows, like other lighthouses I’d been to when I was younger, but there wasn’t.

  “You okay, Ara?” Jase spoke slightly louder over the clatter of the wind, as if I was human and couldn't hear him.

  “Yeah,” I breathed, trying not to fold over. “Just a bit puffed-out.”

  He frowned, his eyes nearly black in the dim light. “You shouldn't be puffed-out.”

  “I know.” I nodded, making myself stand straight. “So, how do we get on the roof?”

  “We climb.”

  “Climb?” I gasped.

  “Yeah—come on.” He took my hand and we stepped through the window frame onto a thin platform, wrapping the lighthouse like a balcony with no railing. “Stay here—I’ll go up first then reach back down for you.”

  I nodded, resting my hands and butt flat against the wall, trying not to look at the crashing waves I could hear abusing the rocks below. “Jase?” I called.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s taking so long?”

  After a few choice words in another language, Jason popped his head over the ledge above and smiled. “Give me your hand?”

  My hand didn't want to move; it stayed stuck to the wall, safe there.

  “Come on.”

  “Uh-uh.” I shook my head. The width of a wide world stood before me, open and wild, eager to challenge this girl and her need for gravity. If I reached up—if I moved my hand off the wall, I would feel that space. I would feel the absence of ground, and I could fall.

  “I’ll jump down after you if you fall, Ara. Not that I’d let that happen.” He hung right over the edge, using one hand to support himself, and grabbed the strap of my dress. “Come on. Give me your hand.”

  Shaking, I moved my hand, and as soon as my fingertips were in reach, he grabbed them and hoisted me out over the ledge, swinging my body by the wrist so I came up into his arms. I screamed, hiding in his chest for a second, while the violent wind rushed up my legs, revealing my underwear. Jason swept his hands over the back of my thighs and held my dress down for me.

  “Are you okay, Ara?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to get down?”

  I shook my head. “I'm okay. Just gimme a sec.”

  He drew a really deep breath against the top of my head and let it out slowly, warming my hair, wrapping his arms just a little tighter around me. “No problems. You take all the time you need.”

  And I did. I stood there, in his arms, warm and wrapped up like a child, until the wind softened and died down to a breeze. “My legs are numb,” I said.

  Jase laughed and took my hand, guiding me down to the curve of the white metal roof, helping me and my shaking legs to sit.

  With the dark of night surrounding me, and the wind soft enough not to knock me off the edge, I took a moment to appreciate the sheer height of the lighthouse and the magnificence of everything below it. “Holy cow.”

  “It’s great, isn't it?” Jason noted.

  I nodded and rested back on my hands, tilting my chin upward to the stars. “I've been meaning to get up here for so long now.”

  “I know,” he said. “And you would have made it here that last time, too, but Mike got wind of your plan.”

  “What last time?”

  “The bonfire night.”

  I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You were planning to come out here then, right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “But how did you know that?”

  He linked his hands together under his bent knees. “I read Mike’s mind. He found out what you were planning and, since he was too busy to watch over you that day, and the Private Guard were still human, he had Eileen extend her speech until nightfall.”

  “That’s why it was so long?”

  Jason nodded.

  “Bastard!” I slammed my hands into the cold, hard surface under me. “He’s so damn controlling.”

  Jason nodded, amused.

  “Er!” I let my frustration out in a loud gust. “I'm really mad at him. That whole afternoon was a nightmare.”

  “I'm sure you’ve suffered worse,” he said quietly, looking away.

  I studied him as he stared with wide, glassy eyes, at the sky. “You okay, Jase?”

  “They're magnificent, aren’t they?”

  “The stars?” I sat up and rested my hands in my lap. “Yeah, they’re amazing.”

  “I’ve spent my life studying them, you know, and still, even though I know each one, I can’t help but to feel like there must be something bigger out there than us.”

  “There is.”

  He placed his arm around me and squeezed my shoulders. “Is there?”

  “Uh-hu.” I nodded.

  “And what would that be?”

  “Jupiter.”

  “Ha!” He rocked back a bit. “That’s pretty funny.”

  “I know.” I snuggled into his shoulder. “No one else in the entire vampire community would have laughed at that, but, I appreciate your amusement.”

  “I think you’re funny, Ara. I ‘get’ you,” he said simply.

  I hugged his arm, shivering a little. “Will you tell me about one of the stars?”

  “Really?” He looked down at me, surprise alight in his eyes.

  “Yeah. I always wondered about them, but just never thought to read a book or ask someone.”

  “Well, I would actually love to tell you about them,” he laughed his words out. “No one ever wants to talk about this stuff. It seems like all the immortals have lost that sense of wonder, and any human I ever hung out with lacked the depth to sit and talk about such things.”

  I shuffled my hips a little bit closer to his, stealing some of the warmth from his body. “You can talk about them all night to me, Jase. I’d love that.”

  “Know what I love?”

  “What?” I looked up at him.

  “I love it when you call me Jase. No one ever has.”

  “Serious?”

  “Yeah. It’s just you. And I really like it.”

  I grinned into his shoulder. “Well, Jase, talk stars with me.”

  “Okay, well, see that star up there?” He pointed into the eternity of night.

  “The silver one, or the silver one next to it?” I laughed.

  He rubbed his chin and shook his head, smiling. “Good point. Um, pick the brightest star in the sky.”

  My eyes scanned the firefly convention and stopped on one; my wishing star. “Okay. I see it.”

  “Do you know what it’s called?”

  “No.”

  “That’s Sirius. As a scientist, I'm tempted to say it’s technically not the brightest star in the sky, just the brightest one you see. And I should tell you it’s made of this and that, but you’d prefer the romantic, historical side, wouldn’t you?”

  I nodded against his shoulder.

 
“Historians consider it to be so much more than just a star—some actually believed it was magic. A nineteenth century writer said that it has some kind of mystic influence over our world, and ancient Egyptian’s believed it was responsible for the flooding of the Nile each year, which, in turn, brought new life through soil regeneration—an occurrence they relied on for survival and prosperity.”

  “A star flooded the Nile?”

  “That’s what they believed. So, even as far back as when the Pyramids were built, Sirius was influencing people’s imaginations—and lives.”

  “So it is a magic star?”

  “I don’t know. Has a wish ever come true for you?”

  I angled my face up to smile in the radiance of his grin. “You came back.”

  His eyes softened and he looked away. “Then maybe my wish will come true, too.”

  “What’s your wish?”

  He looked down at my knees, pressed tightly together to keep from shaking. “Are you cold?”

  I nodded, biting my teeth together so they wouldn’t chatter.

  “Silly girl. You should have told me. I don't feel the cold like you do.” He rolled his shirt off his shoulders and wrapped it over mine, leaving himself in the white T-shirt he had under it. “Better?”

  “A little.” I tugged it around me, laying the base slightly over my knees.

  “Do you want to go inside?”

  “No. I'm fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re shaking.” He put his arm around me.

  “That’s a bit better,” I said, pushing my shoulder into the warmth of his armpit.

  “Okay. Just a few more minutes and we’ll go in.”

  “Okay.”

  But a few minutes passed and turned into hours, and the stars rotated in the sky, taking today and turning it into tomorrow.

  I calmed myself from the laughter of his last comment about movie topics no one had ever covered, and a good one came to mind. “I’ve got it,” I said. “Aliens versus vampires.”

  He laughed loudly. “Who do you think would win?”

  “Guess it depends what the alien race is capable of. But, if you think about it, we’ll probably get to find out one day. I mean, we’re immortal, so we may have to defend the Earth against evil aliens somewhere in the future.”