by A. M. Hudson
“You’re so human,” David remarked lightly, wrapping his jacket over my shoulders.
“And you’re so warm—like a human.” The heat within his jacket felt like that warm spot in someone else’s bed after they get up—even though he was only holding it in his hands. I slipped my arms through the sleeves, then wrapped them back around David’s waist quickly, squeezing tight as I breathed the woodsy, citrusy smell that seemed to have escaped his car and steeled into the leather collar of his jacket.
“Are you frightened up here?” He linked his hands together in front of my chest.
“The human in me is, but the girl in me, who knows how much you love her, isn’t.”
“You know I’d never let you fall, right?”
“Even if I do fall—” I yawned as I spoke, “I know you’ll be there to catch me.” I smiled, and as I looked at the eastern horizon, a flicker of light caught my eye and a trail of silver glittered across the night. “Did you see that?”
“A shooting star.” David nodded. “Make a wish.”
With my eyes closed, I crossed my heart, and thought, I wish David would get the happy ending he longs for.
David stared at me when I opened my eyes again. “Why did you wish only for my happy ending?”
“Because, then I know that even if our happy ending isn’t together, you’ll still be happy.”
He swallowed and looked away. “I thought you said you we’re a selfish girl.”
“I am.” I shrugged. “I didn’t wish for world peace.”
He snickered softly. “My darling, there are more than enough people in the world to wish for that. But it requires sacrifice and tolerance—not hopes and prayers.”
“Like us,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, happiness is a possibility for us—we can be together. It just means a sacrifice on one side.”
David nodded and pressed his lips together. “And tolerance on yours.”
“Tolerance?”
“Yes. For death.”
“You can’t ask a human to tolerate the death of another human. That isn’t fair.”
“But, your species kill each other all the time.”
“I don’t. Not personally.”
“Okay, well, you tolerate the death of animals for your nutrition.”
“Spoken like a vampire.” I smiled ruefully, keeping my eyes on the night sky.
“Well, my love, I am a vampire. Get used to it.” He kissed my temple.
“Bite me,” I scoffed.
“Don’t tempt me, young lady—your death wish may just become a reality.”
I rolled my eyes; he’s so melodramatic. “So…if you drank my blood, and we made love after—I could get pregnant?”
“What?” The word burst from his lips.
“You said, when you were washing the dishes tonight, that it isn’t entirely true about not being able to have children with a vampire?”
“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed and he wiped his hand across his jaw, shaking his head. “Well, it’s rare. You would’ve heard of it in your much-loved mythology. The incubus and the succubus?”
“Is that real?”
“In a way. It’s not like the horror stories, though. Supposedly, the babies are mostly human—not immortal. They can survive on less blood than vampires, but still require food. I’m not sure how it works for female vampires. None of the girls I’ve ever known have fallen pregnant, but for males, we can still—you know—” he shrugged, “we can still give life. There’s a rumour among my Set that my uncle has a son, born by a human girl.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me about this, David?” I asked softly. “You know my desire to have children is one of the reasons I can’t promise you eternity.”
“It’s not the only reason, though.” He stroked my cheek. “I didn’t think it necessary to tell you.”
“Like so many things.” I folded my arms and grinded my back teeth together.
“Yes. But, if you won’t promise me eternity, and you don’t want immortal life, then what good would it be to have a child, and have maybe five years together before you grow too old to be with a teenager.”
“It would still be better than having only a few weeks.”
“True, but after those five years, I would lose you and my children—not to mention they would one day out-age their father?”
David? Father? Of my children? I really like the way that sounds.
“Besides, even if I was selfish enough to take those five years from you, I’d be away for the first two of them. I have to return to duty, and what then? You’ll be a single, teenage mother, and you may have missed your chance at love—at a normal, happy life. No.” He shook his head and held my hand against his chest—over his heart. “I want you to have a good life, Amara-Rose. I want you to be mine—for all time, and I could convince you to come with me—eventually you would. But I will not let you give up the things you want. Not while they still mean everything to you.”
“I know. I guess. It was just a shock…to find out that you can still…” I rested my hand in my lap. “I don’t know. I’m really confused.”
“Confused about what?”
“About what I should do. I want to be with you always. Not just until the winter comes. It’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, Ara. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
I shook my head. “No, David. I refuse to believe that. Life is what you make it. Sometimes things happen that suck, but it doesn’t mean your whole life is unfair.” I shrugged and looked at the stars. “Life is just life, and sometimes you just get played a different hand to what you wanted.”
“And you don’t think that’s unfair?”
“Yes, situations can seem unfair, but all things considering, David, we’re still alive, still breathing—not ill or starving or dying of disease. In that sense, I think we’re kinda lucky, right?”
“I suppose.” I felt his body move around me in a shrug. “After all, we did find each other against all odds.”
“Right. And I wouldn’t be here—alive—if you hadn’t come along.”
“So you were suicidal.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You scare me, Ara-Rose.” I held my breath under his bear grip. “What’s going to happen to you when I leave?” The silence hovered over us for a while as the dark-blue horizon turned almost pale white and the sweet smell of morning dew, resting on cut grass, mixed with the perfumed air from the dying summer rose as it swept my hair across my brow. David and I both took a long breath.
“Are you okay, David?” I asked, sensing a shift in his spirit—a kind of aching disconnection.
“Every day I wake,” David started with a breath of hesitation, “And I tell myself that I’ll let you go—that it’s the right thing to do. And then you say things like that to me—tell me that you’re not sure about living—and I wonder if I should just convince you to come with me, if I should just wish for you to suddenly lose your desire to live life, to throw your arms around me and beg me to change you.
“And then I look at you, and I see you for the sweet, young human girl, who has never lived a day in her life, and I just can’t do it—I just can’t take your life from you. I have to bite my tongue every time I’m about to say something that would convince you.” He closed his eyes for a second. “I’m just a guy, Ara. I’m not perfect. In fact, I’m more perfectly imperfect than a human. I have this evil side in me that is screaming for me to steal you. It’s only the angel on my shoulder that makes me wish a better life for you.”
“I know, and sometimes I wish you’d just force me to do it, too. But I’d hate you for it. It’s just so dumb.” I slammed my hands down by my sides. “All of it. I wish it were different.”
“Well, you know what they say?”
“Yes. They say a lot of things that don’t really make sense. But which one were you referring to specifically?”
“Wishing is good time
wasted.”
“Shut up, David! God, you’re so negative.” I leaned forward to look at him, groaning aloud. “You know, you might not, but I still believe wishes come true.”
“That’s because you’re still a child.”
“Then what does that make you?”
“Ha! A sick-minded hundred year old who has a fetish for teenage drama.”
I laughed, too, and looked out over the treetops. “There is still magic in the world, Mr. Knight. You don’t have to be a child to find it. Even my dad believes in it, and he wasn’t a child when he taught me to believe in wishes—taught me how to make one.”
“How can you teach someone to make wishes?”
“There’s a special way to do it.”
“There is?”
“Yes. When I was a little girl, my dad would sit me in his lap, right by my window.” I smiled and cleared my throat as I turned to look at David, noticing the tiny silver reflections of stars in his eyes. “He taught me that when I see the first star of the evening or the last star in the early morning—to close my eyes, cross my heart and make a wish. He told me if I keep it secret, then it will come true, one day.”
“And you still believe that?”
“Yes. I do. And no one is going to take that away from me with borrowed philosophy about life.” I took a breath of the cool, dawn air. “When you find that one of your seconds has been wasted on a wish, and you think you could’ve really used that second—really need it back—then I’ll agree it’s wasted time wishing. But not yet.” I looked back to the sky. “Not while I still have hope.”
“My only hope is that you see sense—realise that being a vampire isn’t so bad, and let me bite you—to change you.” David sighed, closing his eyes and crossing his heart.
“And there’s that evil side,” I noted with a smile.
“Yes. But I will never stop wishing for it, Ara. I know that’s wrong, but I can’t control my heart’s desires.”
“As long as you control your teeth, then I’m fine with that.”
“But you asked me to drink your blood—what if I lose control?” he said playfully.
“I’m not having this argument with you. I don’t want to be a vampire. I just want to be with you. Nothing more.”
“Okay. No more talking about it.” He kissed the top of my head and held me into his chest. “When you’ve decided you can’t live without me anymore, then we’ll talk about it.”
“But I already decided that.”
“Okay, well, when you decide you don’t want to be a frail old lady and die, then we can talk about it.”
“Not gonna happen.” I laughed.
David breathed out softly. “You know, I’ve never met a girl so eager to die, in all my life.”
I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest to block out the chilly caress of the wind. “No, David—I’m not eager to die—I’m eager to live.”
The story continues in 2012. Don’t miss…
the knight of the rose
Book two in the
THE DARK SECRETS SERIES
He looked for her for a hundred years, and now he’s found her, David risks losing Ara to the arms of another man. But these are not arms of safety and love.
Ara will be stripped of more than just her innocence, and the choices she once had to make between life and immortality will be cruelly taken away.
She will once again need a rescue from her Knight, but this time, it may be too late.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to my first readers, who loved this book when it was just a baby on a blog, and to my sister, Katie, my very first fan, who saved David’s life more than once. I’d also like to thank all my lovely proof-readers, especially Sharon Morton. Special mention goes to Steve Ciupryk for his help with the cover design, and to Emmanuel Fritsch for checking my French.
Last, but never least, a very big thank you to my husband, who read all my rewrites and encouraged me to keep going when I wanted to give up, and to my children, for tolerating a lot of take-out.
About the Author
A.M. Hudson grew up moving all around Australia, and started writing full-time after her third child. She lives a more than ordinary life with her husband and children, and sings in duo when she’s not writing or reading.