Dark Secrets Box Set

Home > Other > Dark Secrets Box Set > Page 40
Dark Secrets Box Set Page 40

by Angela M Hudson


  “Yep.” I grinned and leaped through the dark, landing with a bounce on the mattress. “I’m sitting on your bed.”

  “Maybe you can keep it warm ’til I get there.”

  “Yeah, sure, I’m gonna stay in bed for the next few days,” I said sarcastically.

  He paused again, then after a long breath through what sounded like his nose, asked, “So, how are things with the boyfriend?”

  “Not so good.” I winced, not meaning to say that. How was the truth so automatic with Mike? “We’ve kind of decided to break up after summer.” I think.

  “What? Why? I mean, why would you do that? I thought you guys were a sure thing?” Mike’s sympathetic tone brought my pain to the surface.

  “I don’t want to, Mike. But he. He has a. Kind. Of. Problem.” I sniffled before the tears came breaking through.

  “What is it, baby? You can tell me.”

  “I know, Mike, but—” I could feel Mike in the room with me, the way he’d normally hang up the phone right about now, and no more than two minutes later be knocking on my window. But that wasn’t possible anymore, and I missed it. “I… he has a secret and I have to keep it,” I said, sniffling. “I want to tell you. But I can’t.”

  “Ara, baby, you know damn well if there’s a secret someone says you shouldn’t tell, you absolutely shou—”

  “It’s not like that, Mike. Okay?” I took a moment to compose myself. “Anyway, none of it matters. He has to leave, and after the last leaf of autumn falls, he’ll be gone.”

  “What?” Mike scoffed. “What the hell is that? Some fairy-tale timeline bull crap? Leaves falling? Ara! Did he hurt you?”

  “No, Mike. He didn’t hurt me. I mean, not physically. I’m hurting inside, like I always do, but it isn’t his fault. It’s my decision that caused it.”

  “Wait. Your decision? Ara. If he hurt you, I swear to God, I’ll—”

  “Mike, he never hurt me, okay? He asked me to come with him. To go away with him.”

  A moment of silence passed. “Where?”

  “Far away. I’d never be able to come back.”

  I actually heard a dense cloud wander into his breath—the kind that makes everything silent before the imminent explosion occurs.

  “Don’t worry, Mike. I told him no,” I added quickly, before he could freak out, even though it was a lie.

  The explosion came across the miles in a loud whoosh of air, the phone line interpreting it as static. “So, you… what, you’re breaking up when?”

  “When winter comes—maybe before. He said I could count on him staying until at least the end of autumn.”

  “And how…” I heard him sniff once. “How are you coping with that?”

  The sadness of the idea felt so final, so eternal now that I’d said it aloud. “Not sure.”

  “Well, you still have me.”

  I laughed out in one short burst of air. “I know. I’ve always had you.”

  “It’s just not really a consolation, is it?”

  “Don’t be like that, Mike.”

  “I’m sorry. I just…” He paused for a few ticks of the clock on the wall. “Do you hate me, Ar? Is that why you didn’t take my calls?”

  “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”

  “Because of… because of what happened that night.”

  It crushed me to realize he thought I hated him. Not one bone in my body could ever hate him. “It would be easier if I hated you.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” he said softly.

  “Why?”

  “It hurts me to think of you wanting to hate me.”

  “Why?”

  “You know how I feel about you, Ar.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “I don’t think you do. I don’t think you get it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t… you can do no wrong. All that stuff—everything—it doesn’t change the fact that I will always need you in my life. You know that, right?”

  “I know, Mike. I just…” I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from the fact that I wanted more, and he didn’t. “Can we just forget it ever happened, please?”

  “Already forgotten.”

  I sighed and stood up, looking out at the twinkling stars in the sky to the west. They reminded me of David—after our blissful night on the rooftop—and for the rest of my life now, they always would. Which was funny, really, because while thoughts of my dark knight remained with the midnight sky, thoughts of my Mike—my warmth—would always be with the beaches and sand and the blue skies. Two separate parts that made my days whole; made my world whole. It reminded me of my earlier analogy of that song, “Unintended”, how I’d said it was like the sad story of the night sky in love with the sun. Except, I was the earth in love with both the night and the day. I couldn’t really see how a happy ending could resolve from that.

  “You okay, Ara?” Mike asked.

  “Just thinking how much I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll be there soon,” he said.

  “I know, but you’ll be gone soon too.”

  Mike sighed, and the sound came through so perfectly down the line that it strengthened the memory of his face: his jaw, with an almost arrogant set to it that was completely softened by his charming smile—the kind of smile that made you a part of his world. I could see his shaggy sandy-colored hair, the blond tones lighter in the summer, and his autumn-brown eyes—deep, like leaf-covered pools. It made me miss him so much more.

  “Where are you, Ara? What world of thought have you slipped away to this time?” he asked in a soft, almost whisper.

  “A world where there’s no up or down. No right or wrong.” Where I could have Mike, and keep David.

  “Just hold tight a few more days, kid. I’ll be there to pull you out soon.”

  I smiled to myself. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, kiddo.”

  22

  “I’ll be back before dark,” I called to Dad, closing the lid on Vicki’s sewing box.

  “It’s going to rain. You’ll need a coat,” he replied from upstairs.

  I stuffed the stolen pin into my pocket, taking a quick look at my bare arms, then tiptoed out the front door, pulling it quietly closed behind me.

  “Take a coat,” David said sternly.

  “God!” I jumped back from the vampire. “You gotta stop popping up like that.”

  “Coat.”

  “Ergh, fine.” I went to obey but stopped, folding my arms. “Actually, no. If you want me to bring one, you can go get it.”

  His eyes slowly narrowed above a tight jaw, an invisible rope bringing his shoulders back and straight. I swallowed, stirred by the authoritative stance, about to shift my hand and place it on the doorknob. But a breath of wind swept my hair back and David grabbed my hand, leading me to the car—with my jacket over his forearm.

  “I love how you do that.”

  “Hm,” is all he said.

  We sat quietly on the first half of the drive out to the lake. Not a peaceful silence, either; a deliberate one. I had nothing good to say to him today after he bought me that dress last night. I loved it, still loved him, but there’s no way I could let this go without at least yelling at him first.

  “Vicki seems happy about your new dress,” David chimed, a flash of pure white teeth gleaming through his dark pink lips.

  “Hmpf.” I folded my arms.

  “Oh, come on, Ara. You’re not really mad, are you? It’s a dress, let it go.”

  “It’s not the dress I have a problem with.” And all of a sudden, we were arguing again. “It’s the fact that you went behind my back. You picked through mine or Vicki’s brain until you found what you wanted, then took it upon yourself to force me in a direction I told you I didn’t want to go.”

  He was quiet for a moment before saying, “But you love the dress.”

  Even though I refused to look at his charming smile, I could still feel its warmth. “I do love the dress. B
ut I’m just afraid it’ll always be like this, David. That you won’t respect my decisions.” Like the one to stay human.

  “I never thought of it that way.” He looked down at the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Ara. I must have misinterpreted your thoughts yesterday when we talked. I’ll take the dress back.”

  “No. Don’t do that.” I choked on my own words. “Just… in future, even if my thoughts indicate the opposite, listen to me when I say no.”

  He nodded. “So you’ll wear the dress?”

  “David, of course I’ll wear the dress. I love the dress.”

  “I know you do.”

  “I know you know I do.” And all the irritation over the dress evaporated with one flash of his irresistibly cute dimples, making the sun rise again in my world. “Thank you, by the way.”

  “For what?”

  “The other night when you closed my window. It stormed, and everything would’ve been drenched if you—Ah!” I projected forward, nearly striking the dash when the car screeched to a halt in the middle of the empty road. “David! What the hell!” Prying my fingers from their grip of fear on the seat, I slapped him hard. But he didn’t even flinch.

  “When was this, Ara? Which night are you talking about?”

  “Friday. Why?” I rubbed at my now throbbing hand.

  “Tell me exactly what you think I did.” He grabbed my face, turning it from one side to the other.

  “Umm, you closed my window.” I pushed his hand off my cheek. “Why the sudden freak-out?”

  After a moment of stillness, he looked over his shoulder, then back at the dash. “Because, Ara, I never close your window. And neither does your father. We know you hate that. I’d more likely have moved your books aside if it was going to rain.”

  My blood ran cold. “Then, who did close it?”

  “I’m pretty sure my brother came to visit you.”

  “What? How do you know that, and what makes you so sure it wasn’t my dad that closed it?”

  David reluctantly turned his gaze to me. “The scent.”

  “The scent?”

  “Yes. It’s nearly exactly the same as mine, only… I should’ve followed my gut when I realized it was on things I never touch—things I’ve never been near.”

  “Are you saying there was some strange vampire in my room? While I was sleeping? Oh my God.” I shook my hands around, taking short breaths. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  “It’s okay, Ara. Really. He would never hurt you. You have nothing to worry about.” He placed a calming hand to my shoulder.

  I didn’t feel convinced.

  “He’s like me, my love—in so many ways,” he said, rubbing my back. “Just… not quite as dark. He was just curious about you.”

  “Then why did he sneak into my room? What is it with you Knight boys?”

  “It’s my fault. I wouldn’t let him meet you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my personal life is not his business.”

  “How is it not? He’s your brother.”

  He looked forward, almost pouting. “You’re starting to sound like my uncle.”

  I reached across and touched his arm. “David?”

  He looked at me again.

  “Tell me why you won’t just let him meet me. It would’ve saved all this”—I motioned to us, stopped dead in the middle of the desolate road—“drama.”

  “He doesn’t fit into your world as well as I do—anymore.” David wrapped his fingers over his thumb, cracking it absentmindedly. “I was afraid he might scare you.”

  “Scare me?”

  “Yes.” He smiled into his lap, tossing a sideways glance at me after. “He can come across as a little… malevolent.”

  “And you tell me not to worry that he was in my room? With me? Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “David!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “How do you know he didn’t do anything unsavory? I mean, like… touch me, breathe on me? Look at me?”

  “I know my brother. He’s… for all his faults, violence and depravity are not among them. He wouldn’t do anything dishonorable to you.”

  “Then why did you study me like that?” I asked, referring to the way he checked my neck when he pulled up.

  “Involuntary reaction.” He shrugged, looking so human when he did that. “It was silly of me, though. If he’d bitten you, you’d already…”

  “Do you really think he’d have done that?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. I guess I was just worried he might.”

  “But you said he’s not the kind of guy who’d do that.”

  “I… I know. But…”

  “But what? Is he or isn’t he? Should I be worried, or not?”

  “No, but—” His gaze drifted, coming back a second later with a trace of alarm. “If you ever see me or speak to me, and you feel something is slightly off, just… just ask me something only I’d know, and don’t think about the answer.”

  “Why? Can he read minds, too?”

  “Yes. And not just human minds, either.”

  “What, like, dogs and cats?”

  “And vampires.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  I held back the urge to laugh. “So he’s more powerful than you. I bet that sucks.”

  He brushed my hair from my face and stared at me intently, a hint of a smile returning to one corner of his mouth. “What would suck is having your fourteen-year-old brother inherit the height in the family, while you were left… short.”

  “Hey! I am not short.”

  He laughed and put both hands back on the steering wheel. “Yes, you are.”

  “Well, you make up in annoyance what I lack in height.” I folded my arms. “So? Can I meet him?”

  “Who, Jason?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No,” he answered swiftly.

  “Why?”

  “There’s no need. He was obviously satisfied.”

  “Ew! That’s so creepy.” I dusted myself off as if I’d walked through an empty web.

  “I’m sorry, Ara. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

  I swiped my hair from my face, looking out the window. “You’d better.”

  David put the car in gear and we pulled away again, gaining speed a little faster than usual. I sat watching the world go by for a minute, sorting out my inner fears by imagining everything: that vampire slipping through my window and standing over me, his face and his smile just like David’s, while his eyes told a different story. And that damn cat. He was on my bed that night. How could he call himself a guard cat if he couldn’t even alert me to strange predators sneaking into my room? I bet he would’ve slept through my death, had it been a murderous vampire.

  “So, you said I’d already be changed if he’d bitten me. How long does it take?”

  “I didn’t say you’d be changed. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. It’s not important.”

  I folded my arms. “You always say that.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, I’m still curious. If I was turned, how long would it take to become a vampire?”

  “A day or so. For some it can take only hours.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s based on the strength of your immune system. The venom kills it slowly, and when it finally gives out, you change permanently into a vampire—assuming you have the gene.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “Well, it won’t matter, because you refuse to become what I am. So—”

  “David! Tell me. What if he’d bitten me, and I didn’t have the gene?”

  “Then”—he went quiet again until he looked at me—“you die.”

  “Whoa! Hold on.” I turned in my seat. “So if you feed off a human and you don’t kill them, they become a vampire?”

  “It’s not that simple. Like I said, they have to have that recessive gene,”
he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve never turned someone. Of all the people I left alive in my years, not one has survived. My uncle is the only person I know who’s done it successfully.” He picked at the crumbling leather where his fingers had gripped the steering wheel during our abrupt halt. “It’s more complicated than just biting, I believe. In fact, the exact method’s a closely guarded secret—to prevent unauthorized transformations. All I do know is if Jason and I hadn’t been compatible for the change when my uncle turned us, we would have grown ill.”

  “Grown ill?” I said the words to myself as they sunk in. “So… it’s kinder to kill them?”

  “Yes.” He looked back at me. “Our venom numbs the skin and induces euphoria; they desire the bite, the kill. Then we drain them and… they die from blood loss,” his voice softened. “It’s peaceful, serene. But if we leave them alive, the venom becomes parasitic; they get a fever, their immune system deteriorates, as do the cognitive functions, then they fall into a coma. It’s a degrading and painful death.”

  “Can someone survive if they don’t have the gene?”

  “I’ve heard of a few cases. But it’s rare, and they’re never quite the same again.”

  “So… I could choose to give up my life—to be with you—and it might not work?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “Oh my God!”

  “It’s okay, Ara. Do you remember that feeling you had at the lake? The uh”—he smiled, rubbing his chin—“gravitational pull?”

  “Yes?”

  “That’s how I know you’re my soul mate, and—”

  “Really?” I pulled the seatbelt away from my neck a little so I could turn more in my seat. “I just put that down to the spell of lust, you know? The vampire thing—”

  “It wasn’t.” He answered too quickly.

  “Okay, so that… pull means I can be changed?”

  “Kind of. It is my belief that soul mates are designed for each other perfectly. If you couldn’t be changed, it would be incredibly unjust.”

  I wasn’t sure I understood what he meant. Was he saying there was a science to this, or was he saying it was some unfounded belief that I must have the gene simply because he loved me?

  “Did you feel that gravitational pull with the person who changed you—with your uncle?”

 

‹ Prev