“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Because, when a vampire changes a human, they have a connection. And since Jason and I are twins—”
“How did he do it? Change her, I mean.” I sat up, tugging my skirt down over my legs where it rode up while I was laying. “I thought it wasn’t as simple as just biting? Like, I mean, what did he do different to her that hasn’t worked on other people in the past?”
“Other people? Or do you mean you?” he asked with a soft smile.
I shrugged.
“Sweetheart.” David sat up, too. “I wish I knew, but being on the Council doesn’t make you privy to all knowledge.”
“But you must have some idea, I mean, you tried to change Rochelle, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he stated. “I thought I knew what I was doing, and there’s no saying I did it wrong. She died because she was with child, Ara, but I’m not willing to test my own theories on you to see if he did something wrong, I—”
“Of course not. Why risk anything for me?”
He took my hand.
I drew it away. “So, how did Jason get the knowledge then, if even most council members don’t have it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, how do we know he did it right with me? Maybe he—”
“Look, Ara, I know how this feels.” David gently lifted my chin, holding it there until I looked into his eyes. “I know you always wondered why Emily and I never fell in love, and now she’s immortal it makes you feel more alone; cements your already ludicrous notion that Emily would’ve been better for me. But—”
“So you can read my mind today, huh?”
“No, sweetheart. I just know you too well.”
I smiled, wrapping my fingers around his to pull them from my face. “I like it that you know what I’m thinking without me having to think it.”
“Me too.” He looked down at our hands. “But, you can’t be a vampire, Ara. Don’t drag yourself through all this again—wondering. Okay? It’ll do none of us any good.”
“David?” Emily popped her head in the door.
“Yeah, Em?” He drew his eyes away from me slowly, not in any real hurry to look at her.
“Um, I think Mike might be packing. I heard his suitcase being zipped up.”
“Right.” He frowned, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “I’ll go see to him.”
Emily wandered away without another word.
“He hasn’t seen her yet, has he?” I asked.
“No.”
“Is he… is he still mad with me?”
After a deep breath, swallowing the words he was going to say, he nodded. “He’s just tired, sweetheart.”
“No.” My voice broke. “It’s like I said: he hates me.”
“No, he hates vampires. He’s hurting, Ara. Give it time, he—”
I shook my head and leaped off the bed. “I have to talk to him.”
“Wait.” David grabbed my wrist before I made it to the door. “You can’t go in there yet.”
“Why?”
His fingers tightened around my wrist. “He might hurt you.”
“David?” I looked at him, disgusted. “It’s Mike—he’d never hurt me.”
His eyes closed tightly, head dropping into the breath he exhaled. “I’m not so sure about that anymore, Ara.”
“I can handle myself.” I broke from his grip and walked away.
“Your stubbornness will get you in trouble one day,” he called.
I ignored him, walking a little faster in case he saw fit to stop me. But how could there be any danger in talking to my best friend, my Mike, the man who loved me no matter what? He may be mad, but surely he wouldn’t go as far as to actually hurt me. Leave and never come back, maybe, but not hurt me.
“Mike?” I tapped softly on his door, pushing it open. “You awake?”
Under the darkness of his drawn black curtains, I saw only his silhouette look up at me from the edge of the bed. “Get out. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Why is your suitcase by the door?” I toed it.
“Because I’m leaving,” he said, standing up to open his drawer. “I’m packing my things, and as soon as I look human again, I’m out of this godforsaken place.”
“Mike, it isn’t that bad.” I closed the door, lowering my voice. “Emily’s still alive.”
“Alive?” He spun around quickly, catching me off guard. “You call that alive?”
“Yes. It’s not like the movies, Mike. Vampires aren’t the un-dead. They live, breathe, feel. She has a goddamn soul, Mike. And she can hear everything you’re saying.”
“Good.” He unfolded his arms and shoved past me to grab his suitcase.
“Stop that.” I pushed his hand away from it. “Stop packing.”
“Ara, go away. I’m warning you.”
“Or what?” I planted my hands to my hips. “You’ll hurt me? Go ahead, Mike. What more can you do to me that I haven’t already done to myself? My life is ruined, don’t you get it?”
“See if I care, Ara. I’m done. I can’t take any more of you.”
“Mike, please. What about Em? She loves—”
“What happened to her was unfair. But she’s as good as dead to me now.” He cut the air, turning back to his drawer as the shock washed through me.
“You don’t mean that. You can’t.” I grabbed his sleeve. “I saw how you cried for her.”
“I cried for you, too!” He shoved my hand away. “I shoulda left when you flat-lined in that hospital, Ara. I shoulda gone away and gotten on with my life.”
“Mike? Look at me. Mike?” I stepped toward him again. “You don’t mean that. You’re not yourself, you’re—”
“I’m tired of you!” He spun around fast, knocking my touch from his skin again. I stumbled back, finding my footing against the wall as his iron grip wrapped both my arms, pinning me there. “I want you to stay away from me, Ara. When I leave, when I finally escape this Hell I’ve been stuck in, I never want to see you, or your vampire friends, ever again. Do I make myself clear?”
I searched his stone eyes, my mouth agape, trying to find some hint that maybe he was just angry; that he didn’t really mean that.
“Answer me!” He shook me.
“Mm-hm.” I nodded.
His fingers tightened around my arms, almost twice wrapping, his eyes forcing the message a little deeper. And for a moment, I thought I saw a twinge of regret wash across his face, but it was quickly recovered by the seething anger that transformed my loving friend into a fiend.
“Good. Now get out.” He turned away.
I bolted from the room, dodging the extended hand of David as I passed him in the corridor.
“What did you do to her?” I heard him say as I reached the hall-stand, grabbed my keys and flung the front door open.
The burst of fresh air and warm golden sun circulated my broken heart, making me feel silly for crying when everything out here, everything real, was all right, normal. All those people across the road swimming and playing by the lake had friends, family, had nothing to ever fear or lose. I hated them all. I hated everyone, everything: the birds, the trees, even the cool breeze.
He was leaving. I hurt him so bad he was finally leaving. And worse, this would kill Emily. She’d never forgive me.
I jumped in the car and, with the wind blowing my tangled hair around my face, sped down the street, fleeing the confines of my shattered life.
* * *
Leaving my shoes, my keys, and my purse in the car was probably a bad idea, but the once familiar feeling of home was calling to me, luring me toward the trees so intensely I never even thought to lock the doors. I needed to get there—needed to get there fast.
Everything Mike said, everything I knew he felt for me now was eating me up slowly. I couldn’t stop him from packing his suitcase, couldn’t make him stay. And now, I understood how Mom felt when Dad left—when he zipped up his few belongings into a bag, kis
sed me on the forehead and said I’m sorry, then walked away and never came back. She had no power to stop him, just like I have no right to stop Mike; he wouldn’t even stay now if I offered to be with him after David left. He was done with me.
The soles of my bare feet ached by the time the lake’s glassy surface showed itself: a glimmering entity among plaid browns and greens, like a kingdom of magic with the power to ease my troubled soul.
As I was about to exhale relief, a figure under the water caught me off guard, turning the breath into a gasp. I pinned my spine to the trunk and watched as dark hair broke the surface of the lake, two hands flipping it back and sending beads of glistening water into the sunlight above the man.
He was the first person I’d ever seen out here other than David. I almost felt insulted, like he was trespassing on my land. He had no picnic that I could see, no friends or boat, only a shirt and a towel resting in the warmth on my rock.
He swam toward the shore, and with each stroke of his hands through the water, I noticed a tattoo circling his upper arm. He was young, from what I could tell hiding all the way back here in the trees, maybe only as old as David. And quite possibly very good looking. But that didn’t excuse him being in my secret place.
With my arms folded, I walked with all the intention of throwing his stuff to the ground and demanding he leave at once.
“Hey!” I said, meeting him at the edge of the lake, but as our eyes locked, I froze, an instant of recognition passing through me. “Jason.”
“Ara?” He stepped up the sandy bank, beads of glinting water rolling down his oil-panting skin, yearning to blend with the lake again. “We keep meeting like this.”
“I—” I folded my arms, taking a step back. “I thought you were confined to castle duties?”
His warm grin disappeared under the towel as he dried his hair into a careless mess. “As far as anyone’s concerned, I’m there right now.”
My throat tightened. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Well, I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you’re implying.” He pointed his towel at me. “You snuck up on me, remember?”
True. For both times we met recently.
“And besides, unless you’re actually married into my family, you’re the one trespassing.” He hoisted himself up on the rock and folded his arms, looking ever so much like David—the boy, the one from school: carefree and fun-loving David.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I looked down at my feet, remembering the fox’s punishment for trespassing. “I just needed to get away.”
Jason leaped off the rock, landing beside me with a gentle touch to my elbow. “Ara, what happened?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” The fold of my arms tightened, as did my brow. His voice had been almost soothing enough to make me want to confide in him. I could feel him studying my face, tracing every inch of it with a gaze that also penetrated my thoughts.
“You’re not fine,” he concluded.
And he was right. I drew a tight breath through my nose, biting my lip. I would not cry in front of him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Yes, I am fine. And I’m not talking to you. So, you need to leave.”
“Me, leave?” He stood back, practically laughing. “I own this land. I can stay if I wish.”
“You own part of this land.”
“Yeah,” he said, stepping closer. “This part. So, if you want to be alone, you’ll have to go over there.” My gaze followed his arm to the island.
“Maybe I will then.” I started walking.
He grabbed my wrist. “Wait. I’m kidding, okay. I’m just being playful. You don’t have to leave.”
“Well, I need to think, and I can’t do that around you.”
“Why?”
“Because, a: you’ll read my thoughts, and b: you just destroyed my entire life. And if it weren’t for the fact that I know how badly you could hurt me, I’d hit you so many times right now that my hands would break!”
“Me?” he said, pointing to his chest. “What have I done this time?”
My lip curled. Was he trying to deny hurting Emily, or trying to brush it off like it didn’t matter? “Emily! You ignorant twit. You bit Emily!”
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah. That.”
“I—” The distant sound of a dog barking stopped his probable confession.
He smiled instead, looking past me. “Ara-Rose, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
I spun around to see a great fluffy canine bolting toward me, his tongue hanging out over his white fur.
Jason swung his towel over his shoulder, squatting to scratch the dog’s head where it stopped at his feet. “Hey, boy.”
The pair looked so sweet together like that, with the dog groaning and whining, licking Jason’s wrists and face, that I smiled.
“Petey,” Jason whispered into its ear, turning its head. “This is Ara.”
I squatted too, entranced by Jason’s kinship with this fluffy monstrosity, which was obviously returned.
Petey sat looking at me expectantly.
“He wants you to say hello,” Jason said.
“Oh, um. I’m sorry. How rude of me.” I extended a hand, and the dog placed his heavy, gristly paw in place. “Pleased to meet you, Petey.”
He whimpered his response, huffing heavily, his mouth turned up into what looked like a smile.
“What kind of dog is he?” I asked. His pale-blue eyes seemed almost out of place against his stark white fur, like transparent windows that showed right into his warm soul. I’d never seen anything like him.
“Siberian Husky.” Jason stood up. “Do you like dogs?”
“I’m more of a cat person,” I said.
Jason turned back to smile at me. “You never seemed to like Skittles.”
I stood too, staying close to Petey. “I affectionately disliked that cat.”
“Like how you feel about me.”
Petey gave a low groan.
“I actually just plain dislike you, no affection before it,” I said.
Jason looked at the dog then and nodded. “I know. Told ya.”
“You know what?” I looked at Petey, too. “Wait, are you talking to the dog?”
“He likes you.” Jason dried the remainder of water from his dark, very messed hair, and dropped the towel on the rock. “He says my memory does your face no justice.”
“He can read your mind?”
“No.” Jason laughed. “I exchange images with him mostly—kind of give them to him.”
“Oh.” I smiled at the dog, then looked at Jason, who laughed once, keeping his back to me. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Jason turned around, his shirt in hand.
Without thinking about who or what I was touching, I waltzed over and rested a fingertip to the tattoo on his arm: the two thin lines with an unreadable inscription in the banner. “This.”
Jason looked up from my gentle touch and threaded his thumbs through his shirt, stepping away. “It’s uh… you know, you really shouldn’t be out here, Ara. David will be upset when he finds you were here alone.”
“What! How do you know about Da—”
“I’ve known he was here since before he knew he was coming.”
“Then, why haven’t you turned him in?”
He sighed, almost annoyed, slipping his shirt over his head. “I may hate him, want to see him suffer, but I won’t take you down with him. If they come for him…” He left the ending to imagination.
“So, you won’t tell Arthur?”
“No. But be aware, our hunters will discover the true identity of the girl they’re following soon enough. They’re not the smartest bunch, so I’d give it about two months. But, you better let him go after that, Ara.” My gaze rolled up as Jason walked closer. “He won’t leave without your blessing. He will stick around, and he will get caught.”
“What makes you so sure he won’t leave?”
“I just know him, okay. Mind you”
—his eyes journeyed to distant thought—“he’s changed a lot since he left.”
“In what way?”
“Well, for one, the brother I grew up with would, in no way, put up with the rubbish he does from you.”
“Rubbish?”
“Yes. All your love-confusion, your morals, your beliefs about vampires and killing. It’s not like him to tolerate so much… emotion. Despite that, he’d have left by now if he was going to.”
“So, he needs my blessing before he’ll go?”
Jason shrugged. “Like I said, you have about two-three months tops. Get used to the idea that he’s leaving, Ara. It’ll benefit you both.”
That seemed to be a repeated statement in my life.
“So? You gonna tell me what happened—why you’re so sad?” He sat on the rock again and patted his shoulder. “I’m told this is a pretty good tear-catcher.”
I laughed a little, and despite my hatred for what he did to Emily, a bigger part of me felt so in need to talk, so in need to discuss all my problems with someone who had no stake in my heart, figuratively, that I actually considered confiding in him.
“Come on then,” he said, and rested his arms so casually over his knees that he looked human—more than David did when he was pretending to be human. I didn’t feel scared or tense around him like I should, which only made me more confused. It was like he’d shed a shell, become somebody new, somebody I could almost see myself being friends with—maybe even trust.
“You can trust me, Ara.” He ran his fingers through his hair, flipping it back as he answered my thought. “I told you, the guy who hurt you last year is gone, okay. I’m not the same.”
Swallowing my better judgment, I placed my hand in his and let him hoist me onto the rock beside him, all the while hearing mothers everywhere tell their daughters this was the bad example; that I was the cautionary tale; the girl that ran ‘upstairs’ in a horror film. I was not an example to be followed. Yet, here I was, knowing that, and staying put anyway.
Petey sat by my foot, tilting his snout up to lick my ankle—a voiceless reassurance, I think. I tugged my skirt a little further down my legs, lifting each one to rest the fabric between my skin and the sticky, gristly heat of the rock.
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