I turned when he finished, and ran my fingers down the plait, resting it over my shoulder. “Thanks, Arthur.”
“You are welcome, my dear.” He stood a little taller and his eyes narrowed as he looked into the gardens. “You best be going. Someone is looking for you.”
He looked small from this high up, that knightly figure charging across the grounds, but his bulk frame and hair shining yellow in the morning light could not be mistaken for any other man. “Damn. I’m late.”
“He looks irate.”
“He probably is. He’s probably gonna make me run laps until I fall over.”
“Well,” Arthur said, offering the doorway, “we best be moving then. Can’t have you being punished for my keeping you.”
“It’s not the laps I’m afraid of.” I rolled my eyes playfully. “It’s the lecture.”
“Lecture?”
“About…” Being alone with you. “About being late.”
“I’m sure you can charm your way out of a lecture.”
“You don’t know Mike very well then,” I scoffed. “He’s resistant to my charms.”
As I turned away, Arthur grabbed my wrist gently. “Take care out there today, Princess. I will drop by to watch you train later, but in the meantime, keep your wits about you—watch closely for anyone who watches you too closely and do not spar with any knight you feel you can’t trust.”
“Are you worried there’s a mole?” I almost laughed.
“That, I am.” He released my wrist. “Once I arrive, you needn’t worry too much, but I have a few things to take care of before I come down. Just be careful, please.”
I nodded. “Mike will be there. I’ll be fine.”
Arthur seemed amused by that. “Very well.”
I closed his door behind me and after four steps, enough to be directly in the middle of the corridor again and not so close to looking like I was alone with Arthur, Mike popped around the corner. “Ara!”
“Morning, Mike.”
“Baby, where have you been? I sent my knights up to collect you over an hour ago. Edgar told them you were getting dressed, but now they report back that you’re not even in your room.”
“I was in the shower.”
“Ara, they looked in there.” He smiled conceitedly. “Where’ve you been?”
“I went down to the kitchen.”
He looked at Arthur’s door then back at me. “Kitchen, huh?”
“Yes.” I pushed past him. “What is your problem?”
“You know damn well what my problem is.” He grabbed my arm, stopping me as I reached the stairwell. “I told you not to spend time alone with him.”
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Ara. I know you were in his room. I can smell him all over you.”
I shrunk a little. “Well, I can do what I want.”
“Yes, you can—except be alone with him.”
I yanked my arm from his grip. “You can’t stop me from having friends.”
“Ara, grow up. I’m not trying to stop you from having friends, but you know we can’t trust him. He was Drake’s right-hand man for—”
“He’s not a mole, Mike,” I said, loud enough that Arthur probably heard. “He just wants to help.”
“Yeah.” Mike laughed sarcastically. “Help himself—to you.”
“Mike? Don’t be such a jerk.”
He dropped his arms to his sides, huffing loudly. “I’m sorry, Ara. I just—”
“You just what?”
“I hate that guy. He waltzes in here like he owns the place—tells me how to do my job, how to look after you, then wanders off with you and keeps you to himself all afternoon. I’m your best friend, and I waited so long to have you here, and now you are I’m practically barred from seeing you, but those rules don’t apply to him.”
I clicked my tongue, folding my bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Aw, poor baby’s jealous.”
His mouth split into a grin, laughter coming out in one breath. “Quiet, you, or I’ll pair with you for sparring and give you a damn good smack on the bottom.”
“Ha! Good luck. I’m faster than you.”
He laughed and took my hand. “Come on, how ’bout I show you this training hall I’ve been talking about for the last two months?”
* * *
Mike walked beside me, and the soft rain fell around us, making the countryside smell sweet like cut grass and sugar. It was a little colder on the coast for a summer than it was inland. I wrapped my arms around myself to hide from the breeze as we stepped out of the trees and into a grassy clearing.
“How’s training been going with Emily over the last few weeks?” Mike asked from a step or two ahead. “She told me you’ve become quite a little expert with a sword.”
I shrugged. “A bit.”
“I ’spose the ballet classes help there, given that fencing’s really a balance and grace thing.”
“Probably. Or just that I’m super cool.”
He laughed. “Let’s see how you do with a gun then.”
“A gun? We have guns?”
“Not yet, but we will.”
“What for?”
“Venom-filled bullets. Vampires are fast, but even they can’t stop venom infecting them if they don’t catch the bullet.”
“Cool. When do we get the guns?”
“In about a month or so. I’m putting a team of marksmen together.”
“Awesome. Do I get firearms training?”
“Uh, no.”
“Why?”
“Because ninety-eight percent accuracy on Halo does not give you the same skill out here in the real world. And besides, your dad would kill me if I put a gun in your hand.”
“Really?” I said sarcastically. “You’re afraid of my dad? We have a blood-hungry psychopath after us, and you’re afraid of my dad?”
He smirked. “Ara, you know what it’s like to sit under the glare of his disappointment.”
I shook my head. “And you think I have daddy issues.”
Mike scoffed out a throaty ball of sarcasm. “Baby, you do have daddy issues.”
Hmpf! I folded my arms.
“Anyway, back to the issue at hand. Stop distracting me,” he warned, pinching my arm.
“Ow.” I rubbed it.
“How are you going with the speed thing? Emily said you’d pretty much taken a step backward, so to speak.”
“Yeah. I get dizzy.” I rubbed my head. “I tried to flip out of Emily’s reach the other day and ended up in the lake—saturated.”
Mike burst out laughing, covering his nose. “She didn’t tell me that.”
Heat washed over my head, rising from the chest up. “I asked her not to.”
“I got the full story of your sparring with David, though. He talked you up a bit, I think.”
“No, he just went easy on me.”
“I know.” He held back his amusement. “So it’s clear we need to work on your combat methods with vampires then, but today you can spar with humans, so it should be a piece of cake.”
“The cake is a lie!” I joked, and Mike laughed. He was probably the only one around here that would get that meme, and I appreciated that. “So why should I spar with humans when you just said I need to work on vampire-to-me combat skills? You think I need a self-esteem boost, huh?”
“We can all use a little encouragement sometimes.”
“By fighting those weaker than us?”
“Weaker than you,” he said, and laughed. “But I wouldn’t be so sure you’ll win, baby. These guys might be human, but they’re Special Ops, most of them. They’re damn good at what they do.”
“Oh, joy,” I said.
It felt good to be walking outside with Mike again in the open air of the cool, shady day. It reminded me of bush walking back home in Oz. And Mike had a bounce to his step when walking on uneven ground, like he laid his foot down heavily, not calculating the surface at all. It was so human, so unlike David, who was so used to
walking with the grace of a vampire he couldn’t even pretend to be as clumsy as a human anymore. Mike hadn’t lost that yet.
“So, you know how we came in on the driveway that leads to the manor?” Mike asked.
“After or before the big scary gates?”
“After.”
“Yep.”
“Well, there’s a side road that takes you down to the training hall, and in the distance, about two minutes Lilithian-style run, is the barracks.”
“Where you spend all your time?” I grinned.
“Yup,” he beamed. “So if you’re ever looking for me, just head down there or come here to the training hall, okay?”
“Okay.” I sighed then, looking up at the murky sky. “I can’t believe the weather today. It was so sunny yesterday. What’s with all this rain?”
“Hmp.” Mike simpered. “Probably to do with your mood.”
“My mood?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you ever noticed how, when you’re sad or upset or angry… actually, even happy—not that that happens often—the weather seems to change?”
“Uh, what, like I’m a mood-stone?”
“I know you’re moo-dy. But”—he shrugged—“I dunno, I was thinking about it a few days ago. It’s just something I’ve noticed since I first came to America to stay with you. It’s not all the time, which is why I thought nothing of it ’til now. But it seems to be happening more often.”
“Trust you to notice something so trivial,” I scoffed.
Mike laughed again, placing a supportive hand to my lower back as we splodged down a mildly-slippery slope of grass. “When it comes to you, my pretty little princess, it’s my job to notice everything.”
“Fine. I’ll pay that, but the weather? That’s just weird.”
“Didn’t say it made sense.”
“Well, I hope you’re wrong.”
“Why? It’d be cool. If we want a sunny day, we’ll just bring David out to the manor.”
I smiled, and right at that moment, the sun shone down on a building in the distance, lighting up its red roof and white bricks.
Mike stopped walking, his brow lifting over a smug grin. “See?”
I cleared my throat. “Coincidence.”
He laughed softly, and we started walking again. “So, that building under the spotlight of your joy”—he paused as I rolled my eyes—“is the training hall.”
“It doesn’t look big enough to hold five hundred fighting soldiers.”
“It’s not for the entire Core. We train the Queen’s Guard there. The rest train at the barracks.”
“So, how many are in there right now?”
“The entire Guard. Fifty men of the highest skill and qualification. They stand watch around the manor to protect the queen and only the queen. The rest of the Core are having the morning off.”
“So, who are the four knights you always talk about—Blade and Falcon and that?”
“They’re your Private Guard. Appointed to be by your side at all times.”
“Whoa.” I stopped walking. “At all times?”
“Yup.”
“No way, Mike. I don’t need that kind of protection. I’m not the goddamn president.”
“Exactly. You’re the queen of a nation of killers, Ara. You need to be protected at all times.”
“No. I don’t. I need to live, Mike. I’m not having those guys follow me around everywhere I go. Especially not here at the manor. We’re heavily guarded enough as it is.”
“Mm-hm.” He kept walking.
“Mike? I mean it.”
“I know.”
“Mike!” I ran after him. “Damn it! You better not have them follow me.”
But it was stupid to even say that. Of course he would, and once those men were turned into Lilithian knights, there’d be no knowing if they were following me.
“Nervous,” Mike said, turning to me.
“Don’t pretend you’re not in my bad books, Michael.”
He laughed, the warmth of his sexy grin making his whole face cuter. “I really don’t care, Amara-Rose. You will do as you’re told. Like it or not. So you can chuck a tantrum, go ahead, it won’t change things.”
“Oh, I don’t need to throw a tantrum.” I folded my arms, my voice laced with cool malice. “I’ll find some other way to make your life hell.”
“Breathing pretty much covers that,” he joked, so I slapped his arm.
We walked past the tall windows of the rectangle building then but couldn’t see inside because the white glare of the sun reflected back the image of a short girl walking through a grassy field beside a bulky man.
He led me around to the front of the building, and as we stood by the open entrance—about four-doors wide—I took a breath to steady my nerves.
“Baby?”
“What?” I shuffled my feet, gaze on my shoes.
“Ara?” He took my hand. I looked up at his caramel eyes. “You know I was joking, right—about the annoying me by breathing thing?”
I let my shoulders relax a little, smiling. “Course I do, Mike.”
“What’s wrong then? Why the lip?” He ran the tip of his finger over my pout.
“I’m just nervous, I think. You know what I’m like in public.”
His hand tightened on mine. “Well, I’ll be here with you. And don’t think of them as strangers; think of them as family. We’re all very close. In fact”—he looked into the room behind him, then grinned—“we have a bonfire night coming up. Maybe you should come. It’d be a good chance for you to get to know some of the men.”
“Am I allowed to go to things like that, you know, Core gatherings?”
“Yeah, baby, of course you can. You’re still my best friend. I’d love to have you there.”
“Okay. Cool. I’ll come then.”
“Great.” He grinned and tugged me along to the openness of the doors, right where everyone would be able to see me. My heart told my lungs to take faster breaths, but they wouldn’t listen. “Wait here a sec.” He dropped my hand and marched forward with all the confidence of a man in charge and called the room to attention. A unified clap echoed off the bare walls as the men stomped one foot to the ground, dropping their arms to their sides wherever they stood.
My lips twitched with the urge to laugh at the seriousness on all of their faces.
“Men?” Mike called out. “We have trained hard. We have sweat blood”—he pointed to someone at the back of the room—“and there have even been some tears. But what you have worked towards is finally here. I present to you, my friend and your future queen, Princess Amara.”
I stepped into the room and it grew bigger as the space from hip-height-up emptied, each man dropping to one knee and slapping a fist over his heart. And I became smaller, not really sure what to do. “Um, hi.” I waved clumsily, instantly wanting to slap myself.
“At ease, men,” Mike said loudly, then looked at me.
The room crowded again as they stood tall, eyes forward—on me.
With each step Mike took pacing the floors, addressing the men about the day’s training activities, I tried to step behind him, staying out of sight. I caught the gaze of a few men, who gave a soft nod or a small smile of what I assumed was reassurance. I felt ridiculous, but watching them—the way they responded to Mike’s orders, the way they stood, the very manner of the room—I realized that this was real to them. I’d never really stopped to think about it, but the truth was, I was their future queen. To them it was something regal, something magnificent; to me, it was like someone stole my life and was telling me how to live it.
But these guys were here, offering their lives in service of what they believed to be real—to protect something important to a lot of people. I suddenly didn’t feel so ridiculous. I started imagining each one with Lilithian power, wondering what special gift they might have, if any at all.
“Okay.” Mike clapped his hands together. “Break up into groups of six. I want three-on-three sparring.” The ro
om came alive then with the sudden movement of fifty men, and the noise rose up between the mirrors on the walls, bouncing off the hard wood floors and filling the room with more energy than my headache could handle. I rubbed my temples until Mike pulled my hand away. “Come on. Time to meet your Private Guard.”
“Okay.” I half-walked but half-looked over my shoulder at all the men dispersed to every corner of the room, lining up sparring mats and grabbing swords from holders on the walls. They all just looked so cool. Like my very own video game, but with real blood. “Are they allowed to cut each other like that?”
Mike looked behind him. “You only get cut if you’re fooling around. These guys are trained to attack and block. They get cut, it’s their own fault.”
My eyes widened in horror.
“Ara, relax. We don’t usually have too many casualties. They spar fair and aim not to cut—for now. That’ll change soon.”
“Oh, okay.”
“And these four, fine men here”—we stopped in a mirrored section at the end of the room, where four men waited in a line with their hands behind their backs, chins lifted, feet set apart—“are your Private Guard.”
“Hey,” I said, giving a friendly wave, this time not so awkward.
“Men,” Mike said. “I’ll introduce you by name. Step forward as I address you. Ryder.”
The first man marched up, stomping his foot down hard, then clapped his arms to his sides.
“Hi,” I said.
He nodded once, looking away quickly.
“Quaid,” Mike said, and the next man came to stand in line with the first. He was shorter than Ryder, but bulkier across the shoulders, with short, shaggy hair.
I nodded at Quaid when our eyes met for a second before he looked away.
“This guy is Falcon,” Mike announced, and the man took a step toward us. He had a strong square jaw covered with a slight brush of sandy stubble, like a broader, more serious version of Mike. I didn’t even bother trying to greet him, because he looked like he’d sooner lecture me than say hello.
The last man stepped forward without an invitation and planted his hands behind his back, winking at me. He had a shameless grin, and his shaved dark hair matched his black eyes perfectly.
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