by A. M. Hudson
I'm going to think something for the purpose of a test. They’re not my real thoughts, okay? I said.
He turned in his seat, intrigue lighting up his eyes and the sudden smile that slipped across his lips.
I tried not to smile back, making my jaw tight as I leaned on my hand and, without sending the thought to anyone at all, told myself how lovely Jason looked in that white shirt, with his hair smoothly brushed back, one thick lock falling against his brow, his bright green eyes casting beams of excitement across my heart every time they met mine. But David didn't even flinch. Nothing. There was no way he could hold the anger in if he heard that kind of thought.
It was confirmed. He couldn’t hear me unless I projected a thought.
Okay, test done. I smiled at Jase.
He bowed his head, touching his heart.
The midday sun sat over the manor, offering more shadows in the corridors than light. I pushed the library door open and my eyes went straight up to the top of the bookshelves wrapping the windows on either side of the fireplace. They were normally decked out, packed tightly with brown spines and a party of dust motes dancing in the sunlight. But, today, the shelves were mostly empty, the books piled up on tables and chairs, making small cities over the wood floors throughout both levels of the room.
The new librarian looked up from her pile and bowed her head once before going back to her all-important task of cataloguing and labelling. She hadn’t been made immortal yet, and the sound of her very human heart caught me off guard a little, a part of me wondering then if she was safe in here without a knight on watch. Then again, she was still alive, wasn’t she? No one had eaten her yet. So, I shrugged it off and grabbed the gold railing, my hand sliding over it on the way up the stairs to the second floor. As I reached the top, though, a cold palm cupped my mouth, gagging my scream. The mighty force of my elbow went into the person’s ribs, but he just laughed, dragging me by the waist into a nook between two shelves.
“So what was that all about?” he said, releasing me.
“Jase!” I slapped his chest lightly, not really able to pull my hand back far enough to do it hard in this tiny space. “You scared me. And what was what all about?”
“At breakfast this morning.” He grinned. “That sweet train of thought you went off on.”
“Oh. Um.” I poked my head out and checked down both corridors of the balcony, peering into the lower level as well before sliding back into our little niche. “David has a new power.”
“Broader mind reading.”
“Yeah.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I knew it. I just knew it.”
“Why do you say that?”
We walked out of the space and into the openness of the library again. “And you were testing if he could read random thoughts?”
“Yeah,” I said with a bit of irritation. “But you didn't answer my question. What do you know about all this?”
He sat down on the armchair by the shelf, sighing. “He can't read random thoughts. But he can read projected thoughts, and not just your projected thoughts, either.”
“Yours too?” My eyes widened.
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god.” I sat down on the lamp table beside him. “Are you serious? I mean, how do you know?”
“I was walking the labyrinth the other day, and our paths crossed. He greeted me as usual and, in my solemn state, I thought how nice it’d be to punch him in the jaw.”
My mouth dropped a little.
“Anyway, it was weird. He kinda . . . he smiled like something was funny, then continued on his way without saying anything.”
“So you think he heard your thought?”
“I…well, yeah. I pretty much screamed it to the gods.” He laughed.
“You hate him—David?”
“No.” His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his thumbs, running one over the other a few times. “I don't. But I wish I had his life.”
I smiled softly. “I didn't take you for the kingly sort.”
“Not his life as king, Ara.” He bumped me softly with his elbow. “If I were David, I would have run away with you, lived a normal life, free of all this.”
I placed both hands gently in my lap, looking around at all this. “It’s safer here.”
“No, it’s not. And David knows that, but he cares more about the throne than he does about—” He swallowed his own words, almost physically choking on them. “I'm sorry. I shouldn’t speak that way about him. I—”
“Jase?” I stood as he walked across the room. “It’s okay, really. You—”
“I better go,” he cut in, turning around to face me again. “I'm not supposed to be alone with you.”
“We’re not alone.” I motioned to the librarian downstairs.
Jase gave her a quick smile, which landed on his feet after. “This is too alone for my brother’s wishes. I’ll see ya at dinner.” He patted my shoulder then disappeared, and I stood for a few moments among the shelves and the smell of old pages trying to remember what I came into the library for in the first place.
The housekeeper said he was in the study, the librarian said he was in the garden, and the gardener told me to look in the Throne Room. But as I climbed the stairs of the Great Hall after searching all those places, I heard him call my name.
“Arthur, there you are.”
“You were looking for me?” He caught up on the midway, casually leaning on the railing when he stopped. He looked like human-Arthur today with his hair still wet from a shower, a white T-shirt over denim jeans, sporting that unshaven look that suited his nephews so well.
“Everywhere,” I said, leaning beside him.
“We must have been on a wild goose chase. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why?”
He balanced his elbow on the railing, cupping a hand over his wrist. “There was a pregnancy test in the infirmary storage closet. Did you take it?”
I held it up. “Why? Did you want it for something?”
“Why are you doing a pregnancy test?”
“I still haven’t got my. . .” I paused on the word, knowing Arthur was old-fashioned. “My, uh—”
“Period?”
I laughed a little. “Um, yeah. So, I thought I’d just see if some miracle had occurred.”
Arthur stood up.
“What?” I stood up, too.
“My dear, a pregnancy to my nephew would not be a miracle. It would be a tragedy.”
My shoulders dropped. “I know. I just. . . a part of me just—”
“Wants his baby.”
“Yeah.” I looked at my feet. “I love him. I want to carry his child. Is that selfish?”
“No, my dear.” He touched my shoulder. “And to be excited about the miracle of life, even if it meant your husband’s death, would not be a sin, either. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to say that.”
“No, you were right, Arthur. If I have a baby with him, there’s no one else that can use the—” I covered my mouth to whisper, “Dagger of Yahanna on Drake.”
“Yes, but I was quick-tongued, Amara. All life is a miracle, no matter the consequence.”
“But, in this case, also means death.” I toyed with the small box.
He cupped his hands over mine and the box. “Please don't do that test.”
“But, Arthur, if you and I are going to . . . you know, go all Thanksgiving and get happy with a turkey baster, I need to make sure I'm not putting myself through that for nothing.”
“I know. But . . . please wait. David will journey to Elysium this weekend to free the prisoners, you can do it then.”
“Why then?”
“If he’s around when you. . . if you were to discover that you were pregnant, and he, with his ability to read your thoughts again, discovered this, he would not waste time. He would leave immediately to kill Drake.”
“You think?” I looked at the test.
“I am sure of it.”
“Okay.
” I handed the test to Arthur. “Hold onto this for me then. I’ll do it on Saturday.”
Arthur smiled, bowing a little as he backed away.
“Oh, and, Arthur.” I reached out for him.
“Yes, my dear?”
“Um, there’s been a new development.” I folded my arms and walked closer, half checking for sly ears. “With. . . With that new power I told you about.”
He cleared his throat, stepping close enough to be accused of wanting a hug. “David’s mind reading ability?”
“Yes.” I checked over my shoulder then leaned in to whisper in his ear. “He can read Jason’s projected thoughts.”
Arthur’s spine straightened. “Good God.”
“Yeah. He’s pretty damn powerful.”
He leaned on the railing again, looking down at the test before tucking it in his back pocket. “The left-handed child.”
“Huh?”
“David. He was always the left-handed child, so I wasn’t surprised when Jason—the right-handed—turned out to have a broader range of skills than his brother upon being turned. But with David having taken his oath, the added power of Mother Nature is like gaining another layer of immortality. His left brain will be developing at a rapid rate, giving him skills on equal to, possibly greater than, his brother.”
I laughed. “Only half of that made sense, Arthur.”
His lips spread in an easy grin. “The powers one gains when becoming immortal are based greatly on which side of the brain they use more.”
“So, left-brained people get more power?”
“No. It’s not about greater or weaker powers, but which powers. I was ambidextrous in my human life.” He held out both hands. “When I turned, the function in my brain which allowed me to use both sides simultaneously also gave me the ability to think at a higher level of consciousness—to see past the impossible, bypass the rules of physics and control things others couldn’t.”
“So, if David’s brain is essentially becoming ambidextrous, could he end up with powers like yours?”
“I’m not sure. The strength of his coronation cannot change his brain’s imprint. He cannot suddenly gain power that was never possible; it will merely open his mind to what it was capable of before. Whatever Jason is capable of—” His eyes narrowed, his gaze distant. “David may be very soon, also.”
“So I should watch to see if he starts writing with his right hand?” I laughed.
“No. Watch your thoughts, and I will make sure I watch mine.”
I felt a chill pass through me. “What if he found out about. . .”
“He can never find out what happened between us in that training hall, Amara. Ever. Because it will not just be my head on a spike—” He turned and looked at me. “It’ll be yours.”
I wanted to object, tell him David would never do that to me. But Arthur was right. He did it to Pepper, he tried to do it to Jason, and being his wife did not place me above the law in David’s mind. He’d even said as much. If I broke the law by fornicating or even plotting to fornicate with his uncle, he’d punish me to the full extent of the law. Unless. . .
“Wait! Aren’t I allowed to have more than one husband?”
“Yes. But that won’t protect you from what we’ve done in the past, my dear. And, in order to marry another man, you must submit your intent to marry with the Lower Parliament and it must be approved by the people before you can so much as think about touching him.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Our laws on fidelity are ironclad.”
“Do you think we should. . .?”
He laughed, his sweet smile warming his blue eyes, showing the younger, human version of Arthur. “No. Absolutely not, my dear. That would be suicide, and I don’t fancy explaining to my nephew why we’ve suddenly developed a love enough to marry.”
“You’re right. Sorry.” I screwed my face up in awkward frown. “I wasn’t really thinking.”
“It’s quite all right.” He wrapped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close for a second. “We’ll figure this out. For now, mind your thoughts and bide your time. And hope to God you’re not carrying his child, or this fight will be over before it’s begun.”
I nodded, sighing out my disappointment as Arthur walked away.
Court was packed. More bodies had crammed themselves into that Throne Room since David returned as king than they had on the day of my coronation. I glanced at my husband on his throne and offered a smile, standing taller as I walked across the platform in front of the hundreds, all waiting for an appointment with their king. I could smell the tasty blood of those who had come over from the Dark Side—a number that far outweighed the amount of heartbeats I could hear in the room—and rather than making me hungry, it made me uneasy. If all those vampires suddenly turned on my people, it would be a slaughter without chance for a war.
“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes. Where have you been all day, my love?” David reached for my hand as I sat down. “I asked after you, but no one seemed to know where you were.”
“I had business to take care of.”
“Business?” His brow arched.
“Yes.”
“And what business does a queen have that she cannot share with her king?”
The noise of the people had a gentle kind of hum to it, enough that I almost felt like a human in a room full of humans—like none of the people in the first few rows could hear our private chatter if they wanted. “Talk about it later?”
He smiled, squeezing my hand gently. “This suits you.”
“What does?”
“This.” He nodded to the adoring masses. “Being queen.”
“You think?”
“Yes.” He leaned a little closer, closing the gap between our chairs. “Wanna know a secret?”
“Mm-hm.” I smiled, loving the burn of excitement my heart felt every time he came back down to earth long enough to be My David again.
“I always dreamed of this. Always wanted to be king. But, in all my fantasies, had never imagined such a queen beside me—could never have crafted such a beautiful creature as you.”
“Aw, shucks.”
“I’m not kidding, Ara,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I know we give you a hard time. I know I’m on your back a lot lately about being a perfect queen, but you rise to every challenge I set, and I’m proud of you. And I’m proud to sit beside you as your king.”
I held very still, taking a moment to bask in the warmth of his words. “So, nice-David got out of bed today?”
He laughed. “He does that . . . on occasion.”
I squeezed his hand back. “I miss you.”
“I know.” He sat tall in his chair again as Walter banged the stick, settling the room to silence.
“High Lord of the Court, please present the first case,” I said.
Chapter Two
The House of the Damned had grown since we first built it. In only a few months, the rectangle building, with enough space to sleep ten children comfortably, now had its own observation wing, secure section, adoption offices, and staff cafe—for the Lilithians and humans. Its expanse of one-building-tall, fifteen-cars-long, had grown to two stories high on the west wing and sat in an L shape at least thirty cars long, shining like a glorious shrine under the daylight among the green fields. It was a place anyone would be glad to call home, and I felt a pang of pride for making it all happen. We’d come a long way from those days I sat merely thinking about the children, recording the nightmares they caused me in my diary.
I wandered down the hillside, stomping my feet a little harder than necessary for a light-footed immortal, driven toward the Damned House like a child on her way to a play-date, but stopped when I heard my name. “Oh, hey, Jase. Didn’t see you there.”
“Come ‘ere a sec?” He curled his arm inward, waving me over.
I detoured toward the square of cement, catching the basketball that bounced in my direction. “When did we get a hoop?”
/> He looked up at the glass-backed board. “Mike just had it installed. I’m testing it out.”
“Cool.” I ditched the ball and watched it slip through the hoop without touching the sides. “Why’d he put it out here? This group of kids aren’t allowed outside.”
“Yet.” Jase grinned.
“Well—” I tossed him the ball, half aware of the little faces watching us through the window behind me. “Hopefully, they’ll just be cleared for adoption soon and we won’t need an institute for them. Or maybe we’ll just find that cure instead.”
“Yeah, actually, I have a few theories on that,” he said, bouncing the ball as he spoke. “I wanna test out your blue light—see exactly what kind of electricity it is, because that whole heart-starting thing has my head going round in circles.”
“Why?”
“Well, it seems to be made up of static energy, but that shouldn’t cause such a dramatic effect when shoot—”
“Ara!”
Jase stopped talking and looked up the hill. “Great,” he muttered under his breath.
I spun around to watch David approach at a fast, human pace. “Hi, David.”
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s Tuesday,” I said flatly. “I always visit the children on Tuesday.”
“How convenient.” He stood beside me, eyeing his brother. “And you both just happened to cross paths.”
Jase sighed, tossing the ball away over his shoulder. “Whatever, man.”
“I believe the title you were looking for is Your Majesty,” David called after Jason, who just shook his head, walking slowly off over the hill.
“You didn’t have to do that.” I glared up at my king. “He was here before I got here. I ran into him.”
“Like I said.” He turned away. “Convenient.”
“You really do think the worst of people, don’t you?”
“No.” He headed toward the house. “I think the worst of him.”
“He’s your brother, David.”
He turned around and walked backward. “And I love him as such. Provided he stays away from my wife.”