Lies in Blood

by A. M. Hudson

  “So, only you and David know the truth about the Damned—that I can’t, and my child can’t, fix them?”

  “Yes. You've not been made a fool of, Ara. It took some work, but I convinced Emily and Mike, too.”

  “And what about Arthur? Did you convince him, too? Because he just went right on along with it—even told me he wanted to be free?”

  “He wasn’t lying, Amara. He wanted freedom. But not from immortality.”

  “Then, from what?”

  “From his bind to Drake—an eternal bind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean . . . he wanted you to use your venom to kill him once all this was over.”

  I covered my mouth. “Why?”

  “He wants peace: death. He wanted a family, a wife, a normal life, but he will never have that. Joining our fight was his way of setting things right—his penance to God for all the wrong he’s done, you might say. Once the humans and the Lilithians are safe, Amara, he. . .” She looked down at her feet, shaking her head.

  I slowly rolled my chin to my chest. “And when were you going to tell me this?”

  “I wasn’t. And neither was he.”

  “But he promised he’d stay. He—”

  “And he will keep that promise to you now, My Queen.” She rushed in and touched my shoulder. “He’s not going anywhere. You gave him new reason to live.”

  “Me? How?”

  “He loves you, Amara, like the daughter he never had. And he has everything he ever wanted: his nephews are safe and well, away from the plague of Drake’s darkness. He has the lab he always begged for.” She smiled fondly, hugging herself. “And he has a precious little girl to worry and fuss over.”

  I smirked. “Precious?”

  “You must know he holds you in high regard, Amara. You’re more precious to him than even his nephews, I believe.”

  “I doubt that, Morg. But . . . are you sure? I mean, are you sure he doesn’t still want to di—”

  “I’m sure.” She nodded once. “He swore to David in his own blood that he’d stay here and care for you after David’s gone.”

  “If he wants to protect me so bad, maybe he should kill Drake himself.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This whole thing’s a mess, isn’t it?”

  I covered my head with my hands for a second. “Yes.”

  “Is there anything I can do to set things right?”

  “It would help if everyone in my Council sat down in a room and unveiled all the truths they’ve been hiding, you know, a massive heart-to-heart type of thing.”

  “If it would serve the queen well, perhaps you should arrange this.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, right. I’m sure everyone will participate equally.”

  Morgaine moved one shoulder up slowly. “You never know who might surprise you as the one who reveals the most secrets, Amara.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She eyed me critically. “Nothing. Anyway, there was something else you wanted to ask me, wasn’t there?”

  “Yes. How did you—?”

  “My ability to understand another person goes a little deeper than pure empathy, My Queen. What did you want to know?”

  My arms fell heavily to my sides with the breath I exhaled. “What do you know about Lilith’s children?”

  “Um.” She frowned. “Not much. Why?”

  “Morgana.”

  “What about her?”

  “David found some more information on her—”

  “Where?”

  “In the Scroll Room.”

  “Where in there?” She took one step in that direction. “I’ve been right through there. I never found anything.”

  “Didn’t know you were looking.”

  “Of course I was. I’m trying to piece this together as much as you are. So—” She rolled her hand at the wrist, prompting me. “What did he find?”

  “She was a half-blood witch. We think Drake may have her—if she lived.”

  “Why would Drake have her?”

  I shrugged. “Well, where is she? Where did she go? If she simply died, there’d be more information on her. Someone has gone to great lengths to ensure no one ever asked questions about her.”

  Morgaine nodded thoughtfully. “True. But, why would Drake have her? Maybe she’s alive, living out there somewhere.”

  “Because Drake killed anyone who had any allegiance to Lilith, but Morgana was probably very powerful, maybe served a purpose. Or maybe he’s just kept her to torture her all these years for being the blood of Lilith.”

  “Torturing her?” Morgaine nearly rocketed forward, then sobered herself, straightening her shirt. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why not? He did it to me, and he ordered his own son’s death.”

  “What son?”

  “The boy, the blond one I killed at the castle.”

  She frowned, her eyes drifting down the hall. “That wasn’t his son.”

  “Yes, it was. Arthur told me—”

  “Oh.” She nodded, smiling to herself. “Arthur told you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did he tell you that?”

  “I don’t know. We were just talking and—”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “What?”

  “He wanted you to feel better about that, right?”

  “No. He was telling me about Drake’s incestuous behaviour and the monsters he created from it, and—”

  “Okay. First of all—” She laughed, holding her index finger up. “Drake was not incestuous.”

  “He wasn’t?”

  “No. He had a child with a woman who was his great granddaughter by blood, but he didn’t know that at the time.”

  “And … that was that the boy I killed?”

  “No. You killed Simon.”

  “Who was he?”

  “He was vile, but he wasn't Drake’s creation. Okay, maybe he was, but not his son.”

  “How was he Drake’s creation?”

  “Drake adopted Simon when he was a small boy. He’d been living in the slums of streets infested with disease and plague for months on his own, feeding off rats and all sorts. When Drake found him, he’d been exposed to some horrific situations, including brutal rape by passing travellers.”

  I covered my mouth.

  “The child was a mess,” she continued. “Drake taught him to be a vampire from a young age—taught him to kill, to transfer his rage onto those who would become his next meal. But, on Simon’s twentieth birthday, when Drake turned him, the heightened vampiric emotions took anything sweet and human we once saw in him and burned it.”

  “So, he created a monster?”

  “Yes, and Drake had grown to love Simon too much to lock him away, but the boy just couldn’t be controlled. That is the only reason he was killed. Drake is not that cruel, and he would not have kidnapped Morgana, if she even existed.”

  “What makes you so sure? And why the sudden change in opinion about Drake?”

  She exhaled through her nose, her jaw stiff, hands tight by her sides. “Well, it’s actually not sudden.”

  “Uh, yes, it is.”

  “No. I’ve just. . .” She loosened her fists. “I just keep my opinions to myself if they oppose that of the greater mass.”

  My mouth fell open in disgust.

  “Don’t judge me.” She pointed in my face. “It’s how I’ve survive in a world of vampires that hate my kind.”

  I pushed her hand down. “Fine. But I didn’t realise you were Pro-Drake.”

  “Hey! I so am not.” Her tone softened then. “But he’s not as bad as everyone says, either.”

  I folded my arms and leaned on the wall. “That’s what I’m always saying.”

  “I know.” She smiled and patted my arm. “But you just haven’t learned yet that sometimes your opinion is the least important part of ruling a nation.”

  “Then what’s the most important, smarty pants?”<
br />
  “Playing the game,” she said, and folded her arms slowly, adopting my coy grin. “Agree to be agreeable until the masses agree with the opinion you’re keeping to yourself. If you’re right, that eventually becomes evident. You don’t need to kick and scream to make people see your side, Amara. Only time can really do that.”

  “So, you think Drake is agreeable?”

  She leaned on the wall beside me, propping her foot up under her thigh. “Yes.”

  “Then, I have to kick and scream, Morg, to make my voice heard here. If we can reason with Drake, then David doesn’t need to go to his death.”

  “So go tell him that.”

  “Who?”

  “Drake.” She whipped her phone out of her pocket and held it out to me. “Call him up. Ask him if he wants to negotiate.”

  I laughed, pushing the phone away. “Very funny.”

  She placed it back in her pocket. “David's going to Elysium to free the prisoners tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’ll be freeing Pepper?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he’ll be back next week?”

  “Yeah.”

  “This time,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This time, he’ll be back, but one day he’ll go on the next mission, and he won’t return, Amara.” She took a step toward Mike as he appeared down the other end of the hall. “I wasn’t joking about calling Drake. I think you should consider it.”

  “Maybe I’ll think about it,” I said.

  “Good. Then I’ll text you his number.” She turned and walked backward for a second, her arms folded. “Because I don’t want David to die either.”

  I watched her walk away, wondering which part of her recommended the call to Drake: the betraying traitor we suspected she was a few weeks ago, or a true friend who wanted to help me stay on the throne. Either way, we shared one common belief: killing Drake was not the best option, even if he wanted to insert an evil witch’s black soul into my not-yet-conceived child.

  ***

  Midday sun streamed down through the glass dome above me, casting coloured light across my forearm and David’s chest. I frayed the tips of my fingers through the reds and blues, turning my hand to angle the colours into my palm. The world could just feel so simple at times, but not more than it did when I was in David’s arms this way. Somewhere outside, though, down the long, winding road leading to the manor, a car was edging closer, all fuelled up and ready to take my husband away for the week, turning this precious moment into one of our last.

  I traced a circle around the hollow between David’s collarbones, feeling for a pulse I knew I’d never find. I’d hoped that one day Jason and I would figure out the key to reversing vampirism and that maybe I’d know what it was like to hear David’s heart beat under my ear, but the truth of that wish occurred to me only then: even if those power were still possible, David would be long dead before I figured them out.

  My heart sunk, its roots reaching out for something to hold onto inside me. But without hope to find them, they were left floating around like unbound tendrils, lost.

  I did feel some relief, though, finally knowing the truth about all this prophecy stuff, and it was much easier being around David with no secrets between us. I could breathe for once, and just exist with him; no longer afraid he’d read my thoughts and find out I knew more than he wanted me to. However, I did still wonder how he learned about his bloodline being cleansed. If Arthur knew, was it something David had always known, too, and was it even true that he and Lilith were meant for each other, or was it just another unfounded theory?

  “How do you feel about the prophecy now?” he asked.

  “I . . . good, I guess.” I nodded. “I mean, it’s tricky, because I nearly slipped up and said something to Margret and Walt the other day.”

  “What?”

  “What’s what?”

  “What did you nearly say?”

  “Oh, I nearly said that it was a relief not be tangled up in some prophecy I didn’t want a part of.”

  David laughed.

  “I corrected myself, though,” I added. “And said I was relieved that we were finally seeing to the prisoners at Elysium.” I grinned. “But I accidentally called it La Chateau de la Mort.”

  He laughed again, propping his arm behind his head. “Was Arthur around?”

  “No. Thank God.”

  “Speaking of Arthur.” He lifted my top a little, rolling up to look down. “That rash you woke up with after you fell from the lighthouse is still there.”

  “I know.” I cupped his hand, stopping him from touching it.

  “Is it sore?”

  “No. Just itchy. Like I can feel something crawling out through my skin.”

  “Well, I want you to go see my uncle and get something for it. It looks as though it’s turning black.”

  I cringed. “Okay. I’ll go see him once you’re gone this afternoon.”

  “Okay.” He drew his arm from under his head and checked his watch, then tucked it back again. “Then call me right away and tell me what he says.”

  “Won’t you be out of service at Elysium?”

  “Only in the tunnels.”

  “You mean dungeons.”

  “Yes.” He nuzzled my head for a second. “Dungeons.”

  “Will . . . when you free. . .” I swallowed my heart back down from my throat. “When you free her, will she. . .?”

  “Ara, Pepper and I are done.”

  “But she doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know you dumped her and fell in love with—”

  “Ara, enough.” He slid out from under me and hooked his legs over the side of the bed. “This is hard enough as it is, without you adding your concerns.”

  “David, I’m sorry. I—”

  He stood up as. “Pepper is a part of my past. Were it not for the fact that she is one of the prisoners granted pardon, I’d not have any contact with her.”

  “Why?”

  “She broke the law.”

  “So she’s nothing to you now?”

  He turned away. “It’s just how I feel.”

  “Harsh.” I crawled across the bed and hopped out, coming to stand next to David. “Would you hate me if I did something illegal?”

  “Just . . . don’t.”

  I half laughed. “Why are you so serious when it comes to the law?”

  “It’s just the way I am, Ara.” He walked to the blanket box and zipped up the duffel bag there. “It’s the way I’ve always been. You know that.”

  “I know.” I stopped behind him, searching the set of his shoulders for an answer I wasn’t sure I wanted. “David?”

  “What?”

  “You—” Carefully and cautiously, I reached across and touched his back. “You are only going to Elysium, right?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Just . . . you’re not sneaking off to kill Drake, are you?”

  He turned with a smile and reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “I will return to you this time, mon amour. You have my word.”

  Chapter Six

  No one could imagine from looking up at the beige wall around the Garden of Lilith that a menagerie of life thrived behind it. Yellow beams of summer light reached down through the pink leaves of oddly shaped trees, turning the shrubs along the path purple, like a canvas of endless colours to distract my lonely thoughts. I balanced my toes over the cobblestones, avoiding the cool, slippery moss growing between each one, and made my way slowly to the water fountain at the centre of the garden. Tiny dots of water rose from the stone statue to catch a ride on the breeze, greeting my cheeks with cool kisses before sweeping out of the garden and far away.

  I wiped my face with the back of my wrist and took a seat on the grey ledge, laying my book down beside me. There was something magical and peaceful about this place but, for some reason, despite no one being allowed here without invitation from the queen, I never really fel
t alone—never really felt like this was my garden.

  Beside me, a small splash caught my attention. I dipped my fingers into the pond, sending a school of orange fish scattering under lily pads, making them ripple as if they were breathing. But I didn’t care if the fish ran away. I didn’t even what their company today. I just didn’t really want to see anyone. Didn’t want anyone else to ask me how I was feeling now that David was gone, then look away, disinterested, when I said I felt like crying. The only answer anyone wanted was, “I’m doing well.” I got so sick of saying it; so sick of everyone ignoring the lie they heard in my tone, that ‘alone’ had become the only place I could stand to be. I’d come out here to the Garden in search of the gentle breeze that moved the leaves in a summer song, harmonised with the deep hum of frogs croaking. But as my thoughts stopped for a second so I could listen to that peaceful sound, my ears pricked. I heard nothing. No insects scuffling about. No frogs calling for a mate. No birds chattering and bickering over worms. And my skin crawled with the very distinct feeling that I was being watched.

  I stood slowly and turned around, searching every shadow or flicker of movement. “Eve? Is that you?”

  “Ara?” A tall silhouette appeared in the glare of sunlight. I shielded my face, turning to run when it grabbed my arm. “Ara. Ara,” he said more gently, pulling me in, wrapping his arms all the way around my head and shoulders.

  I pushed out from the firmness of his chest, catching the scent of orange chocolate. And all the fight in me stopped, my lips falling softly part, hands to my sides as I took two slow steps backward. “I’m dreaming,” I stated.

  He smiled down at me, his green eyes warmer than they’d been since I couldn’t remember when. “No, my love. You’re not.”

  And that was it. My lip quivered, my chest went tight, and a full-scale melt down started off for the finish line. “What are you doing back?” I wailed. “You’ve only been gone for one night.”

  He cupped a hand to the back of my neck and drew me to him again. “I got all the way out to Elysium, unpacked my bags in my old room and, when Quaid brought me the prisoner manifest, I suddenly realised I didn’t care.”