by A. M. Hudson
Dark Secrets
Book II
The Knight of the Rose
First Edition for Epub
Copyright 2012 Angela M. Hudson
Smashwords Edition
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This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, events or incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to places or incidents is purely coincidental.
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For all the dreamers who don’t
believe it’s possible
Book Two
Time: we have no control over it.
We cannot see it or change it,
we can only exist as a part of
its greater plan.
Chapter One
Chapter One
The only thing greater than dreams is living the life you’ve made from them. We wake, we
breathe, we bleed every day, but it’ s only the ones who make each breath count and each drop of
blood colour the grey that wake with a reason to smile.
David is my blood, my breath—my dream. A dream that will never die, but will exist
eternally out of reach unless I choose to make blood my life—exchanging my breath for eternity,
and waking every morning from a nightmare of death and sin.
“Wake up. Wake up.” Vicki slapped my leg th rough the covers. “Time to shop. Let’s go,”
she beamed, then padded across my room and threw my curtains apart, i nviting the bright light to
pour into the darkness.
I squinted, using my arm as a v isor, then gave up and cl osed my ey es instead. “I don’t
wanna go to school today,” I said jokingly, knowing full-well exactly where I was being dragged to.
“Ara?” Vicki said in an insistent tone. “Just humour me… and your boyfriend, and let him
spend some money on you.”
I pulled the covers over my h ead, but the blinding whi te light stung my eyes again as the
cold of morning circulated my suddenly uncovered self.
Vicki dumped my quilt on my chai r across the room and s hook her head. “Be nice. Is it
really so bad that David wants to buy you a dress?”
“Yes.” And even worse, he clo sed my curtains after he snuck in here las t night. I hat e it
when he does that. “I have savings, Vicki. I can buy my own dress.”
Vicki, after a long sigh, rummaged in my dresser drawer, then pointed at the clothes she
placed over my quilt for me.
“This is not open for discussion, Ara. Now get dressed.”
So, apparently I can’t even choose my own clothes now, either. What ever happened to
freedom of choice?
With a groan, I flipped my legs over the side of the bed and stumbled to the window. The
dull grey clouds hid the sun, making everything under its suppressed glare seem vividl y white—
lighting up the entire yard, which was littered with garden debris. “Did it storm last night?” I folded
my arms and leaned my butt against my desk, resting my head on the windowpane.
“Yes. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it. Don’t you normally wake in a storm?” She folded her
arms, too, looking out at the clouds as they started to spill over and the soft pattering of rain filled
the desolate street below.
“Didn’t hear a t hing. Slept like a baby.” I shrugged. Hmm, that’s really odd. I should’ve
absolutely been on the phone to Mike last night, tucked under my covers, cowering at every gust of
wind. Maybe I’m just getting over my fear of storms. At least that explains why David shut my
window.
A pensive twist to my lips became the first smile of the day. He always takes such good care
of me; where would I be without him?
After getting dressed, I tidied my room a little and shook my quilt out over my bed. Emily
and Alana will probably get here before Vicki releases me from shopping; I figure my room should
at least be tidy if I’m having my first sleepover.
“Ara. I’m going to the car—hurry up,” Vicki called.
I quickly ran to the bathroom and patted some more ski n-tone make-up over the f ading
bruises on both sides of my neck. David r eally did do some pretty bad da mage with his overeager
bite when he led this innocent young human under the auditorium stage.
I jabbed the purple skin with my fingertip and scraped the small brown scab off the centre,
then watched it seep a runny, clear liquid. This was the worst side. The other one just looked like a
misshapen birthmark or a hickey. But, thanks to Vicki’s shopping obsession, I happened to have a
two-hundred dollar bottle of concea ler in my bathroom cabinet that could cover up a nose if you
wanted to.
I stood back and obs erved my handy-work; looks great, and the skin isn’t quite as tender
now. I’m actually sur prised at how quickly I’ve healed. It’s sort of nice, though, to carr y
around David’s mark; it makes me feel like he’s always with me, like I’m a part of him—in a really
creepy, sadistic way. I shouldn’t feel like that, but all the common sense I once had evaporates into
the background of my subconscious when it comes to David. All I care about is that he’s mine, and
I’m his. Nothing more.
Of course, it’s been really tricky keeping my neck hidden from Vicki and Dad. I suddenly
had a lot more homework to focus on t his week in order to hide in my room, and I’m so glad
summer scarves are in fashion right now.
If David had agreed to shar e the intimacy of drinking blood on Thursday night, when he
took me to the rooftop, I would undoubtedly have been hiding another nasty scar from Vicki today
while I tried on scanty dresses.
But, even though I still wish he wanted my blood, I ’m glad he didn’t let me cut myself . In
the clarity of daylight, it seems a littl e foolish. I guess he really does love me. Very few vampires
would refuse to drink the blood of a human who was practically shoving it in their face.
Vicki, obviously in the car, beeped the horn twice. I patted my pocket, slipped my shoes on
and stuffed the last of my savings into my purse as I ran out of my bedroom.
I can at least try to use my own money—I just have to do it without being caught.
But my triumphant escape, as I reached for the front door and drew a breath of success, was
ruined by a hand grabbing mine.
“You won’t be needing this.”
“Hey!” A loud s igh carried my frustration as David took m y purse. “It’s for lunc h, or if I
need anything else, you know, for the sleepover or, like, girlie stuff.”
“Nice try. If you need anything else, I’ll take you shopping later.” He tucked my purse into
his pocket and kissed my cheek, then, as the front door swung ope
n and Vicki called out again, he
disappeared.
A victory grin spread across my face as I slid into the car and patted my fingers over the real
two hundred dollars I’d stuffed in my pocket earlier. He didn’t se e that, and he didn’t check my
purse to see the grand amount of ten dollars I really put in there. And since I was careful not to think
of it when he caught me, he won’t know about it.
Human one—vampire zero. I held in a chuckle.
Vicki parked at the centre of the long, outdoor strip of shops. I jumped out of the car and
looked up at t he sky. Even tho ugh the sun wasn’t s hining, as it had been last time I was here,
somehow, everything felt so much brighter. The shopping strip was quiet for a Saturday, not that it
was usually very busy anyway. I t reminded me of my hometown; how there were people out and
about, but scattered and far between.
Hidden from the radar of Vicki’s vigilant eye, I checked my watch. Nine o’clock. Emily and
Alana are coming over at four. Hopef ully, I’ll have a new dress by then so that a; I can show the
girls, and b; I won’t have to come out here and do this again.
Don’t get me wrong, I love dresses and I love shopping, but being dragged, against my will,
to have money spent on me from an unapproved source is just plain—awkward.
Lucky I have a contingency plan.
By eleven o’clock, exhausted from moaning and whingeing my way around the entire shop,
I decided enough was enough, but Vicki dragged me to her favourite café and made me order lunch.
I just wanted to go home. After trying on thirty dresses, the only one I remotely liked was a
satin, emerald-green one—like David’s eyes. But it wasn’t really grand enough, so Vicki says.
I thought it was fine.
“So, I stil l have to find some pretty new underwear and a mask .” I laid my shopping li st
down on the table beside my plate.
“Well, you can’t get a mask until you have a dre ss,” Vicki said with a mouthful of salad,
“and the underwear you get will depend on the fabric of the dress, too.”
“Why?”
“Well, if you get a satin dress, you won’t want lace underwear.”
“Oh.” She’s right—I need to find a dress. This is just dragging on. “I think I’ll just get that
green dress—the satiny one,” I said, stuffing a chunk of steak, covered in too much salt, into my
gob. Vicki stopped chewing and stared at me. “Ara. David has given you a lot more than that to
spend. The green one is pretty, but you can do better.”
“I know. But I’m not gonna let him buy me a dress, Vicki.”
She looked up in shock.
“You didn’t really think I’d just go along with this, did you?” I tried to sound casual, tearing
my eyes away from her heartbroken glare.
She took a dee p breath. “Well, I guess it ’s up t o you. But, before we go home, can you
please just humour me and try a dress in that store?”
I looked behind me, to the wall of glittering glass and puffy fabric decorating the front of a
very expensive-looking store. W ith a loud sigh, I nodd ed. I can’t let Vicki down; she l oves this
girlie stuff more than anything, and it’ll make her so happy if I just suck it up and play Barbie for
another half hour or so.
We stepped carefully around the silks and tulles falling over the wooden floor as we entered
the realm of couture. A thin girl smiled at us from behind the counter, then went back to reading her
magazine.
“This is beautiful,” I said, spinning slowly to take it all in.
“I told you,” Vicki beamed.
“Okay.” I held my arms out to the sides. “Dress me up.”
My mind wandered in a secluded mist of pinks, reds and the clucking of fussing hens as they
spun me around and forced me into every dress in the store. I knew they were having fun, Vicki and
the shopkeeper, but I could think of at least three things I’d rather be doing. I already knew which
dress I was getting; I just wanted to go get it, and go home.
When they threw a shimmering, bright, s ky-blue dress at me, I woke suddenly fr om my
daze. It slid onto my body like silk to satin, the carefully tailored lines fitting the contours of my
hips like a glove.
I stepped onto the box in f ront of the four-walled mirror, and smiled as Vicki and the clerk
gasped. Spinning around slowly, running my fingers over my hips, I marvelled at the soft organza,
bunched together at the waist on one side and shrouded wi th little diamantes. The strapless corset
bustle hugged my body until the full, flowing drop of the skirt glided out from my hips and over the
ground—like a wedding dress, but blue—and without a hoop skirt underneath.
“You look like a princess.” Vicki almost started crying.
I pressed my fingers over the bust of the dre ss; the clerk pulled it so ti ght that my waist
became a half-size smaller, and I totally looked like I was wearing a push-up bra.
Vicki’s right. This dress is amazing.
“We’ll take it,” Vicki all but squealed.
Uh-oh. This is going to upset her. I shook my head. “No, it’s a thou sand dollars, Vicki. I
can’t. I’ll just get the green one in the other store.”
“But, why, Ara?”
“I told you. I’m not going to let my boyfriend buy a dress for me. It’s ridiculous!”
“He’s buying it for you?” the clerk asked, astonished.
“No! He’s not.”
“But, Ara. It’s so lovely, and—”
“It’s just a stupid dress. Who cares? I’ll wear it for a few hours, then take it off an d never
wear it again. It’s a waste of money. I’ll just get the green one.”
“But—”
“I can do what I want, Vicki. It’s not your life!” I jumped off the podium and stormed into
the change room—slamming the door.
The girl in the mirror l ooked up at me when I took one last look at my reflection. She was
thinking the same thing I was; the dress is b eautiful. I wish I could afford it, because it
definitely is the one. But I won’t take advantage of my boyf riend just because he happens t o have
made a few smart investments in his hundred-year existence.
But, David would love this dress, too, and I know, from the look on Vicki’s face, that I just
broke her heart. “Maybe—” I said, reaching out to the girl in the mirror; she smiled.
No. I drew my hand back quickly and looked away. “No! The answer is no. We’re not
getting the dress.”
“Did you say something, dear?” the clerk asked.
“Uh, no—just talking to myself,” I called back.
Myself looked at me solemnly, and I shook my head. “Stop pouting. We’re getting the green
dress.” Vicki walked quietly behind me as I headed to the other dress store, purchased the green one
with my own money and headed to ‘Summer Magic Masks and Hats Boutique.’
“This one would’ve been perfect with the blue dress,” Vicki offered, holding up an almost
transparent blue, organza-covered mask. The little stones around the eyes were patterned out like a
butterfly, and as s he angled it just so, it caught the light and shimmered like a diamond-powdered
oil painting.
“Yes.” I swallowed and switched on the uncaring me with a noncommittal shrug. “It’s great.
But I have the green dress.”
“Oh, well, the only mask here that goes
with green—is this gold one.” Vicki grinned widely.
“I know how much you love gold.”
“Gold?” I tried to hold back the sound of vomit in the back of my th roat. “I do love gold.
And you’re right, it’ll look great with the green.” Yuk!
Begrudgingly, I purchased the mask, and as we left the store—with my outfit f inally
complete—I felt a tight pull in my chest. Perhaps it was…regret?
After the first five minutes into t he drive back home—in complete silence—I watched
Vicki’s face, and the pig-headed me softened a little more. Sam’s her only child. He will forever be
her only child. Poor Vicki, I’ve just ruined her last chance to do the girlie going-to-a-ball thing. And
sure, I feel like a hack, but it’s too late now.
We pulled up to the garage door, and my heart sunk into the pit of my stomach. “What ’s
David doing here?” I sat forward slightly and looked at his car. “He was supposed to be here at
two.” Vicki grinned and shut the engine off. “We thought it might be better if they started earlier.”
“But—” but thi s dress was supposed to be hidden before David arrived today. Oh, God.
Grilling imminent.
“What’s the matter, Ara? I thou ght you’d be happy to see David.” Vicki’s tone had all the
malice of a person who knew that I knew that she knew I was totally getting busted—and she was
relishing in the idea.
“Of course I’m happy to see him, Vicki.” I closed the car door with my hip and folded my
dress over my arm. “I can’t wait to show him my dress.”
“Me too.” She w alked ahead and ope ned the fro nt door for me, all the while wearing the
smile of an evil stepmother.
The skin on my neck tightened.
“Greg? We’re home.”
“We’re upstairs—” Dad called. “How was shopping?”
“Great,” I said and started up the stairs.
“So you got a dress?” David, waiting at the top, with his fingers wedged into his pockets,
looked down at me with anticipation. It was easy to make out the muscles in his chest when he
stood that way. He looked so strong and vampire-like. My breath quivered. I do quite like vampires,
now.
“I did, and I think you’ll love it.”
David kissed my cheek as I passe d him, then, he studied Vicki’s face as she followed. My