The Knight Of The Rose

by A. M. Hudson

“I’m sorry, Ara. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

  I nodded and exhaled. “So, you said I’d already be changed. How long does it take?”

  “A day or so. For some, it can take only hours.”

  “Gee, waste no time, huh?”

  “It’s based on the strength of your immune sy stem; you see, the venom kills it slowly, and

  when it finally gives out, you change permanently into a vampire—assuming you have the gene.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “Well, it won’t matter, because you refuse to become what I am. So—”

  “David! Tell me. What if he’d bitten me, and I didn’t have the gene?”

  “Then—” he went quiet again until he looked at me, “you die.”

  “Whoa! Hold on. So, you bite someone to feed off them? If they have the gene, they become

  a vampire, and if not—”

  “Something like that.” He nodde d, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve never turned

  someone. Of all the people I left alive in my years, not one has survived. My uncle is the only person

  I know who changed someone.” He picked at the crumbling leather where his fingers had gripped the

  steering wheel when he s lammed his brakes on. “It’s not an easy task; the exact method’s a closely-

  guarded secret—to prevent unauthorised transformations. All I do know, is if Jason and I hadn’t been

  compatible for the change, we would have grown ill.”

  Grown ill? “So, it’s kinder to kill them?”

  “Yes.” He lo oked back at me. “Our venom numbs the s kin and induces euphoria; fear is

  clouded by ecstasy—they desire the bite; we dr ain them and—they die,” his voic e softened. “It’s

  peaceful, serene. But if we leave them alive, the venom becomes para sitical; they get a fever, their

  immune system deteriorates, as do the cognitive functions, then, they fall into a coma. It’s a

  degrading and…painful death.” He looked ahead, slipping into silent reverie.

  “Can someone survive—if they don’t have the gene?”

  His eyes scrunched tightly for a second. “I’ve heard of a few cases; they recover from near

  death—go on with normal life, like it never happened. But it’s rare, and they’re never quite the same

  again.”

  “So, I could choose to give up my life—to be with you—and it might not work?”

  He laughed once. “It’s a possibility. But, do you remember that feeling you had at the lake?

  The uh— gravitational pull?” He smiled and rubbed his chin.

  “Yes?”

  “That’s how I know you’re my soul mate.”

  I nodded and smiled. “And that means I can be changed?”

  “Kind of. You see, soul mates are designed for each other, Ara. If you couldn’t be changed,

  the phenomenon wouldn’t have occurred.”

  “Did you feel that with the person who changed you—with your uncle?”

  He laughed. “No. You only feel it with your soul mate, and it’s especially rare to feel it with a

  human. My uncle took a risk changing Jason and I, on the hope we would be more like him,

  genetically. There was nothing to l ose anyway. We’d just signed up to j oin the army, and Arthur

  wanted us protected.”

  “Really? That’s how you became a vampire?”

  “Yeah. Well, Arthur had lost everyone he loved by that point. He just couldn’t bear to lose us

  as well—plus he swore an oath to protect our blood-line.”

  “So, he risked killing you—to save you?”

  “Love works in mysterious ways, Ara. Besides, it’s not all bad—being a vampire. You should

  try it.”

  “Don’t joke like that, David. It hur ts that I have to live without you or give up everything I

  want from life. It’s a sucky exchange.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m let ting you go—gracefully. I want to throw a tantrum. Believe me,

  I’m in pain, Ara. Every moment with you just makes me real ise how much it’s goi ng to hurt when

  you’re gone—” his brow tightened, “—or hurt when you get married, have a family, have the life I

  could never have with you. And one day you will di e, and there will be nothing I can do to save

  you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose.

  My cool fingers twisted into David’s warm gr ip. “It’s kind of ironic, really.” I smiled,

  looking down at our hands. “I’d make a better vampire than you. See? Caramel and vanilla.”

  David’s lips parted and his mouth curved up in the corners. “I’m really going to miss your

  touch.” I sat back in the chair and let my hand fall into my lap. “I wish we could be like t wo

  characters in a book; that some miracle could keep us together. But this is life, David—and reality is

  harsh. Our reality is that fiction doesn’t mix with fact. I wish it did.”

  “No matter. I will never give up hope.” He stol e my hand back. “While you still have life in

  you—I still have a hope of changing your mind.”

  My eyes watered and I looked away. The weight of our sadness felt heavy; if we were made

  of porcelain and dropped from the sky, we could not be more broken inside. I could see him trying to

  hide his pain from me—but you can’t conceal the truth from th e ones who love you—and I love

  David, with all of my heart. “So?” I cleared my throat. “Should I be worried? About Jason?”

  David shook his head and put the car into gear; “I hope not.”

  We pulled away fr om the middle of the r oad and headed for the lake again. I wondered,

  though, if a s mall part of him hoped it would ju st happen; that I becam e a vampi re—outside his

  knowledge. But the part in me that knew Davi d, also knew he would never want me to give up my

  human life. He wanted it for me as much as I did.

  “Hey, I was thi nking?” He grinned as he pulled over on the gravel and shut the engine off .

  “Would you like to go back to the island today?”

  “The island? Yeah.” Before I finished my sentence, David appeared at my side and opened

  my door. He wrapped his ar ms around my waist an d lifted me f rom the car—leaving my jacket

  behind. “David, what are you doing?” I squealed with giggle.

  “I’m getting us there faster.”

  The air rushed past me, and everything went blurry; like looking out the window on a train. I

  slowly inhaled the cool, moist air—softly scented with the sweet perfume of wild flowers.

  As we burst through the trees and into the clearing by the lake, a familiar feeling warmed my

  heart—like coming home. David placed me so slow ly and gently on the gr ound beside the rock

  where we usually sat, and I cast a quick glance at the watery road to the island.

  I wish I’d worn a skirt today—my jeans are so going to get wet.

  “It’s magnificent this time of year, isn’t it?” David said.

  “It’s always magnificent.” Over the unmoving

  reflection of th e lake, I mar velled at the

  clouded blue sky, touched with a hint of grey. “So, are we going over there or what?”

  David looked at the island. “Yes. I just—” He let his words out with a breath, then stole my

  hand and, using his fingertip, traced one slow line down the middle of my palm. “The lines have

  changed.”

  “Of course they have. They don’t stay the same forever.”

  “Mine do.”

  “Everything about you does.” I chuckled lightly.

  “Not everything.” He looked right into my eyes. “Physically, ye s, but every day I exist, I

  grow o
lder inside, more mature. And since meeting you, I think I’ve aged about two hundred years.”

  He laughed and folded his fingers around mine, but the smile faded from his eyes, and a flicker of

  something foreign flashed for only a second before it disappeared.

  “David.” I squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Is something wrong?”

  Studying our interlaced fingers carefully, he traced another line over the back of my hand.

  “I—No. It’s nothing. Let’s just enjoy this day.”

  “Okay, but, you’d tell me, right? If there was something wrong?”

  “Probably not.”

  I stood between him and his distracted glare. “David? Please, what is it?”

  “Nothing that needs discussing right now.” He pressed his lips into a thin smile and looked at

  the island; most of the trees were still green, but every third one, at least, was covered in a flurry of

  yellows and pinks.

  While I swallowed the urge to beg him to tell me, raindrops started lightly around us, and the

  scattered blue of the sky enclosed with a dark, low-hanging grey.

  “So? Are we going to the island or are we gonna stand here and get incredibly wet?”

  “Yeah, hold on though—this is my favourite shirt.” He crossed his arms and grabbed the base

  of his shirt, then rolled his shoulders, lift ing the skin-covering fabric away. A cheeky grin glistened

  in the corners of his eyes as his arms fell back down to his sides—his shirt in his hand.

  I shook my head, imagining my f ingers moulding to the shape of his tanned chest or rippling

  over his firm stomach. I just wanted to lay my body against his and trace circles over his rib cage.

  “Okay, let’s go,” he said.

  “What are you doing?” My limbs flailed outward as he swept me off the ground.

  “Keeping you dry.”

  “Dry? But, David, it’s raining.” I laughed, watching drops of water discolour my jeans.

  “I know.” With the cheeky grin glued to his lips, David moved wi th the speed of light again,

  and I snuggled my brow into hi s jaw—wrapping my arms around his neck—feeling only the soft,

  cool breeze as we skimmed over the water. “Open your eyes,” he whispered in my ear and set me

  down on my feet.

  “Aw, wow!” My eyes drifted along the willowy grass at the base of tall, colourful trees, and I

  rolled my palm under the lacy leaf of a fern to catch the fat dropl ets of gathering rain. “You know,

  I’ll really miss this place when you’re not with me anymore.”

  “I know.” David plucked a purple wildflower from a tree-hugging vine and gently tucked my

  tangled, disoriented curls behind my ear with the blossom holding them in place.

  “Thank you.” I touched the sati ny garnish. “You know, I still have the last flower you gave

  me here.”

  “I know.” He nodded.

  Just as I looked up t o smile at David, the sunlight filtered through a break in the canopy and

  made the raindrops on his hair and the curves of his bare shoulders glisten. Little bumps rose on my

  arms, and a soft shiver forced my neck to tense and tighten, though I doubted my sudden shaking had

  anything to do with the ending summer.

  “You’re cold.”

  “I—” My breath st ammered into my lungs as David stepped into me, my for earms meeting

  his bare chest; skin on skin.

  The desire to feel his naked body against mine had fuelled my dr eams for too long now. I

  wanted his lips to kiss my neck, his hands to grip my thighs, and hi s teeth...I wanted them to bite

  me—draw blood from under my skin—make me a part of him—hold me inside forever. “I wish I’d

  worn more than a singlet top out here today—” I hugged my hands around my arms as David stepped

  away from the embrace. “I can feel the autumn coming on.”

  He looked up at the grey sky. “And so follows the winter.”

  My lips twitched with the need to say something, but I forced it down and reached into my

  pocket. “David?”

  He looked sideways at me.

  “I—I have something for you. It’s a little corny, but—” I shrugged, “—I figure the old guy in

  you might like it.”

  David’s lips quirked on one side, his eyes lighting with curiosity. “You’re getting good at

  keeping your mind clear when you want to hide something from me.”

  “I know.” I grinned and pulled a small white square of cloth from my pocket. “You know in

  movies, how the fair maiden would sometimes give her knight a handkerchief?”

  “Well—” David ran his hand through his hair , “—it wasn’t a custom that started in movies,

  but, yes?”

  “Um…” God, I feel so stupid doing this.

  “You can’t take me wit h you when the winter

  comes—” I placed the cloth in David’s palm, and he closed his fingers around it, “—but you can take

  a part of me. It has my scen t on it.” I reached back into my pocket. “But…it isn’t just my scent I

  want you to have…”

  “Okay?” David’s brow arched with confusion; my shoulders lifted as I clamped my index

  finger onto the pin in my pocket, then drew my hand back and watched a crimson droplet pool on the

  tip. “Ara!”

  “This is my perfume,” I said quickl y, before he could get mad, then dropped a dollop of

  blood onto the hanky; Da vid’s fingers tightened around mine for a moment. “It’s the best way I

  could think of to give you a part of myself.”

  “You silly, sweet girl.” He shook his head, smiling.

  Ouch. “I must’ve pricked it pretty deep.” I pulled my finger back and squeezed the base. “It’s

  still bleeding.”

  “Don’t squeeze it—you’ll make it worse.” He placed the handkerchief in his pocket and took

  my hand, then, with a soft smile, slid my fingertip onto his tongue and closed his lips tightly around

  it.

  The smoothness of his tongue felt cool, yet warm—like a tepid bath—soothing against t he

  pulsing wound. I wat ched his face; he closed his eyes, his shoulders lift ing with each breath. A

  strange pulling and a mild stinging sensation forced me to inhale as his tongue ran over my fingertip,

  pressing my nail firmly to the roof of his mouth.

  More than ever befor e, my pounding hear t pleaded, begging him to take me—to bite me,

  drink from me...make love to me.

  He opened his eyes as he s lid my finger past his lips again and kissed it. “Ara....you taste

  amazing—like a creamy dessert wine. Sweet and yet so powerfully intoxicating,” he whispered as

  his eyes changed colour , just like they did in th e storage closet at school; how the green became

  darker, encircling the pupil that almost entirely consumed the whites of his eyes. “I can’t keep doing

  this.” I stared up at him, blinking each time his warm breath touched my lashes. “Doing what?”

  “Telling myself not to touch you, not to...to do inappropriate things with you.”

  “Let’s do it then.”

  “It?”

  “Yes. Blood. I…I want you to drink my blood.”

  With an accusatory glare, his jaw stif fened, but the look washed away quickly as he ran his

  tongue over his lips one last time and the history of my blood clearly fell against it.

  The vampire surfaced within his eyes, and his hand cupped the side of my neck, his body

  inches from mine, his breath suddenly weighted and fast. “Not with your clothes on.”

  I looked down at my jeans, then
back up at the vampire. “Huh?”

  “Vampires like skin—we need skin. If we do this with clothes on—” he looked away for a

  second, “—when I get carried away, I might rip them off you. I don’t wish to explain to your father

  why I’m bringing you home naked.”

  “Oh.” I laughed, but a sudden sinking feeling, like a hot blast of toxic, adrenaline-inducing

  drugs, shot through my arms.

  “It’s okay.” He p laced his hand on my chest—over the place where my heart tapped my

  ribs—trying to break free. “I won’t do anything to hurt you. You have my word.”

  “I know.” I nodded. “It’ s just—” swallowing, I unravelled my fingers from their ball-grip.

  “It’s just that no one’s ever seen me… naked before.”

  “Are you uncomfortable?”

  I nodded.

  “Why?”

  “I’m…I’m afraid…that you might be...disappointed.”

  I tensed, waiting for him to laugh, but he only glided the backs of his fingertips along my

  cheekbone and stared deeply into my eyes, reaching down to take my wrist with his other hand.

  “What if I were to undress, and suddenly you decided I was not as...hot as you thought?”

  “What?” I smiled. “Impossible. You’re totally hot…and besides, as if I’d care. I love you.”

  He smiled down at me. “Precisely.”

  My breath shuddered. David released my wrist and fingered the base of my single t top,

  revealing first, the strip of white skin above my jeans, then watching intently as he drew it up over

  my belly button and my ribs. I stiffened all over. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “I know.” I nodded, swallowing nerves. I want you to do it, David—I just wish I’d worn

  pretty underwear.

  Prompting him out of his hesitant pause, I lifted my arms above my head. A breath of a smile

  swept across my lips as David dropped my top to the wet grass and stepped back, shaking his head.

  “Ara, my love.” His eyes warmed his entire face. “You are incredibly perfect.”

  Heat rushed into my cheeks and I covered my purple and pink candy-striped bra. “Even in a

  bra that looks like I shop at the same boutique as Bozo the Clown?”

  A burst of laughter shot through David’s lips. He reached out and took each of my hands, just

  above the wrist, and pulled them away from my ribs. “This—” he nodded to my bra, “is just another