The Knight Of The Rose

by A. M. Hudson

  thing that makes you so damn sweet and cute. You’re seventeen. I didn’t expect black lace.”

  “But, I look like a flamboyant zebra.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  I smiled, feeling, with the way his eyes traced my shoulders and ribs, truly beautiful for the

  first time in my life.

  Confidence returned, and without hesitation, I unbuttoned my jeans with one tug and watched

  his eyes as, inch by inch, he saw my pink underwear, the top of my thigh and then my knees.

  My heart skipped a beat. I never imagined a guy would look at me that way—a look I thought

  was reserved for those girls who can look twenty in a bikini.

  With less finesse than a drunkard, I kicked my ankles out of my jeans and stood expectantly

  in front of him; ready to finally go that little bit further than we’d ever been before.

  David, with a kind of cert ainty that would put male models to shame, unzipped his jeans and

  slipped them to his ankles, then stepped out of them, rolling up to stand.

  As if my gaze were a waterfall, it fell over his broad shoulders, the tight skin across his chest,

  hugging his pecs like cling-wr ap, down the ripples of hi s abs an d over the thick band of his

  underwear. A girly giggle twitched at my lips. “I always wondered if you were a boxers or briefs

  guy.” David looked down, then shrugged. “These are kind of in between.”

  “David?” I sai d as he clos ed the gap between us and s tood a breath away fr om my skin.

  “We’re almost naked. Together…alone.”

  “I know,” he br eathed the words out. “It’s taking everything in me not to want you ri ght

  now.” I shook my head. “You can want me.”

  His eyes flicked over my f ace, his lips parted to allow for his exultant breath, and his hand,

  shaking, etched closer to my hip, but didn’t touch. Goose bumps r ose over my ski n in

  anticipation. “Are you ready for this, mon amour?”

  “For blood drinking?”

  David nodded; his hand came clos e enough for the heat of his soul to mingle with mine. I

  closed my eyes involuntarily and smiled. “I’m so ready.”

  “Okay, then.” With his lips but a breath away from the side of my face, he whispered lowly in

  my ear, “Lay down.”

  Keeping my eyes closed to the white glow of the sun reflecting off the grey clouds, I bent my

  knees and placed my hands on the sticky grass as I lowered myself onto my back. Nothing but an

  empty breeze caressed my half naked body whi le I waited for the feel of his cool fingertips, but

  nothing happened.

  “David?” I said, wondering where he went.

  “You sure you wanna do this?” he asked quietly from somewhere beside me.

  I nodded and bit my lower lip.

  Without a second more thought, both his hands cupped my face, then slid down my jaw and

  over the curve of my neck, slipping the strap of my bra off my shoulder. “Just breathe, A ra,” he

  whispered in my ear.

  The air coming into my lungs felt shaky and unsteady. “Are you…are you going to take my

  bra off?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  My eyes opened to his breath on my f ace, his lips right in front of me, his body immensely

  close but not touching; wanting bu t not taking. His chest , his arms, his stomach, onl y inches away

  from my hot, craving skin.

  Every nerve in my brain called out to him; every part of my body, tingling hot—begging him

  to press himself against me. But he didn’t move. He just smiled to himself, leaning on his elbow

  beside me.

  “I can feel the warmth coming off you—” David said, and his eyes narrowed as he studied

  my bare waist. “It feels like standing outside on a summer’s day.”

  “David, please?” I arched my spine a littl

  e, pressing my ri b toward his hovering palm.

  “You’re driving me crazy. Just touch me.”

  A powerful shock, like electricity or energy or something that made my skin quiver all over,

  shot through my spine when he finally placed his cool fingertips to my skin; one hand ar ound the

  small curve of my lower ba ck and the other over the side of my neck—his thumb under my jaw,

  holding my face close to his. “It’s time,” he whispered against my cheek, and I buried my spine into

  the moist, sticky grass, feeling safe and guarded under the brightly coloured canopy of seclusion.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  Slowly, I raised my arm and hel d my trembling wrist to David’s lips. I’m ready. More than

  ready.

  “You will feel this.” He rolled his head forward into his gaze, his eyes questioning.

  Argh! Just do it, already!

  “Okay. No turning back, now.” David, using his fingernail, traced a small line over the skin

  on my wrist, and after a second, the perfect white skin became red and wet as blood pooled out fr om

  the tiny slit.

  Though I felt his nail pierce through—there was no pain—just a slight stinging when his lips

  hovered, leaving only his breath brushing across my wrist.

  I squirmed a littl e, feeling the anticipation rise up, making me want to scream with

  frustration. Then, he inched closer, moving with the speed of a balloon on a soft breeze, but the look

  of intent in his eyes lasted only long enough to erase the huma n from the green befor e his lips

  enclosed the gash.

  The pattering of rain on the canopy of trees swallowed the sound of his moist lips drawing

  the warmth from inside me.

  Gripping my hair with my ot her hand, I rolled my face to the image above; the leaves of the

  trees swirled around and blended together—a hazy palette of euphoric colour becoming a flat

  canvas. As my breath filled my lungs with humid air, a soft, dizzying silence fell upon my ears.

  There was no life—only the drawing sensation of his tight lips around my broken skin. His

  teeth pushed down on the out er edges of the wound, openi ng it further while hi s tongue lapped t he

  blood from within, and my fingers tightened and curled.

  Then, as if I slipped into a parallel universe of alternate consciousness, the world echoed out

  in a soft, high-pitched r ing; like being lost in a perfectly tuned note of song I’d never heard. As if

  floating, an alluring, anaesthet ic sensation detached me from reality and immersed me in Davi d’s

  touch; the feel of his fingers on my hand the only thing linking me to this world.

  He’s drinking from me, feeding from me. I’m inside him, touching his heart, running through

  his veins, warming everything I will never physically be able to touch.

  With a deep breath guiding my soul back, the haunting echo of enchantment faded to the cool

  breeze. Slowly, he drew his lips away—leaving a moist, cool patch in their wake, and smiled down at

  me. A stain of crimson love bled from his lips in two rivulets, seeping out over his perfect smile.

  My chest and shoulders lifted with each deep breath.

  “Are you okay, my love?”

  I nodded. Let me have your blood?

  David studied me for a second, then touched his fingers to the cav ernous split of skin on my

  wrist; it pulsed hotter under his touch, the heat rushing down my le gs, encircling my hips. “Are you

  sure about this, Ara?”

  My arms f elt weak and heavy, but the stillness flooding my limbs shif ted away with the

  possible fulfilment of long refused desires.

  Wordless and sha
king slightly, I nodded.

  “Very well.” He turned his h ead to the ar m propping him up, and reached down with his

  fingernail; I watched the black pupils disappear behind his tightly closed eyes for a second before he

  lifted his wrist and revealed the blotted rush of colour to my lips.

  Without hesitation, I took his wrist in my hand and pressed it to my tongue, closing my eyes

  as the warmth of sweet orange-chocolate flooded my mouth like liquid poured in unexpectedly.

  “Describe it to me,” he whispered into my hair. “In your thoughts.”

  I swirled the warm liquid around with my tongue and let it slide down my throat, into my

  stomach—like the first hot cocoa of winter, but smooth and rich, warm—like his voice. You taste

  like...like...

  Everything in my body drew as hard as it could against David’s skin, and his blood flowed

  past my lips until, at last, a powerfully tranquil feeling came over me, like falling backward through

  the air. My lips fell away from his wrist, followed by my hands—my head rolled into the crook of his

  elbow against the ground, and the world spun around me.

  “Ara?”

  Ignoring the spin, I looked up as, like the sun rising over the ocean, David’s eyes filled with

  that amazing shade of green, but brighter—Dorothy’s Emerald Cit y illustrated in the gaze of a

  vampire. They sparkled so vibrantly—almost transparently green. I was sur e the incandescent gl ow

  behind them was his soul.

  God, you’re so beautiful.

  The vertigo consumed me then, and forced my eyes to close.

  “Ara? Are you all right?”

  “Kiss me?” I breathed.

  Without opening my eyes, my lips moulded around David’s when they touched. A blend of

  sweet, warm butter and salty, metal-tasti ng liquid mixed under our kiss. David’s tongue smoothed

  over mine, forcing it away from the sharp edges of his fangs.

  We held the kiss for a long, deep br eath, then, a cool rush of air flooded my lungs when

  David pulled gently away and moved his lips over the side of my face and down my neck. “I want to

  know every inch of your body by only the memory of my lips,” he whispered.

  The sound of distant thunder rattled the sky above me, and fat droplets of summer rain started

  to fall around us again, collecting on the leaves and seeping through the hollows in the canopy. It fell

  over my skin; warm, like a glass of water that had been left in the sun all day, then mixed with t he

  heat of David’s kiss as he drank the rain from the curve of my waist.

  I rolled my spine, letting him cup his hands under my hips while his lips searched the rim of

  my underwear, just below my belly button. “David?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “I want to feel you against me .” Hooking my fingers just under his elbows, I tugge d him

  toward me; his bare chest and arms slipped across my body. I l et out a little gasp as he rested his

  weight on top of me for the first time.

  With his lips caressing the skin beneath my ear, and his hands s moothing the balmy rain

  down my thigh, his hips collided gently with mine as if the unwelcome intrusion of our remaining

  clothes were no longer there.

  The pattering rain on the trees above us became heavier then, and beads of water blinded me,

  while his fingers fell into the crease of my leg under my knee, pulling it up over his hips.

  “It’s raining.” David broke our kiss and looked up.

  “I know—we’re saturated. I feel like we tel eported into a warm shower by mis take.” I

  grinned and wrapped my legs tighter around him—nudging my hip- joins against him. “My undies

  are wet.”

  David laughed. “Don’t make me think about that.”

  But I want you to think about that. I smiled up at him; his hair, like a painted cloth over his

  brow, looked darker when wet—almost black. Beads of rain dripped off the ends, over his nose and

  lashes. The rain was cool, but I felt warm—tucked against him like I was under the roof of a small

  cubby house.

  With an aching gaze of desire chasing away the iciness of restraint, he spread his fingers out

  over my spine and pulled my pelvis into his.

  I gasped; I’ve never felt something press against me there before; I want to di scard the

  meagre remains of the separation between our near-naked bodies and let David inside of me…

  He stopped suddenly and looked down into my eyes; “It’s time to go—”

  “What?” I blurted, dropping my arms to my sides.

  David nodded to the now dark sky. Though it was hard to make out the time of day through

  the obscurity of the canopy, I could tell from the shadows that it was late, and the rain was going to

  get heavier at any minute.

  “Please? Not yet. I—I want you to make love to me, David. ” I reached up and stroked t he

  gristly stubble along his jaw.

  A roll of thunder stole the words from David’s lips; he placed his hand over mine, still on his

  face, and his eyes softened at the corners. He shook his head. “No, Ara, my sweet, beautiful girl. I

  can’t do that to you. It would be wrong of me.”

  “Wrong of you? Why, I don’t understand?” With the cold conclusiveness of reason, the small

  split in my wrist started to sting.

  “I can’t marry you, Ar a. I can’t take your innocence and then leave you—it would be very

  dishonourable of me.”

  “But I want you to take it, David. I want to give it to you.”

  He breathed out through his nose, closi ng his lips into a thin smile. “No, my love. One day

  you will fall in love with someone, and you’ll want to be pure—untainted—for him. If I take you

  now, you can never go back. I would hate for you to regret any of our interactions one day.”

  “David. This is the new world. It doesn’t work like that now.”

  “That may be so, but it st ill works that way for me.” His wide, sincere eyes looked right into

  mine, his voice intense wi th conviction. “In my soci ety, virginity is something very sacred. It is a

  rare virtue to be praised and cherished, not something girls should give away without refl ection or

  care.”

  “But—”

  “Ara, please? It’s what I want for you.” His hars h tone forced me into silence. “Sometimes

  you can think too much with your heart and not enough with your head. I have to be the adult here. I

  have to protect you from yourself—from your human nature.”

  “But, David—I can take care of myself. I’m a big—”

  “It’s my job to protect you,” he scolded, then smiled at my shocked expressi on. “Even if it

  means I’m falling apart.”

  I don’t agree, I huffed internally.

  “And—” he added, sitting up and dropping his elbows over his knees.

  I sat up beside him and touched the tips of my fingers along the tight skin on his shoulder.

  “And what?”

  “And…I need to tell you something …” As our eyes met, a flash of sadness turned his pale

  green, “—something which, I’m afraid to say, is not good news.”

  “Okay.” My voice trembled a little.

  “I told you I would warn you when it was time for me to leave?”

  “Yes.” My stomach sunk; I bit my bottom lip.

  “Well…the… I—” his voice st eadied with a chest-li fting breath; he looked to the side, his

  gaze fixing on my lips, then rising up to my eyes. “The time has come.”r />
  My mouth fell open. No!

  “I’ve been called to return to duty.”

  “What? When?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks? But—that’s not enough time. Ho

  w can I —how can you expect me to.” I

  stopped and shook my head. “No. No, you can’t do this. You—”

  “That’s not the worst part, Ara.” He took another deep br eath, shuffling his posit ion

  nervously. “In that two weeks, I am expected to operate the Set from the New York offices. I will

  only be able to see you at night.”

  “Night? Two weeks? And that’s it? For forever?”

  “Unless you change your mind and become a vampire,” he said in a low, dry tone.

  “David. I can’t make a decision like that in two weeks. How can you possibly expect me to—

  ”

  “Because you have to, Ara!” He looked at me long enough to see the hurt infect my face.

  “The time is now. Like it or not. You have to choose. When the full moon rises in a fortnight, I will

  be boarding a train and leaving for Le Château de la Mort—with or without you beside me.”

  “You can’t do this to me. Mike’ s here f or the next two weeks. How am I going to choose

  between life and immortality while he’s dist racting me?” I sl ipped my bra straps back onto my

  shoulders and pushed my stringy wet hair from my eyes. “Can’t you reason with them? Can’t you do

  something?”

  “Ara. You don’t understand the ways of the Set. I’ve been ordered to return by the head of

  the World Council—the king, for God’s sake. One does not refuse an order from the king.”

  “But—”

  “Look.” He dropped his head with a dejected breath. “Two weeks to get my affairs in order

  was a generous courtesy. He needn’t have offered that at all—”

  “Why? Are you in trouble?”

  “In ways.” The grip where he held his wrists together over his knee s tightened. “The man I

  entrusted to run things in my absence has proven less than reliable. I must return and pull things into

  line.”

  “But you have a life here. What about school and—”

  “Ara, the Set do not care! It’s a part of being on the Council. I knew this when I j oined; I

  accepted that with all of its glory and all of its responsibility. I must leave. That is all there is to it.”

  “But, what will I do without you—how will I get through the days?”