by A. M. Hudson
“Something tells me you’ll be fine.” He smiled conceitedly.
“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”
David stared at the ground. “I have a confession to make.”
“Okay…”
He turned his head to the side—away from me. “I was listening last night. When you spoke
to Emily and Alana—about Mike.”
Oh no. I covered my brow.
“That’s what happened? Wasn’t it?” He looked back at me and nodded once . “The reason
you were crying the night you asked your mum to pick you up? The night she—”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“I’m so sorry, Ara.” David’s arms flew around me, pinning my cheek to his stomach. “He
was a fool to turn you down.” He pulled back from me a little and held my face in his hands; “I guess
that explains your over-analysing when I wouldn’t kiss you. I’m sorry. If I had known—”
“It’s not your fault, David. You did the right thing. Better to feel undesirable for a few days
than to be dead, right?” I laughed a short release of tension.
“Do you love him?”
“Who, Mike?”
“Yes, Mike.”
“I—” My eyes drifted past David’s hips, to nothing in particular.
“S’il vous plait, mon amour, tell me the truth. It will hurt me more if you lie.”
“I...” New tears came for a new kind of pain; betrayal, unrequited love, the loss of a friend. I
haven’t cried for Mike yet, and I’ve needed to so badly. I closed my eyes, and a tight cramp twisted
my heart.
If Mike had loved me that night, I wouldn’t be here. But he didn’t, and now I have David—
only to lose him too. I’ll never be happy, of that I’m sure.
Finally, I looked up at David and wi ped the rain-mixed-tears from my cheeks. “I love you
more than I love him.”
David stiffened and drew back a li ttle more. “But he’s better for yo u. You can live with
him—die with him.”
“But he doesn’t love me, David.”
“You lied to me,” he said coldly.
“I know.” My eyes closed involuntarily, stinging from the tears. “I’m sorry. I know I told you
once that I don’t love him; it’s just that—I’m re ally confused.” I looked at him—he looked away.
“When Mike rejected me, I locked all the feelings I have for him deep inside. I felt so damn stupid.
So, I denied it to everyone, and, I guess I lied to myself as well.” I touched my hand to my chest and
the words came out as a breathless whisper, “I should have known my own heart better.”
With his jaw set stiff, David glared down at me. Everything around me felt cold; my arms,
my face, the air, and my heart. As a dista nt roll of thunder echoed off the mountains to the east, I
shivered inside; a storm is coming.
“Perhaps, with thi s information coming to light, we no longer need our last two weeks
together.”
“David. No.” I rose to my knees, shaking my head fiercely. “Please? It doesn’t have to be this
way. We—we can work it out—”
“There’s nothing to work out. You love Mike, and you don’t want immortality.”
“I never said that. Please, we can make our own future. I belie ve in magic st ill. I believe
there’s hope for us—for our life—together.”
He placed a finger over my lips and brought his face down to align our eyes. “No, Ara, my
love. It is all too clear to me now. I have to be the strong one—for both of us—” he dropped his
finger, “—and you have to be the one that goes on. You must go on—have babies, beautiful babies,
and be happy—live that dream. You’ve been wai ting for me to tell you I’ll stay—that all of this is
some nightmare. But, my love—” He smiled, looking at my eyes, my lips, then my eyes again. “It’s
not.”
“But, David, I—”
He shook his head and wi ped my cheek. “Shh, don’t cr y. I love you, and you will always
belong to me; I will always be with you, but I can’t keep lying to myself, believing that you’ll change
your mind.”
“But, maybe I will.”
He shook his head again. “Even then, it would only be to save me from eternal solitude. And
for that reason, I just can’t take you r dreams away, and I can’t take your life. It is your greatest gift,
and my greatest sacrifice.”
“David,” my voice quivered.
“Look—” He pointed to a blue and black butter fly, flitting around a single beam of s unshine
falling through trees as the rain slowed to a soft patter. “You see, you’re much like the butterfly.” He
leaned closer to me. “She starts her life in the shadows, close to the ground. She lives and exists only
as others see her; a caterpillar, nothing more—then, one day, she bloomed into a beautiful, brightly-
winged creature—so free, so pure. Something she could never have been , had someone taken her
away.
“Her life is short in comparison to most, but in each moment she lives, she will fly, and she
will spread her beauty and her life through the tree tops, so t hat when her existence comes to an end
as the sun goes down on her fi nal day, her spiri t will go on, and there will always be a beauti ful
butterfly to carry on her name.” David str oked my sticky, soaking hair fro m my cheeks and held
them; rolling my face upward until I looked int o his eyes. “I love you, and your spirit will go on. As
long as you have happiness, I have everything I will ever desire.”
“But what will you do? Where will you go?”
“I am the rain.” He looked up at the sky, tucking my face against his c hest. “I ex ist each
clouded day whether the butterfly flies or falls. A human life is but only a blink in the eye of eternity.
I will go on when you are gone, I wi ll have no choice.” A silent pause allowed for the hum of the
rain to become louder. “I wish I could promise to move on, but it would be a lie. The pain I will feel
for eternity without you is a sacrifice I am willing to make to save you from forever longing, wishing
you’d been given the chance t o live. I owe that to you. For the love I feel—I owe that to you.” He
nodded once.
“So that’s it? You’re making the decision for me?”
“I have to, Ara. I’ve been watching, waiti ng, scanning your thoughts t o find some hint of
promise for us, but you keep holding onto this—for what reason, I don’t know. You don’ t—
anywhere in your thoughts—want to be a vampire, and yet you keep making me wait for your
answer. And stupidly, I keep waiting, even though I know the truth.”
I had nothing to say. The lonely eternity he must face broke my heart—but he mus t face it
without me. Life is just too important. I’ve seen it in action; the beauty, the magic it has to offer, and
I fear, if I give that up for immortality, I’ll never forgive myself, or worse, never forgive David. “Just
give me two weeks more. For forever, please? Just let me have the last two weeks.”
“Two more weeks?” He leaned back. “While you spend those days with another man? A man
you happen to love.”
“Please?” My tiny voice quivered. “Please?”
David looked down at the ground, keeping a centimetre of distance between our almost naked
bodies, and only one hand on my skin, against my lower back.
With a loud breath, I blew out the pain of co mprehension. “Can you just hold me the
n—just
for a little while longer?”
David exhaled a hard breath and let my chest fall against his as I wrapped my arms around
his neck—ignoring the small stones in the grass under my knees. His body felt cooler than it was a
moment ago, and though the rain made me shiver and the shaded canopy did not shelter us from the
icy air, my own body felt nothing of the discom fort that cold brings—only the breat htaking
perfection of David’s well-formed muscles, and his strong arms holding me so tight—like I could
float away on the breeze, or like this might be our very last embrace—ever.
“Please don’t hate me f or loving him, David. I—I loved him for such a long time before I
ever even knew you existed.”
He took a long breath and squeez ed me a little tighter, pressing his chin into the top of my
head. “I do know that. I just…I suspected it. I should have followed my gut.”
“What would you have done if you’ d asked me, and I’d told you I loved him? Would you
have left?”
“That’s the stupid thing about all of this, Ara.”
I leaned back slightly, despising the distance between our chests—and even more, t he
disconnection between our souls. “What’s stupid?”
“That, even if you had admitted your feelings for Mike—” he touched my cheek and smiled,
“—I’d still have stayed.”
“Then don’t leave yet. Give me the nights—for two more weeks. Please?”
He shook his head. “You don’t even need to ask. You know I will.” He smiled down at our
hips touching; the perfect combination of caramel skin against a plane of wet white—shining in the
silvery light. “How can I not savour those l ast few nights?” I melted against hi m again, then, after a
moment he added, “After all, it will be our last…won’t it?” He turned my face so I looked into his
shimmering green eyes. “I just need to hear you say it—from your own lips.”
“You mean…have I decided if I’m coming with you?”
He nodded. “More if you never will.”
I knew the answer, but I also knew that if I told him the truth, he’d see fit to just leave now—
why waste time—so I shook my head, and he groaned.
“Ara, I’m leaving for two years. I’m not sure wh en I will next come along this way. Please
stop playing these games with me. Tell me the truth.”
“That is the truth, David. My mind makes up its mi—well, my mind makes decisions all the
time—doesn’t mean I agree with them.”
“Stop it.” He drew a back a little further. “Ara, just say it. Just tell me you’re not coming with
me.”
“No. Because that’s not what I’ve decided on.” I folded my arms.
David stood up and moved away from me. “You must make a decision either way, you know
that.”
“Okay, then…ask me on the last day of our two weeks.”
“That’s the night of the Masquerade.”
“Then…” I stood up and caref ully touched his elbow until he turned to face me, “ask me on
the last dance.”
“The last dance?” He dropped his folded arms and raised a brow. “On the last str oke of
midnight?”
I nodded, smiling. “On the last stroke of midnight sounds great.”
He grabbed me gently by the arm and pulled me unt il my chest fell against his. “I’m sorry I
yelled at you.”
“That wasn’t really yelling, David—just a harsh tone.”
He nodded. “No matter. I shouldn’t speak to you that way, despite how I feel.”
“I yell at you all the time.”
He laughed, and I looked up to see his smile. I love that sm ile. “But you’re harmless. When
you yell, it’s merely amusing.”
“Thanks. Glad to know you take me so seriously.”
He drew a breath of concentration and gent ly repositioned his ar ms around my body; the
silky, wet skin of his forearms made me shift my shoulder blades to feel him against me right where I
wanted him. “We should go.”
“No.” I gripped my fi ngers over my wrist and held my arms around his back—making a
chain of unyielding force. He will not tear me away. Not this time. “We’re staying for a little longer
today.”
“Is that so. And...” he lift ed my chin; I held fast, refusing to even look at him. He gave in.
“What exactly are you going to do if I decide to force you?”
“You won’t.”
“Hm, you’re so sure of yourself,” he said, but I heard the smile in his tone, and the fact that
he did nothing else except wrap his fingertips in th e base of my hair and hold me, proved that I was
right. My bones turned to rubber inside my flesh, loving the closeness of skin on skin—with my
vampire—and though the summer rain continued, I felt only warmth.
It was like we didn’t care about the thi ngs that others would run from, because we knew a
pain much worse than rain on cold skin.
We let it come, let it fall around us and chill us to the bone—it mattered none, for in that
moment, we existed in a world a mil lion miles away from anything that could change. We both
knew, deep down inside, that the eternity of pai n David must face alone would come, but we would
not let that fear tear us apart.
His blood had fl ooded me with warmth—like a powerful drug—and mine had fil led his
veins—giving him life, fuelling his movements.
Right now, with the awareness of our final two weeks resting on the backdrop of the moment,
we both pretended there was still hope out there, while secretly, inside, I was praying for it.
But I could not feel the fear—feel the weight of the truth that one day he’d be gone, and my
arms would fall empty to my sides, the feel of his eternal embrace gone, his body gone, his smile just
a memory, and his lips, never more a kiss that belonged to me.
But I own it now.
I smiled into his skin. Despite everything that waits, despite everything I know will happen,
for today I can say, let the darkness come—let it take away the light, for I will hold on to my forever
with David Knight.
Chapter Four
Chapter Four
“Ara-Rose?” Vicki called loudly from downstairs.
“Yeah?” My bed felt warm and comfy with the vampire that arrived early this morning
breathing heavily under the sound halo of sleep beside me.
There’s no way I’m getting up to see what she wants.
“Emily’s on the phone,” she said loudly.
Great. Why didn’t Emily just call my mobile or my personal line?
Ha! She was probably hoping to get my dad to answer so she could hear his voice. Gag.
David, keeping his eyes closed, grabbed my hand as I rose from under the warm comforter
and fell away from his arms. “Don’t go? Emily can call back later.”
“No—I’m up now. I won’t be long, okay?”
He groaned, dropping his hand away fr om mine, then rolled over, snuggling into the pill ow
where my body had just been. “Be quick. It’s cold here without you.”
“I will.”
Since David closed my curtains when he came through my window earlier, I didn’t notice the
grey day until I stepped into t he fresh, cool air of the hallway. The windows all around the house
were open, same as every weekend, and the soft lemon scent of Vicki’s bathroom cleaner, mixed
with the moist weight of freshly c
ut grass, dried the back of my thr oat as I drew a deep breath. I
tucked my hands under my arms, wishing Id’ put on a sweater to come down. “Morning, Dad.”
Dad smiled over his newspaper. “Morning, honey.”
“Any good news?” I asked as I hurried past him to the phone on the wall.
“You know what I always say,” he moaned rhetorically, lowering his nose i nto the paper
again.
“Thanks, Vicki.” Vicki went back to the kitchen sink after handing me the phone. “Hey, Em.”
“Hey, Ara. What are you two doing today?”
By ‘you two’, I assumed she was referring to David and I. “Lazing around. Why?”
“Everyone’s going bowling tonight. You guys wanna come?”
Hmm. Leaning against the wall, feeling the weight of a deep sleep still lifting off my body, I
folded my arms and thought for a second. Bowling versus bed with David. “Well, I guess we can, but
I’ll have to check with David.”
“Okay. When will you see him?”
“When I hang up the phone.” I gri nned, watching Vicki. She had no clue what I was talking
about, thank God.
“Oh, my Gosh, Ara. You rebel. Did he stay last night?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Just...early,” I hinted, hoping she’d catch my dr ift—and couldn’t
help smiling suggestively.
“Oh. Okay. So, like, sneak through the window sort of thing?”
“You got it.” I giggled; Vicki looked at me with a raised brow.
“You two are so in love, aren’t you?” Emily asked.
“Mm-hm. So what time are you going bowling?”
“About six.”
“Okay, well, I’d say David will be in. So, I’ll just say yes for now. If plans change, I’ll call.”
“Okay, see you then.”
“Yup. See ya.” The phone clinked, and suddenly I was back in the kitchen with my parents.
“What did Emily want?” Vicki asked.
“They’re going bowling tonight.”
“Are you and David going?”
“Yeah, so far. I’ll have to check if he wants to—but I’d say we pr obably will.” I shrugged.
All I want is to get upstairs and climb back in next to David.
“What time is David coming over today?”
He’s already here. “Don’t know. But I’m going to get some more sleep before he does.”
“Sleep? It’s nine in the morning, Ara,” Vicki stated in a high-pitched tone.