The Knight Of The Rose

by A. M. Hudson

  Sitting there today made me see—lifted the rose-coloured binding from my sightless eyes and

  reflected the prisms of comprehension into my heart. I understand now, how deep David’s pain will

  go.

  He will lose me one day, and I don’t know if I can live with the fact that he will mourn me

  forever. It feels wrong, like I’m being selfish.

  But I can’t lose Mum and Harry again, or just switch off the desire to have a child, and I

  won’t give away the magic of life for an eternity of blood—even if that same fate would mean being

  with the one I love.

  Emily cursed, fumbling with the tray, nearly dropping the whole thing as she placed it on the

  bench. She straightened the milkshakes and fries, then held up the list of orders. “Okay, fries and

  shake?” she called out over the long line of teens sitting shoulder to shoulder at the bench in f ront of

  our designated lane at the bowl.

  “Mine.” I put my hand up.

  “Burger with egg?”

  Spence put his hand up.

  Like a game of popping weasels, hands shot up along the line, claiming various orders. David

  took his nacho’s and smiled at Emily, but the sm ile faded quickly to the seclus ion of thoughts

  distracting him like a theatre show in his head.

  Ryan and Alana slid into the seats next to me and pointed out some of the other kids fr om

  school, already playing on lanes further down the alley.

  It seems this is the thing to do in thi s town on a Sunday night , in fact, I’m pretty sure the

  student body of Evergreen High make up most of the customers here tonight.

  David and I were a little late since we took such a long trip out today, but even though David

  was a little quiet on the way here, I know it’s not because he didn’t enjoy the day. So much history

  has been shared. David opened up his world of grieving truths today, and it feels heavy on my soul,

  like he must feel all the time. But I’m so grateful to him for letting me in. I have a better understating

  now of the boy I love, and that will surely count toward the difficult decision I have to make in two

  weeks.

  “Well, that’s one way to eat fries?” David grimaced at my chocolate-shake-dipped french-fry,

  dripping over the cup in front of me.

  I shoved the chip into my mouth and muttered “It’s yummy” while trying to keep the food in

  and speak.

  “Yeah, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” Ryan inter jected, grabbed one of my fries and helped

  himself to a dip in my shake.

  David smiled inquisitively, reaching over to help himself as well.

  “Well, what’d ya think?” I asked.

  He frowned at first, then his face lit up. “It’s good—salt and sugar.” He nodded, then looked

  away quickly.

  “David, are you okay?”

  He looked over his shoulder, a fry still in hand, waiting for a kid to pass before whispering, “I

  feel like I just want to force you to come with me.”

  I frowned, slowly turning back t o the fr ont, catching the sweet, co mforting scent of his

  cologne as he sat straight again and si ghed heavily. “I’m sorr y.” He looked down at his clasped

  hands on the table. “It’s just…being at my aunt’s grave today really brought things into perspecti ve

  for me; I don’t want to miss you like that, Ara.”

  Warm blood flooded my heart, and a wave of sympathy almost forced me to splutter out the

  words, Let’s go now. Take me to the bathroom and turn me—but I stopped mysel f. “David. I’m

  sorry, but look—we still have two weeks.”

  “Two weeks of nights,” he corrected.

  “I know.” I reached across and sn aked my fingertip between the circle of hi s balled fist .

  “But…I’ll see you for the last dance at the ball, and who knows what I might decide in that time?”

  “You can’t come with me if he loves you, Ar a.” David sat back up straight and dropped my

  hand. “Mike can give you a life—he’s better for you. You know that.”

  “He doesn’t love me. So it won’t be an issue.” I rolled my eyes.

  “We’ll see.” David turned away and walked over to o ur lane. I sat back with my elbow

  against the table and my food untouched, watching him become the human David around Em,

  Spence, Ryan, and Al ana. The wa y he laughed, with his soul dark beyond t hose eyes, was as

  convincing as bleach-blonde hair to me. But to the others, oblivion seemed to be present like a

  permanent pair of glasses.

  He looked at me and jer ked his head quickly, re aching his hand out as he did. I let my lip

  pout for a second; he smiled a nd nodded as if to say “I’m okay,” so I hopped down off the

  stool, strolled over and took his hand.

  “You know, bowling shoes make your feet look big,” he said, looking down at them.

  My toes curled. “Arrogant comments make your ego look big. Besides—” I nodded down at

  his shoes, “—you look like you just stepped out of a circus.”

  “I think bowling shoes are a good look.” Emily popped up beside us and tapped her toe in the

  circle of our conversation. We looked down at her feet.

  I hate her. How can her feet look perfectly dainty in those shoes? She wears the same size as

  me! David laughed and dropped my hand when Ryan called him for his turn.

  “What?” Emily shrugged at me.

  “I hate you,” I said affectionately and walked away.

  Emily laughed behind me.

  Bowling has never been my forte, and, even though David rolled a perfect strike every time,

  with the exception of one, becaus e I shot him an inappropriate thought which put him off his game,

  we still lost. Ryan and Alana took home the wi n; a giant, stuffed bowling pin—purchased by all the

  losers.

  “I’ll see you guys at school.” Emily waved as we headed out the door.

  Ryan carried the stupid, stuffed pin and held Alana’s hand. “Don’t stay out too late, kids,” he

  joked.

  “Ha! We won’t,” I said. “But I’m not sure if I’ll be at school tomorrow, anyway.” Time to

  give them some story about why David’s leaving.

  “Why not?” Emily stopped walking beside Spencer and looked at us.

  “Um—” Okay, so making up a lie on the spot is easier said than done.

  “I have to go away,” David jumped in. “My uncle is taking me on holiday, so tomorrow is my

  last day.”

  “Oh no—Ara’s going to be so lost,” Emily said.

  My cheeks went hot; David grinned when I t urned my face away. “Well, I hope so,” he

  beamed, “then I can be sure she won’t give her heart away to someone else while I’m gone.”

  “Not a chance of that, David. I think you might be stuck with this one.” Emily winked at me.

  Cool, strong arms circled my waist and pulled me cl ose to a firm , tight chest. “I hope so.”

  David breathed out softly into my shoulder as he pressed a kiss to my skin.

  “What about the concert and the ball?” Alana stepped around the giant toy pin and her wide,

  jet-black eyes reflected the neon lights on the bowling alley roof.

  “I can come back for the concert, but as for the ball —well, I may make the l ast dance.” He

  snuggled his cheek against mine.

  “Well, good luck, David. I hope you make it home safe.” Emily nodded, though there was no

  smile on her lips, and her head tilted slightly to one side.

  She’s very strange sometimes. David tighte
ned his grip around me.

  “See ya, guys.” I waved again and dragged David toward the car. He opened the door and

  grabbed my wrist as I bent to climb in.

  “What is it, Ara? What are you thinking?”

  “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “Not clearly. You had about four different thoughts at once.”

  “Oh, um…well, I was wondering why you didn’t tell them you’re never coming back?”

  David smiled. “We never do that. That’s why telling you about leaving in the first place was

  such a big deal.”

  “Really? So you just disappear?”

  “Yes. Mostly. We send letters to people in positions of authority, like schools or employers ,

  once we’re safely away, but if there had been any suspicions surrounding our stay, announcing plans

  to leave could create unrest.”

  “Oh.” I traced the rubber seal along the window with my fingertip. “But, there’s no suspicion

  this time, so why not just tell them?”

  “There’s no way of knowing that. People mos tly keep their qualms to themsel ves, and

  besides…” he pulled my finger aw- ay as I s cratched the rubber back, “it’s the way we do things.

  We’re consistent in our behaviours.”

  “But you told me you were leaving.” I smiled sheepishly, forcing down a rising yawn.

  “Which is rare, mon amour, like I sai d. Now, come on—” he held his palm out to the seat in

  the car, “let’s get you home before you fall asleep where you stand.”

  With David’s smooth driving, and my implicit trust in him, it was easy, as we rolled through

  the dark streets on the ten-minute dri ve home, to fall asleep. The sound of his quiet breath made me

  feel so comfortable, like I was safe in my bed—in his arms.

  The car door made a quiet thud, and a second later, long arms wrapped my body.

  Quietly conscious of his embrace, I rolled my head into the hollow of his shoulder and let the

  gentle, soapy smell of his shirt seep into my nose with each restful breath.

  “Oh, she’s exhausted,” Dad’s voice hummed as a pale circle of light broke the darkness under

  my eyelids.

  “Shall I carry her upstairs?” David asked—holding me like a delicate treasure.

  “Uh, yeah, sure. No need to disturb her further.”

  The front door closed behind us. I stayed in the blissful elation of dream world, in David’s

  arms, until the cold touch of my pillow fell along my cheek and I sunk into the s oftness of my

  mattress. My shoes came off my feet, and a still silence filled the room; it sounded like no one was

  there, but I could feel David’s presence. “Goodnight, my love.” He pressed a cold kiss to my brow.

  I lifted my mind out of sleep just long enough to whisper, “David?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  “Stay with me tonight?”

  “I planned to,” he whispered, keeping his lips against my skin.

  The bedroom door closed, leaving me in darkness. My eyelids fell heavily, like they were full

  of sand, and I rolled over to snuggle into my pillow.

  Outside, the sound of Dad’s voice farewelled David as hi s car pulled away from our house.

  And the only other sound, after Dad’s footsteps trailed away behind hi s closed bedroom door, was

  the quiet, rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall by the front door , timing my dreams while I slipped

  away. Just before the grasp of sleep consumed me, two cool, strong arms fell around my shoulders,

  and I let myself wander into the peaceful harmony of the night, against David’s chest.

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Five

  Monday morning’s sunlight hit me like a sharp pin scraping the irises of my eyes. I blinked

  against the white glow as I craned my neck up ward and tr ied to focus on the long, solid shape

  beside me.

  “You stayed?” My voice sounded a littl e husky; I swallowed to clear my throat—secretl y

  checking the stale taste in my mouth for the scent of morning breath.

  David smiled down at me, s tretching his arms out and flexing hi s fingers. “Of course. You

  asked me to.”

  “Hasn’t mattered in the past,” I remarked sourly.

  His arm found it s way back around my shoulder, and I snuggled against his chest , rubbing

  my cheek into his shirt. For a vampire, he’s really warm—warmer than me.

  “No, you’re just unusually cold for a human,” he answered my thought.

  “Will you stop that?” I glowered up at him. Is nothing private? Next he’ll be reading about

  what I really wished he’d stayed for last ni—. My mouth dropped open. Before I even finished the

  thought, David started laughing, his chest shaking my head where it rested against his shirt. “David.

  I’m sorry. That was really rude, I—”

  “It’s okay, Ara. I’m used to it.”

  “What? Used to it?”

  “Not from you, sweet gir l. I mean from other peopl e. I hear that kind of stuff all the time,

  well—” he smiled at a distant corn er of my room, “—I must say, never quite so specif ic as your

  thoughts. One thing I can say about you, Miss Ar a—” he rolled over sl ightly and lifted my chin

  until our eyes met, “—is that you have a very creativ e and very specif ic mind. When you have a

  thought, it plays itself out more like—well , like a movie, I suppose. I ca n see the direction your

  feelings take you, and the pull of your common-sense-mind. It’s really quite amazing.” He laughed

  as he spoke.

  This is so humiliating. With a feisty huff, I threw the covers off and headed for the shower—

  and maybe a few minutes of unheard thoughts.

  “Short distances won’t make a difference, Ara. I can still hear you,” he called out as I shut

  the door.

  Rolling my eyes, I took off the jeans and green sweater I slept in last night and stuffed them

  in the washing basket, burying my undies and bra in case David needed to use the bathroom.

  “I’ve already seen your underwear, my darling gi rl,” David called out. “You don’t have to

  hide them now.”

  My shoulders dropped and I l et out a loud br eath. At least there’s one good t hing about

  having a mind-reading vampire boyfriend—I’ll have to get very good at emptying my thoughts and

  focusing on nothing. I’m sure in some odd way that could be a good skill to have.

  “Speaking of skills,” David sai d from just outside the bathroom door, “we need to rehearse

  for the benefit concert. I’m not even sure which song we’re supposed to be playing now.”

  I reached into the shower and twi sted the taps on, then stood back and waited for the water

  to get hot. “Um, we’re doing that one from that movie—the one Nathan liked.”

  David chuckled softly. “He liked a lot of movies, Ara.”

  I shook my head and groaned. “Wel l, you know which one I mean. I can never remember

  the title.”

  “Are you still doing a solo pe rformance?” His voi ce echoed a little too loud through the

  door, making me cringe a little in case Dad should hear.

  “Yeah, I’m doing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’.”

  David didn’t respond. I waited, looking over my thin body in the r eflection of the shower

  glass for a second, but when the silence lasted, I stepped into the welcoming steam whorls . The

  running taps and locked doors offered me a kind privacy I wasn’t used to anymore—one wher e I

  could imagine my thoughts were unheard...just like my shower singing.


  “Ara!” I jumped out of my skin at the sudden thud of what I assumed was my dad’s fist on

  the door. “Save some water for future generations, please.”

  Geeze. “Yes, Dad—just rinsing my hair.”

  He groaned aloud.

  I chuckled internally; he’d do a lot more than just groan if he knew I had my boyfr iend in

  my room on the other side of this door.

  Hmm, I wonder what he’d do if he found out my boyfriend is, in fact, a vampire.

  Funny thing is, I don’t think he’d freak out...like I did. He’d probably just chew David’s ear

  off—in the figurative sense—over every undocumented event in history. Well, only for the next two

  weeks, that is. I sighed heavily. It’ll be sad when David’s gone. That one last and final time I see his

  smile; the last moment I hold him close to me and whisper goodbye—it will break my heart. How

  will I go on, never to touch him again, never to hear his voice?

  Slowly, my hand rose up through the swirli ng steam cloud and rested against the foggy

  glass. Droplets of water melted around the base of my palm, and as I exhaled a breath of sorrow, the

  delicate touch of David’s long fingers appeared on the other side of the cold barrier. “Don’t cry,

  Ara,” he said in a de ep, soothing whisper. “Please, please just don’t cry.” We rested our heads

  against the glass, and I closed my eyes around the tears.

  “How can I not cry? It hurts—everything hurts.”

  “I know.”

  I could feel a kind of magic between us that I was sure I’d never find anywhere el se in the

  world; it was like, even though ou r flesh wasn’t touching, I could feel him against me—f eel him

  from somewhere deep within. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to miss you for the rest of my life,

  David,” I whispered, watching the hot, steamy water run wasted down the drain below my feet.

  “Then don’t.” He breathed out, and as quickly as he’d appeared, he was gone again, leaving

  my hand against the glass, alone.

  The phone rang while I struggled, in the privacy of my wardrobe, trying to pull my blue

  dress over my head; it rolled up, catching on my not-quite-dry skin, and stuck halfway down my

  waist. Damn it, what if that’s Mike—I don’t wanna miss him before he gets on the plane.