by A. M. Hudson
out of my si ght—just a split second was all i t took. I just—I was watching you. I was right there
and...” He bit his knuckle for a second. “I tried to get to you—but he was gone.”
“It’s not your fault, Mike,” I whis pered; it was all I coul d do to console him. My throat hurt
and the muscles under my jaw felt strained.
“I should’ve protected you. It was my job, Ara.” Mike looked at David for a second. “They
say you have the same mark on your neck as that kid who died—Nathan?”
What? He died from a vampire bite?
David nodded.
A vampire? Not you? David? You didn’t do it, did you?
He closed his eyes. Mike studied the both of us exchanging our private words. I looked away
from Mike, and my wide eyes studied every inch of David’ s face. There’s no way Davi d killed
Nathan. I can’t believe that. I won’t believe it.
David looked up and smiled; his warm eyes softened as he opened them and muttered,
“Thank you,” under his breath.
“They just can’t understand why—i f it was the same guy—why Nathan didn’t report an
attack. Ara, you shouldn’t be alive right now. Your attacker was carrying some rare tropical disease.
You died!”
“I died?”
“Yes. They pronounced you dead. You flat-lined, they took out the breathing apparatus, and
you died. But then, the monitor—” he looked at the small screen behind me, “it started beeping
again—you kept going. Somehow, you found a way.”
The memory of the darkness filled my mind; the air became thick and hard to inhale as I tried
to escape the nightmare infecting my thoughts again. I looked down at my hand. “My ring?”
“It’s here.” Mike pulled it from his pocket and held it up; it looked so small and fragile in his
broad, strong fingers.
“I thought I’d lost it. All this time, in the darkness, I thought I’d lost it.” My voice quivered as
the reality of being alive set in.
David closed his eyes and looked away when Mike slipped the ring back onto my finger. I
had no time to stop him—it just happened, and the hurt on David’s face tore my heart as it dropped
into my stomach.
“They wouldn’t let you keep it on,” Mike said softly. “But I kept it close to me every day.”
Like a habit that had been fo rmed over years, I twisted the ring around on my finger and
studied the shimmering red of the ruby, regretting having asked Mike about it. “Where’s Vicki? My
Dad?”
“They went for coffee,” Mike said. “They stayed for a while, but your dad needed a break—
he’s not doing so well.”
“Can you call them?” I asked Mike , but looked at Davi d quickly. I need him to go, David—I
need to talk to you.
“Sure.” Mike nodded. “Sure, kid. I’ll be right back. David, man?” Mike stood and looked at
him. David snapped out of his stiff-lipped stare. “Yeah.”
“Don’t let her go, okay?”
He nodded and took my hand, cr ushing the ring against my finger as he squeezed it. “Don’t
worry, I’ll take care of her for you.”
Mike paused a second, ignoring the resentment we all heard in David’s tone, then, with his
phone in his hand, cl osed the door, and I t urned to Davi d, trying to stop my lip from
quivering.
“I know,” he said, “ I know where you’ve been. I tried to bring you back, but I just couldn’t
reach you.”
“Why? Why did he do that to me?”
David’s face crumpled, but he stiffened immediately and held s traight. “He wanted to hurt
me.”
“Why?”
“Do you not remember what he showed you?”
Rochelle? So it was true?
He looked away. “He’s never forgiven me. I thought we’d moved past it. But he was just
biding his time until I fell in love.”
“But, that was fifty years ago, wasn’t it?”
David nodded, stroking my cheek with the back of one finger. “I’m sorry, Ara. There are no
words...” He shook his head. “No words I can offer you to make this all right.”
I grabbed his hand and held it to my cheek. “It’s okay. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
“No. What matters is that you’re alive, and that this will never, ever happen to you again.”
“So...he won’t...I mean, he won’t come back for me?”
David shook his head, seeming to hold the words in that might have accompanied the action.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because he left you alive, Ara. For what reason, I do not know, but the fact that you’re still
here—that he gave you the chance to survive—that he didn’t kill Mike when he found you—”
“What? Jason was still there when Mike found me!” I pushed myself up to sit.
David nodded, pressing my chest until I laid back down.
“How do you know?”
“I saw it all.” He rolled his chin toward his chest.
I looked away. “He told me he was going to make you watch.” I hoped he wouldn’t.
“It wasn’t like that, Ara. He wouldn’t show me—” His fists clenched. “I all but ripped it from
his mind. When I saw you here, saw the tearing on your throat—I knew. There is only one person in
this world who would do that to a girl everyone knew belonged to me.” He took off across the room,
stopping by the window, w ith the dayl ight reminding us both th at the real world still exist ed out
there. “I went straight to him— forced him to show me. Only...I wish I hadn’t.”
“I’m sorry, David. I should never’ve went with—”
“No, Ara.” He appeared beside me, taking my hand. “None of this is your fault. None of it. I
left you. I did this. Not you. You should hate me.”
That’s not possible, David. It’s not your fault—Jason did this, no one else.
He sniffed once and stayed silent for a while, looking down at my ruby r ing. “I will never
understand why he didn’t finish what he started—but I am eternally grateful that he didn’t.”
“The darkness? He wanted me to be lost in there?” I concluded.
“No.” David shook his head. “No. He sai d something—as he left you there. Something that
just didn’t fit.”
“What did he say?” My brow creased; it felt so weird to use those muscles again.
“He kissed you on the cheek and touched your hair—but he di d it so gently.” David almost
absentmindedly copied the action of his brother. “He touched you the way I would. Then he said, You
don’t know how special you are. I can break your body, but I’ll never break this. ” David placed his
hand over my heart. I looked up from my chest and into the confusion on his face. “It just does n’t
make any sense. I know him; I know what he’s capable of. Wh atever changed his mi nd, you don’t
know how lucky you are—how lucky Mike is. Ara, he was going t o—” David st opped dead and
closed his eyes.
An involuntary shudder edged up my spi ne. We both breathed heavily in the sil ence for a
second.
“But he bit me. Why didn’t I change?”
David drew a breath, masking the shaking in his chest. “I’m sorry, Ara. You—”
“I don’t have the gene?” Hot tears fi lled my eyes again. I felt mysel f being pull ed
backward—like I’d stayed put in the crowded lounge of an airport, and watched myself leave. David
looked awa
y. “But...I...I changed my mind.”
“I know.” David nodded. “You just—it’s just not in your blood, Ara.”
My whole body became motionless, my eyes closing tightly around hot, salty liquid. “I don’t
want to die anymore, David. I can’t be without you again.”
“I know. I know, my love.” He stroked my hai r, holding my face to his chest—but ther e was
nothing he could say. “You can neve r be a vampire, Ara. The promise of eternity was never mine to
give.” The emptiness of stolen dreams consumed me, and something died within my soul; all hope
fell away to the darkness of my nightmares—like a rose, falling through eternity to a marbled ground
of nowhere—laying lifeless and spoiled with a single drop of crimson on her pretty, white petal. The
only colour she would ever see again.
David rested his forehead to mine and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“How can that be?” My breath touched his lips. “How can it be over now I’ve made up my
mind?” His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes. “Sometimes, Ara, life is cruel.”
“I can’t do this, David. I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself that I’ll never get back—this can’t
be the end.”
“You’re marrying him,” David’s voice quavered as he nodded toward the hall—to where
Mike went to call my dad. “That’s as concluded as things get.”
“But you told me to. You wanted me to.”
David’s fingers tightened around my face. “I’m no saint, Ara. I want what’s best for you, but
at the same time...” he let out a heavy breath, “I coul dn’t care less if being with me meant the end of
your future.”
“Then don’t let me go.” Hope filled my voice. “Stay with me—run away with me, I’ll—”
“Ara...” his tone rose a lit tle on the end, “Ara, I can’t. You know I can’t. I have things I need
to deal with—things I must return and take care of, and running away....” he looked down at my face,
“it’s not the answer. Okay? Life is the answer and loneliness is the solution.” I went to prot est, but
David shook his head and pressed hi s thumbs firmly into my cheekb ones, gently pressuring me to
silence. “You will have a good life with him. I know now, that I’m leaving you in good hands.” We
both looked to t he hall—to Mike, to my best friend and fiancé, pr actically bouncing around the
corridor, smiling with more joy radiating from his heart than I had ever seen. When I looked back at
David, he was already looking at me—his lips twitching as if words rested there—maybe words I
wanted to hear him say.
“I don’t want to have a life anymore. I want to be with you.” The sobs broke out with a
torrent of tears. “I had a lot of time to think in
the dar kness, and none of it matters to me now,
David.” I sniffled and wiped the liquid away from my nose with the back of my wrist. “Love? True
love—that’s all that matters.”
David shook his head. “You can never be immortal, Ara. I sat here, by your side, all this time,
and I watched you die. I was helpless, unable to save you— forced to watch you fade away a lit tle
more every day,” his voice broke to a whisper. “You disappeared into nothing, until every trace of
what made you mine, what made you real—was gone.”
“But I’m still here. David, I—”
“It doesn’t change things.” A tight crease pulled his brow at the centre. “Look, I know I said
once that I will always hope you will one day change your mind, but that hope no longer exists. It’s
been ripped away by reality, Ara. I will not stay with you as a mortal—I have to leave.”
“Why? Am I so repulsive to you that you can’t love me with a heartbeat?”
David stood back and looked down at his clenched fist. “You know it has nothing to do with
lo—”
“Then what is it?” I almost screamed, I could feel my face burning with heat. “Why won’t
you just love me enough to think I’m the only thing that matters. I know I messed up. I know
I’m moody and spoilt, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t let you ta ke me away, I’m sorry I went with
Jason, and what you’re doing to me now, David, is making me goddamn well sorry I ever fell in—”
“Ara!” He held a finger up, tilting his head awkw ardly away as if he were fighting a deep,
instinctual urge within him—what it was, I couldn’t tell. “Don’t say what you’re about to say. If you
say it, it’s been said, and you won’t be able to take it back.”
I held onto the urge to yell at him, to scream at him, but I could only hold it so long; it burst
out in a singular cry, and I folded my face into my hand. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”
“Ara, Ara, stop.” He gathered me in his arms. “Ara, please, please don’t do this, my love.”
“No. You stop it. Don’t call me that. You can’t call me that and then leave me.” I grabbed his
shirt and looked deep into his eyes, my tears stopping with my breath. “You don’t know what you’re
doing. You can’t leave. I’ll die if you leave, David. I’ll never be able to—”
“You have to cope, Ara.” He unfolded my fingers from his shir t. “You’ve got no goddamn
choice.”
“No. I do. This is love. This is life. I’m alive.” I tapped my chest. “I’m alive. We get a second
chance, David. Don’t waste that.”
“I won’t.” He looked into me, and I could almost feel him reaching out to stroke my face, but
though his eyes said he wanted to, his hands stayed by his sides. “I’m leaving you so you can live. A
life with me, running, hiding like dogs, Ara, would be a waste. I will walk out that door—” he
pointed across the room, “and you have the choice to either say goodbye to me now, or never have
the chance again.”
It hurt so much—in my heart. I rolled my head back, letting my face crumple with the pain of
his impassively conclusive words. “David. Please.” My whisper was nothing but a breath. “You
can’t—I won’t live without you. I won’t, and you can’t make me.”
But he took another step away from me. “I’m sorry, Ara.”
My mouth dropped with the disbelief my heart suffered for each i nch of space between us.
The fight in me turned to fear, and I tried to move my legs—to get up and run after him, but they felt
like jelly; I could barely even move my toes.
“David.” I reached out. “David. Don’t. Please. Don’t go.”
He looked away from me, his eyes scrunching tightly in the corners as he closed them.
“David, I love you. If I could take it all back, I would. Just, please. Please stay with me—
please don’t leave me again—I want to be with you.”
“But you can’t be with me, Ara.” He appeared beside me and touched my face, stroking the
release of tears from my cheek with his thumb. “I left you with scars from my involvement in your
life—and it’s time to put it right again. I love you too much to let you get hurt like that.” His voice
trembled; he steadied it with a breath. “And I can never watch you die again. I swear—” he shook his
head and clutched a fist over his heart, “—as long as I walk this Earth, as long as I continue to move,
I will have to believe that you are alive—that you still exist, or I will not survive this human life.”
“But—how do I go on without you?” I sobbed.
David stood stiff and strong in fron
t of me, hi s tears completely dried. He pressed his lips
together and moved his head from side to side. It hurt me to see him so composed when I was
breaking apart. “You only have an other hundred years to have to live with this, Ara. I have a lot
longer—I’m sure you will find a way to cope.”
“How can you be so mean? Just because I can’t be like you.” My broken heart turned cold
then, and anger rose inside me. “You don’t love me—not when you can just leave so easily. You hate
me? I see i t in your eyes. It’s why you won’t look at me. I’ m just a game t o you, aren’ t I? Just
another victim of your cr uel-streak! You never truly loved me,” I mutter ed the last i n defeated
resolve, sobbing into my hands.
“No, Ara—I love you too much. That is why I ha ve to leave you,” he subdued the emotion in
his tone. “I’m sorry. It’s over for us—you belong to him now.”
“No.” I reached for him, just managing to grasp his shirt before he could pull away. “David,
please—you’re making a mistake.” My eyes widened with panic. “Please don’t leave me?”
Behind David, the door flung open and Mike’s smile dropped when he saw my face. “What
have you done to her?” he growled, bounding toward me.
The tense energy tore a way from the space between us as Mike pushed David aside. My
outstretched hand gr ipped tighter to my David, but my fingers slipped, and he backed away, one
painful step at a time.
“Ara? What happened?” Mike asked, tucking my abandoned reach into my lap.
“No—” I pushed up from Mike’ s embrace and searched the room for David; he hesitated by
the door, holding it ajar as his gaze quickly averted once it met mine.
“I know this will be hard for you, Ara. Believe me, I will regret this decision for the rest of
eternity,” his silky voice quivered. “But I cannot love you the way you ar e. I will only bring you
pain.”
“David,” I whimpered. I’ll die without you. Can’t you feel that?
“Non, ma cherie. The sun will rise again in y our world, but for me…it never will. We were
just a dream of mine, Ara...but even dreams eventually die.”
My eyes closed as the words he spoke touched my soul and broke my heart; when I looked up
from Mike’s embrace, my David, my knight—was gone.