Echoes & Silence Part 1

by Angela M Hudson

  “Maybe.” I reached down and slipped my undies back on, certain they were inside out but glad to be covered all the same. “Hey, Jase?”

  “Mm?”

  “How come you get cold, and puffed out?” I nodded to the spot he’d just swam back from.

  He shifted awkwardly.

  “You’re a vampire, and—”

  “We do get cold,” he corrected. “And we sweat. And get puffed out. Just not as easily as you.”

  “I know that, but you seem to be so much more human than other vampires—more vulnerable to the elements.”

  “I always have been.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just a weakness, apparently.”

  My brow cocked into a singular arch. “I don’t see it as a weakness.”

  “What do you see it as?” he asked timidly.

  I could tell from the way his eyes connected with mine for only a second before flicking away that it embarrassed him, probably always affected him, so I chose my words carefully. “You’re more human than other vampires. I like that.”

  He smiled, but it was guarded. “Do you think… if we figure out how to turn vampires back to humans…”

  “Mm?” I said, prompting him out of the pause.

  “Do you think you’d like me more if I became a human?”

  The shock from that question flooded my limbs, making me cold suddenly. “Why would you want to be human?”

  “I dunno.” He moved one shoulder up, his thick black lashes covering the color in his eyes. “I’m not sure I do. But…”

  “But?”

  “Well, if you never marry me, one day, I might just wanna…”

  “Die?”

  He didn’t respond. Just looked at the leaves rippling in unison at the edge of the pool. “If I chose to be mortal, would you come with me—be with me until I… died?”

  “This is theoretical, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Human Jase and vampire Ara.” I imagined it for a second. “Why would I decide to be with you as a human if I’d refused you as a vampire?”

  “I just thought… maybe…”

  “Because I fell in love with David when I thought he was human.” I nodded to myself, strangely picturing the way I saw David when he was just a boy to me—teleporting back in time to the mornings he’d wait for me across the road outside my house.

  “Something like that.”

  My gaze turned to the suddenly very shy guy beside me. “You think I’d love human-you more than vampire-you?”

  “Maybe.”

  I lowered my shoulders into the water and rested the back of my head against a rock, looking up at the graying sky while my legs went out long, floating on invisible currents under me. “David and I aren’t together anymore, Jase, but…”

  “Ara, I’m not trying to pressure you. I was just talking.”

  “I know.” I looked down from the sky to smile at him for a second. “But, I was actually going to say that I do love you—as the vampire. And maybe I can’t commit to marrying you just yet, but… maybe, since I’ve had time to process everything now and David seems pretty content without me in his life… I dunno, like, maybe we could… see where things go?”

  “See where things go?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Like, perhaps… date?” he asked cautiously.

  “I… guess.”

  He laughed, and when I looked at him again, the glitter in his smile made me smile too.

  “I will take that,” he said, moving closer, his near-naked body offering a little warmth to mine as our bellies touched. “Officially dating.”

  I nodded, still not really sure what I’d just committed to.

  “Finally.” He looked up at the heavens and closed his eyes, a smile so wide across his lips that the corners nearly touched his ears.

  * * *

  When I was younger, I’d sit for hours with a blue pen or a lead pencil in my hand and sketch the world as I saw it. But I’d never draw the greater picture, always only the smaller details of life, like a bird or a puddle, sometimes a leaf. My mind just couldn’t grasp the dimensions of the outer world and so it never looked right. Always looked somewhat abstract. It felt like forever since I’d sketched, but as I sat down at the desk under the hazy beam of light in the library, I suddenly had the desire to put the black felt pen beside me to paper. Something about what I had to draw felt as if it needed to choose its ink, and blue would be an insult. Red would be too harsh, while lead would fail to capture the significance.

  I sat scribbling across page after page, but the details of the image faded further from my mind the more I failed to capture them.

  “What’s that?” Quaid asked, looking over my shoulder.

  I slid my hand across to cover my sketch. “Just something I saw in a dream.”

  He sat down beside me. “A dream about a tree?”

  “Not just any tree…” I drew my hand back and showed him the black-and-white outlines of wide stretching branches, shading the roots that ran deep into the earth. “I know I dreamed about it a few times when I was a little girl, but I never remembered until last night.”

  “What changed? Why’d you remember?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, I dreamed of it again, so maybe that’s why, but something about it just felt so significant. I guess I just felt I needed to hang on to it this time.”

  Quaid nodded with thought. “Looks like that tree you and Jason hang out under.”

  “The oak?” I said and looked down at my picture again. “Kinda.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure out its meaning—if it has one.” He backed away. “I’m off to practice for the show.”

  “Show?”

  “Yeah, I’m one of a few chosen knights from the Core to be demonstrating my skills at the Festival of Autumn this year. Blade’s doing it too.”

  “What skills?”

  “I’m showing off my kung fu.” He grinned, crossing his forearms like two swords. “And Blade’s throwing some daggers at things. They asked Mike if you could demonstrate that rock-blasting power they’d heard rumors of, but he denied it was possible. Said the queen was not a shiny object to put on display.”

  “Oh. Damn. That would’ve been fun.”

  “Yes. But risky also. What good are awesome weapons if your enemy knows you have ’em?”

  “I know. I get it.” I folded my diary closed. “Can I come watch you guys practice?”

  “Sure.” He offered his hand. “Maybe Blade can sit the apple on your head this time instead of mine.”

  “Apple?”

  “Yup.” He pointed to the top of his head. “He never misses. I swear.”

  “Okay. Sure. Sounds like fun,” I agreed, but only because it would be a perfect opportunity to work on my telekinesis, while also messing with Blade a bit—make him think he was missing.

  We walked in almost total but comfortable silence down through the rolling green fields toward the Training Hall; me with my diary tucked under my arm, and Quaid with his hands in his jeans pockets, whistling a summer tune to a gray, wintry sky. It’d been a while since I’d walked with my eyes up to the day instead of down, lost in my world of thoughts and things to do. I felt like I hadn’t really seen the sun in weeks, and I hadn’t even noticed how long the grass had grown since the groundskeeper last mowed it all down.

  As we approached the rectangular building, with its high windows and cherry-coloured roof, I took a few steps back in time to the first day I met my knights. I pictured each one of them stepping forward to greet me in their own unique ways: There was Blade, whose dark shaved hair and jet-black eyes had caught my attention from the start, with that ever-present cheeky glint and the gall he had to wink at me on first meeting. He’d grown his hair out since then, wearing it in a floppy black mess that bounced when he ran.

  Then there was Quaid, who’d always had that straight spine and gleaming white grin and that ultimate air of respect for authority.


  Ryder stepped up next in my thoughts—the man that blended in with the background even in person, as well as he did when he was on guard.

  And then there was Falcon. My friend. My brother-from-another-mother. My most trusted advisor and protector. I was lucky to have those guys as guards, and even luckier to have them as friends.

  Quaid led me around to the front doors and flipped his chin at Blade, who was standing beside a round table with a basket of red apples on one side and a pile of daggers on the other.

  “Yo, bro,” Quaid called.

  “Hey, pretty little queen,” Blade said, grabbing an apple on his way over to us. “What brings you down here on a non-training day?”

  I took the apple from his hand and balanced it on my head. “Figured I’d come and risk my life for the sake of entertainment.”

  “Whose entertainment?” He snatched the apple off my head. “Because I don’t find it quite so amusing to risk my queen’s life by throwing daggers at her head.”

  “Aw, come on, Blade.” Quaid grabbed both my shoulders and positioned me against a post in the middle of the room, taking my diary for me. “She’s the perfect target, because it’s high stakes.”

  “Yeah, and I’m bored,” I added. “I’ve spent most of the day sketching images of trees. And failing.”

  “No, you’ve been at Winter Falls all morning,” Blade said, pointing at me. “I was on duty.”

  “Okay, so the whole day hasn’t been a cloud of boredom. But this’ll be fun. Please let me stay.” I cupped my hands together in prayer. “Pleeeaaassse.”

  “Fine.” He took a bite out of the apple and tossed it to me. “But you watch from the sidelines. I’m not throwing daggers at your pretty little head.”

  “Why not?” I pouted.

  “Because the king, despite his hatred for you right now, would be the first to take off my head if anything happened to yours.”

  I sunk my teeth into the apple on the opposite side to his bite, and skulked over to the bench on the sidelines, then slumped down on my butt with my bottom lip hanging playfully over my chin. “You suck.”

  “I’m a vampire, honey.” He winked at me. “And I’m damn good at it.”

  My eyes drifted away from his cheeky grin to the quick flick of his hand and landed a second later on the dagger—jammed all the way up to the hilt in the wall across the room.

  “That”—he appeared beside it, one hand flat to the plaster, the other cupped around the handle, and yanked it out—“could have been your head. Your bones aren’t like vampire bones, Your Majesty. Keep that in mind.”

  “Hey, there’s an idea.” Quaid flipped Blade’s chest with the back of his hand. “Let’s use a vampire and a few daggers of Lilithian Steel, then you can aim for the head. See if you can stick it into their skulls.”

  A flicker of excitement crossed Blade’s black eyes until he felt my glare. “Second thoughts, mate, not sure the queen would approve of us demonstrating our hatred for vampires at an event traditionally held to unite the Three Worlds.”

  “More’s the pity,” Quaid said, grinning at me before backing away and finding a nice practice spot in a square of pale white sun by the windows.

  I watched him for a while—the skill, the strength, the poise he had in combat—then turned my attention back to Blade. He was good. So good, in fact, that I decided he needed to be taken down a notch.

  He tossed a dagger over his shoulder at a small leaf pinned to the wall, raising his brows at me when we both heard the wet pop of the leaf’s flesh and the dull thud as the dagger went through the plaster. When he tossed the next one, aiming for the fly that had entered about ten minutes ago and hadn’t yet realized he was in danger, I focused all my attention and energy on his grip. But it wasn’t enough. I managed to stay his hand for only a split second before his physical strength overtook my mental, and the dagger landed in the fly’s midsection with a crunch and a sudden cease of that irritating little hum. Luckily, Blade didn’t even realize I was trying to sabotage him and continued on as if nothing had influenced him at all.

  This time, I’d go for the knife itself. Clearly, he was too strong to manipulate just yet, but flying metal had no mind of its own.

  Working with my powers while sitting on a manmade surface gave me a bit of a dull headache, which made hiding the glow in my hands a little bit harder. Luckily Blade didn’t notice it, and when he tossed the knife toward Quaid as he put his leg up in the air, I steered it toward the window instead of its intended target. It hit with a rather loud and tinny clunk.

  Quaid stood to sudden attention, looking from the knife to his groin. “You shit!”

  Blade broke into obnoxious laughter, using the noise to shield his obvious shock and dismay at missing. “I wasn’t actually aiming for you, bro,” he called across the room. “I never miss, remember.”

  “It’s still foul play! You just don’t take risks with another man’s package, bro,” Quaid said spitefully, readjusting his ‘package’.

  “Hey, it’s all in good fun, mate,” Blade said. “Just a friendly bit of target practice.”

  Quaid sighed and bent to pick up the dagger, and Blade, the cheeky bastard, quickly grabbed another one from the table beside him and threw it at Quaid’s ass.

  My gob dropped in shock. So nasty!

  Just before the tip pierced Quaid’s unsuspecting derriere, I closed my eyes and scrunched my face up tight, balling my fists, and forced that dagger to one side. Quaid roared as it struck his hip, grazing open the flesh a little and, of course, Blade folded over again, laughing so hard he didn’t even see Quaid’s fist until it crunched his nose.

  “Uh!” Blade balked, catching the volcano of blood in his cupped palm. “Shit, man, what’d you do that for?”

  Quaid grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and bent him over, jamming his knee into his jaw. “Let’s just call it a friendly bit of target practice.”

  Falling to the floor in a heaving pile, Blade coughed out and then raised his thumb. “Well played, mate. Well played.”

  I shook my head at both of them and rolled my eyes. “You guys are so mature.”

  * * *

  Mike tipped the remains of his coffee into the sink and laid the cup down, leaning on the counter, his deep gaze wandering aimlessly over the gardens outside the window. Even in all the chaos surrounding my life right now, the kitchen never seemed to lose its homey appeal: the pale washed-green cabinets and the old oak table at the center of the room always reminded me of a grandma’s kitchen, and seeing Mike there made the world feel a little bit brighter—all the more homey for the fact that he was such a big piece of my past and the only sure thing in my future.

  I waltzed in; well, kinda skipped really, chirping out a good afternoon as I headed for the fridge.

  “Hey, Ar. What you up to?”

  “Just came in for nourishment before I head back to the Training Hall.” I motioned to my basketball midsection. “Baby demands orange juice. Baby gets orange juice.”

  He smiled, standing up from his lean. “Felt it kick yet?”

  “It?” I grabbed the juice from the fridge and closed the door with my hip. “It is a girl, you know.”

  “Yeah. It just feels strange saying girl, since you haven’t had an ultrasound.”

  I grabbed a cup from the shelf and plonked it on the table. “Arthur says those ultrasound thingies won’t see through my skin.”

  “Thick-skinned, huh?”

  “I wish.” I poured the OJ and my mouth watered, already tasting the tangy citrus in the icy chill as it diffused the warmth of the glass.

  “So, you felt her kick yet?” he asked again, moving over to stand beside me.

  “Nah. But the Internet says first-time moms don’t usually feel their babies until about twenty weeks.”

  “And how far along are you?”

  I shrugged, taking a sip of juice. “According to Arthur, about twenty.”

  “Can I…” He held his hand out. “Can I feel it?” />
  “Go for it.” I leaned back a bit and lifted my glass up, so Mike could lay his hand, then his ear, to my belly. His warm, solid palm nearly covered my entire bump, and the spicy scent of his cologne rose up in a cool brush of air from his movements.

  “Hey there, little bubba,” he said to my bellybutton. “I’m your Unci Mike.”

  “Unci?”

  He looked up at me and winked, then stood tall again. “You got a problem with that?”

  “Not at all.” I raised my brows into my glass.

  “I just can’t believe you’re pregnant,” he said, taking me in. “It suits you, you know.”

  “What does?”

  “Pregnancy.” He nodded at my body. “You’re… very cute.”

  I couldn’t help but smile, and at the same time wonder for a moment what it would’ve been like if we’d been married and had a baby of our own—if he’d look at me the same way. “Thanks, Mike.”

  “Any time, baby.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and dropped a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek.

  “Ew.” I wiped it off.

  “You wipe it off, I do it again,” he warned.

  I stopped wiping and let it air-dry.

  “So, where’s the tail?” He checked over my shoulder.

  “Tail?”

  “Jason—your extra limb.”

  “He’s not an extra limb, Mike.” I put my glass down and grabbed the juice carton.

  “Coulda fooled me,” he said, slumping heavily into a seat like a spoiled teen. “Since David left for Paris, no one’s seen you without Jason two steps behind.”

  “We’re researching, and we’ve been really busy setting up his lab.” I popped the juice away and shut the fridge door. “Not to mention, he’s guiding me page-by-page through this journal he gave me—from when he was learning to use Telekinesis. I’m actually getting good, Mike.”

  “At what, exactly? Because I haven’t seen you use any new skills at training since you blasted that rock.”

  “Jase asked me to keep them between us for now. But I bet I could read your mind if I tried—or maybe even tip this juice over your head without using my hands.”