Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One (80 page)

“And that’s when we can strike,” Quaid said, slamming a fist into his palm.

“Sounds pretty good to me.” I sat back in my chair, folding my arms. “But what then? How do we kill him?”

“Well, we know that vampires become human again with your venom in their system,” Falcon said. “But that can’t be the same for a Pure Blood. However, he did weaken and grow ill after he was injected with your venom during the last attack, so it must do something to him.”

“Perhaps we can attack him—fight him long enough for Arthur to get away, then he can use that wicked freeze power to hold Drake captive until his immunity dies,” Quaid suggested.

“What do you know of my powers?” Arthur asked, turning slightly in his seat to look back at Quaid.

Quaid shrugged. “Mighta seen a thing or two.”

Falcon smirked at Arthur. “Never underestimate my knights.”

“Okay, so … is that possible, Arthur?” I asked, sitting forward now. “Can you ‘freeze’ Drake?”

“I can immobilise him—for a time. But certainly not long enough for his immunity to wear out.”

“Can we overdose him?” I suggested. “Maybe I can just sink my teeth in and bite him several times.”

“All we can do is try,” Blade said.

“Trying is too risky,” Em interjected. “We can’t gamble with Ara’s safety like that. We need to
know
that she can—”

“She’s carrying the witch Anandene,” Arthur said flatly, the truth filtering the assertiveness out of his voice. “Drake won’t touch her.”

“Well, I’m glad you seem to be so sure of that, but I’m not willing to test that theory,” Emily said, then sat back shaking her head. “Where’s Lord Eden, anyway? Can’t
he
help us figure this out?”

“Why should he?” Arthur seemed awfully insulted by that question.

“Why
shouldn't
he?” Emily snapped. “Ara is his daughter. He left his human life to be here for her, and yet we get attacked and he sits in the garden all night protecting a bunch of humans!”

“Do not place expectations on a man you know nothing about, Emily Pierce.” His eyes and voice went icy cold. “Because that
man
is a vampire. The
original
vampire, and his allegiance is not to the Lilithian kind, nor is it to the vampires. It is to the humans—as it has always and
will
always be.”

“And to Morgana,” she added spitefully, folding her arms. “Why didn't he tell us she was dead? Why didn’t he warn us that Drake might attack if he knew—?”

“How could he have known that?” Arthur asked condescendingly. “Not even Ryder knew that when he fed that information to Drake. Now—” He sat forward, using his hands to shape invisible words. “I don't know what kind of a man you've built Lord Eden—
Vampirie
,” he corrected, “up to be in your minds, but he is no mighty warrior—hell bent on seeing the survival of immortals.”

“But he’s Ara’s father. He—”

“Not anymore, he’s not. He left that life behind. And with it he left the man Amara knew,” he explained, this time in a softer tone. “Vampirie is nothing like Greg Thompson. He never was. And the sooner you all come to accept that, the sooner we can focus on our own affairs and stop wasting time waiting for him to swoop in and take sides against his own blood.”

Everyone sat quietly humbled then, pretty much just twiddling their thumbs.

“Why did he come then?” Em said. “If not to help us, why is he here?” I could tell from her tone that she was hurt. Not because Arthur had singled her out and blasted her, but because Arthur was right. Emily had no right to expect so much of my dad, and I knew it stemmed from what she imagined him to be after he saved her from getting raped back in high school.

Arthur leaned back, exhaling deeply, then looked over at me. “Amara, I don’t believe your father returned here to fight our war against Drake. I think he came to ensure that Anandene was not brought into this world.”

“You think he’s a threat?” Emily almost jumped out of her seat. “No way. He’d never hurt Ara that way.”

We all expected Arthur to defend Vampirie right away, but he just sat there, his elbows on the arms of his chair, drumming his fingertips together. “I did not know Anandene personally when she was alive. I, in fact, avoided her, because I knew she was depraved. I refer now to the encyclopaedia in the library—that records our history.”

“What about it?” Falcon asked.

“You may remember a story about a man, known to the human race as Vlad Dracula—who impaled men, women and children, among many other unspeakable acts.”

“We all know that story,” I said. “What’s your point?”

“Well, then you know, as all vampires know, that Vlad was a fictional façade created by Drake to cover up his existence—that he went to great lengths to bury the truth about himself over the course of history.”

“And what does this have to do with Anandene?” Falcon asked.

“When Drake saw to it that those stories were buried so deep in myth and rumour, he wasn’t covering the truth about himself. He was protecting his wife.”

“But … Vlad was born thirty-something years
after
Anandene and Lilith’s deaths—”

“Vlad was a lie,” Arthur practically yelled. “Those stories, the rumours of the horror he brought on this world are true, but I assure you it had nothing to do with a man named Vlad, and everything to do with the twisted pervasions of a witch. So I advise you—” Arthur slid forward. “Do not underestimate what a man, who witnessed her depravity firsthand, would not do to ensure she did not survive.”

The room went cold. I looked up at the torches on the wall to check they were still lit, because the energy and dread made everything seem darker than before.

“Dad sat there, in the library,” I said, laying my hands flat over my belly, “and assured me he would protect Anandene.”

The look in Arthur’s eye as he faced me showed the exhaustion in his soul. He knew he’d gone too far defending his life-long friend and, in the process, outing him as a possible enemy, but there was nothing he could say now to fix it. No one else could know my father meant no harm, because no one else could know my child wasn’t Anandene. “He will not do anything to harm her,” he said sternly. “But he certainly will not do anything to protect her either.”

And I knew what he meant by that. There was an underlying message in there for me—that my father would not help me move my soul into my child, because, by doing that, he put the world at risk once more of suffering the wrath of Anandene.

“Look, this meeting wasn’t called to discuss Emily’s opinions on Vampirie,” Falcon said. “We’re here to discuss killing Drake. And Councillor Knight is right.” He presented Arthur. “We need to stop wasting time hoping for a saviour. This falls on us, guys.” He waited a moment to let that sink in, looking sternly around the room at each of us. “Now, let’s formulate a plan.”

“What about my ability to break bones—with telekinesis?” I cut in. “Maybe I can snap Drake’s neck.”

“You’d need a hell of a lot more practice if we were to even risk that, Ara,” David said. “You’re barely confident enough to throw pies.”

Blade and
Quaid laughed, and I just smiled at him in surprise. “You were there? You saw that?”

He winked at me. “I’m everywhere.”

I settled back in my seat and propped my feet up on the stabiliser underneath the table. “I like that.”

David laughed once, and my heart skipped audibly in my chest when he placed his hand on my leg.

“Your dad’s an original—
the
Original,” Falcon said, sitting down. “Maybe you should practise breaking
his
bones. He’ll heal, and then we can get an idea on whether or not it’ll work.”

Arthur nodded approvingly. “I think that might be best.”

“I agree,” I said, feeling hopeful. “I mean, nothing in the world is completely indestructible, right?”

Falcon folded his fingers together on the table. “Let’s hope not.”

***

David pushed the bedroom door open and stood there, his arms folded, a smile teetering on a frown. “What are you doing, Ara?”

I lowered my cheek to the ground for one last glance under the bed, then dusted my hands off as I stood. “I’ve lost something.”

“Your mind?” he joked.

I replied with a sarcastic “ha, ha,” but as I turned away I smiled widely. It was just nice to hear him joke again.

“Seriously,” he said, closing the door behind him. “What’ve you lost?”

“Eve’s crux.” I opened my jewellery box again and dug through it. “I left it right here.”

“What, may I ask, is a crux?” In the reflection of Arietta’s dresser, I saw him glide up behind me like a creepy vampire and peer over my shoulder into the box.

“It’s a thing that ties her spirit to this world. I have to bury it before it shrinks completely, or she’ll be lost here on earth forever.”

He reached up and cupped both my arms, gently spinning me to face him. “Well, start by calming down. Okay?”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. I’m calm. But I still don't see it.”

“We’ll find it.” His eyes drifted past me then, his head cocked in an interested tilt, and he reached into my jewellery box, moving a few things aside with the tip of his finger before drawing out a diamond ring.

I swallowed hard. “I forgot that was in there.”

He held it up, studying it like a foreign object. “All of this seems so long ago.”

“It was.” I snatched the ring off him and tossed it back in the box, slamming it shut.

He grabbed my wrist as I walked away. “What’s wrong, Ara?”

“I told you. I can’t find the—”

“No. I mean, what’s wrong between you and I?”

I looked down his arm to his hand, his fingers tightly wrapped around my bony wrist. “You fell asleep last night.”

His eyes went straight to the bottle of potion on the nightstand, then closed slowly. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Mm-hm.”

He clicked his tongue and pulled me closer by my wrist, circling me in his long, steady arms. As he let out a long breath into the top of my head, his ribs sinking under my cheek, I closed my eyes and breathed it in. He felt warmer than he had in so long, his chest wide and strong, more muscled than when we first met. But the familiar creamy citrus smell was just the same, circling my nostrils and entering my heart like a happy feeling. The only happy feeling I ever really knew.

I wanted to look up at him then and tell him the truth about our baby, so badly I almost did, but he broke the moment apart as he kissed my head and said, “I’m here, Ara. I know I’ve been distant since the … since the festival. But I am slowly coming back to you. It’s just gonna take some time.”

I nodded against his chest, the silky fabric of his white shirt taking me back to the hallway at school, right outside my dad’s class. It was becoming my favourite feeling in the world—the warmth of him through a shirt.

“Mm,” he hummed. “You smell so good.”

“I do?”

He cradled my face in the cup of his palm and rolled it up to meet his. “You smell like you.”

I smiled, because I knew exactly what he meant.

“So, do…” He cleared his throat, nodding toward my jewellery box. “Do you not want to wear it?”

“Wear what?”

His lips slipped between his teeth for a second. “The ring.”

“Do
you
want me to wear it?”

“I—” With a hard breath, he dug into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it. I got a glimpse of his licence and his bank card, and that somehow just made him seem so normal. “I held on to this,” he said.

Between his thumb and forefinger, he held a familiar white-gold circle, the pale sun catching it and making it gleam.

“You … I thought you threw that away,” I said, wrapping my eyes around it for the first time in
so
long.

He pocketed his wallet. “I just couldn't bring myself to do it.”

“Neither could I,” I joked, showing him the permanent black Mark on my ring finger.

He tucked my wedding band into his palm and reached up behind his neck, unclasping the thin silver chain there. When he drew it from under his shirt, I almost collapsed, seeing his thicker but identical wedding band there.

“Have you always worn that?”

He slid it off the chain and placed it in my hand. “Always. Either around my neck or in my pocket.”

I covered my mouth firmly with the back of my wrist, holding my breath so I wouldn’t sob out loud. “But you hated me. How could you keep that with you?”

He eyed it carefully. “I just never felt right without it.”

An uncontrollable little sob hiccupped out of my chest.

David just laughed and put his silver necklace on the dressing table, then took my hand in his, sliding my ring back in place—where it belonged. “No matter how distant I am, Ara—in either miles or heart, I love you. You are my wife and nothing will ever change that. I don’t
want
anything to change that.”