The Knight Of The Rose (36 page)

with his
things
.”

“What?” I looked up at him, and the moon sudd enly hid behind the clouds above us . “What

are you going to do to me?”

“It’s amusing, really. You thought you would never see him again—but you wil l. Well,” he

scoffed, “at least—your body will.”

“My body?”

“When I am done with you, I wi ll hand over your sorry remains, and you will finally be

together again,” he remarked with detest. “It’s quite the poetic ending, don’t you think?”

“No!” The fear left my li ps in an uncontrolled cry as several other cries came from nearby.

Jason and I both looked behind us to where two couples nearly toppled over the edge of the balcony

as Mike, my br ave and fearles s knight, bounded up the stair s. His eyes met mi ne for only a

heartbeat. Then, he started running.

No! Mike, don’t run, don’t come for me. Panic stole my stiffness. I wriggled in Jason’s

arms—torn between reality and paranormal. He’s just a man—Jason is just a man. What if there

were no such thing as vampires? What if I could scream—run into Mike’s arms, and this nightmare

would be over?

But it’s not a dream—it’s r eal. David was real. Ja son is real. And he really is going to hurt

me. I won’t let hi m hurt Mike, too. I love him, I’v e always loved hi m, and that is one thing that,

even as I die, Jason will never be able to steal from me.

“Jason!” I gasped in a low voice as Mike parted the crowd with brute force and closed the

short gap between us. “Run!”

Jason slowly looked over his shoulder; Mike stopped for a split second as their gazes met—a

lifetime of comprehension passed the invisible barrier between them, and in that moment, as Jason

reached down and swept me off the ground, Mike knew. I clos ed my eyes and prayed as th e

darkness closed me i n, seeing Mike’s face as all hope slipped for one heartbeat when he knew—I

was lost to the night.

I opened my eyes again to kale idoscope shadows of leaves on my hands and dr ess. Jason

held my arm and turned me to face the other direction. It was there, atop the stairs we had been

standing on, that I saw Mike grasp the rai ling and lean into the nigh t—searching the dar kness

hopelessly. “Ara!” He cupped his hands over his mouth; his tone rang out over the echo of the

shallow, rock-surrounded valley. “Ara!” He ran down the first two steps and s topped, then called

again and again. His tone becoming more desperate, his voice breaking to tears beneath the panic.

“He won’t give up, you know,” I said.

“Then he’ll die.”

I looked back at Jason, then, seeing the ser iousness in his eyes, slowly looked upon my

Zorro one last time. Mike’s hands flew into his hair; he gripped it for a second before falling ont o

the step with his head in his knees.

A girl placed her hand on his shoulder as she came up behind him. Emily.

“That’s quite a warrior you have there,” Jason said. “Perhaps I should oblige him to a duel?”

“You came here for me. You leave him out of this,” I warned, clenching my fists.

Jason watched again for a second as Emily headed back to the ball, running. Mike st ood up

and took off into the darkness—the wrong way—calling my name.

“Finally, we’re alone,” Jason said.

A frosty, pine-scented wind chilled my skin and spread bumps across my arms. Jason turned

to me, wrapping his widespread fingers over his mask, then pulled i t away, revealing a face that

stole my breath.

An exact copy of David.

“Yes, stunning, isn’t it?” He reached out and stroked one finger down my arm. “You see? It

might not be s o bad being killed by me. Perhaps you can imagine it’s my brother. Maybe you’ll

enjoy it.”

“You’re sick, Jason. David would never hurt me. He’d never hurt anyone.”

“That is where you’re wrong, dear, sweet, Ara. He is as maliciously sinister as I.” Jason’s

ice-cold fingertips clasped both of my arms. He pulled me close enough for my brow to t ouch his

smooth chin.

“He’s nothing like you.” I turned my face away. “He would never kill for the fun of it.”

Jason released me and laughed loudly. “Oh, I see. You think he’s kind—and compassionate?

Is that what he would have you believe?” He spun around a foot away from me, and bowed with

humour. “Well, perhaps I am mistak en. Perhaps I have the wrong girl.” Then, repulsion washed off

his grin. “Or perhaps you have been kept in the dark, young lady. You see, my brother saw fit to

remove a girl that
I
loved from this world, and I—” Jason’s cold breath infected the side of my neck

as he sprung up s uddenly in front of me and whisper ed his words in to my skin, “I intend to r epay

him the favour.”

I jerked away from him. “Go ah ead, Jason. If you’re going to kill me—just get it over with.

I’m tired of your childish games.” Boldly, and with detest, I folded my arms and glowered at him.

I’m not afraid to die, and I’m not afraid of you.
“Come on, then. You obviously want to

break my heart with yo ur little story about how
evil
David is. So let’s ha ve it—” I challenged.

“Maybe you can even get stuck in a little monologue just long enough for me to escape?”

Jason’s hand shot out, and every muscle in my body seized up as his tight grip clenched my

throat, restricting my breath—stopping my hear t for a be at. “Do not spe ak to m e with such

contempt, you wretched little whelp, for I will not be so kind to your mouthy impudence.” He thrust

his hand downward, violently slamming me to the floor before his fingers came loose.

I coughed out, feeling a raspy tickle in my lungs from the salty, metal-taste of blood rushing

up in the back of my throat.

“Have we learned our lesson, now?” The predator towered over me.

With tight, stinging gasps of welcome air, I rolled onto my knees and tore my mask away—

dropping it to the grass beside the tears of agony and rage that fell from my eyes.

Jason knelt beside me and held hi s curled finger just under my chin until a small droplet of

sadness landed there. He studied the salty liquid carefully, tilting his head to one side. “You are

devastatingly beautiful, Ara-Rose—
The
Rose. And he was your knight, was he not?” Then, with a

sudden fondness to his tone, he asked, “Do I frighten you?”

“I—” I tried to speak, but nothing came out; only my h eart answered with i ts erratic

thumping.

“Is it that...you do not wish to die?”

At only an inch of a turn, I shook my head. Fear had taken up a constant presence in my

pulsing veins, and I wasn’t brave enough to speak out again.

“Neither did she; my lovely Rochel le.” Jason sat beside me, his back turned slight ly, his

gaze cast to the trees overhead. “But
he
took her from me.”

“I don’t believe you.” My voice came out as a ragged whisper; I was sure my vocal chords

were damaged from the constriction. “David would never do that. He loves you too much.”

Jason turned quickly, a frown pulling at his brow. “Is that so? Then, perhaps, if you believe

that, you will allow me to illuminate the obviously very shro uded history of the one you so

unconditionally love.” When he reached for me with the speed of a slap, I cowered to the grass and

shielded my cheek. He shoved my hand away and pulled me to sit by the tight grip on each side of

my face.

“What’re you doing?” My voice shook.

“Blessing you with the gift of insight.” With his fingert ips holding my chin tightly, he

wrapped his other hand behind my neck; I pushed against his wrists with my forearms, merely

forcing him to grip tighter.

“No. I don’t want you touch me.”

“You don’t have a say.” He laughed incredulously.

In the distance, a familiar voice echoed off the rock-surrounds of the valley—trailing

away—calling my name. My heart started again, filling with hope, but it was chased with a sorrow

so deep my stomach swallowed the former.

Dad? I think that’s my dad.

“Are you ready for this, Ara?” Jason rested his thumbs under my eyes, holding me in place;

his stern tone and the indentation of his grip suggested that moving might result in a cracked skull. I

held my breath. “This is going to hurt you a lot more than it will hurt me.”

“Please—don’t.” As his icy touch sent a stingi ng jolt of electricity through my cheek, my

body wriggled instinctively, like a fish on a hook, trying to shift away from the beast. “Get off me,

it hurts.” He held firmly, forcing me to feel his burning touch; it tore through my nerves, like the

thorn of a rose on the tip of a finger—jagged and shar p. “Please—” I tugged at his thumbs. “Please

stop.”

“Close your eyes,” Jason ordered with scornful compassion. “It will hurt less.”

Shaking, I scrunched my eyes tightly over the hot, stinging tears, and drew a quick breath

instantly when I saw a girl; as clear as the sun in the day. She looked li ke a memory—one that

didn’t belong to me, but visible like a reflection. She cowered in the corner of a dark room, hugging

file://C:\eBooks\the knight of the rose\tmp_10fb7585fb340176147f7cd7cde60c05_vy... 27/05/2012

her knees and whimpering int o her arms. A man towered over her for a second, then, as he

softened, he knelt beside her, and she looked up at him; David?

Jason’s grip eased. I drew a soft breath, rel axing my shoulders as the stinging in my face

turned numb and cold.

The film imprinted in my thoughts became clearer; the girl looked up—her face bloodied

and her eyes round with fright—her whole body convulsed, trembling uncontrollably as David

reached out and stroked her hair from her eyes.

Is that...Emily?

“No,” Jason’s voice came from beside me, in the memory. “Rochelle.”

David caressed the golden-brown skin on her outer thigh, lifting the fabric of her short red

dress, while she cried harder, begging him with her shaking head and pleading eyes.

“You are such a pret ty little thing, Rochelle.” He cupped her chi n. “Do not worry. I wi ll

erase this from your mind when I finish with you.”

“Don’t you touch me!” Her face folded into a scowl.

“Touch you?” David smiled and stroked her cheek as if she wer e his girlfriend. “I’m going

to do more than touch you.”

“Morire il male e‘,” she muttered, then spat on him.

“You dirty little whore!” David’s hand flew up, slamming back down into her chin with lip-

splitting force.

I squealed, covering my mouth as she did.

“Shh.” Jason squeezed my face a little tighter. “You will give our position away to your little

hunting party.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Just watch.” He pushed my mind closer to the memory; David lowered his face to the girl’s

and whispered something in her ear. I adjusted my hearing to the statically muffled audio only just

enough to make out what he said.

“He loves you, Rochelle. He wants you to be like him.” He touched her face gently—like
my

David would. “He asked me to change you.”

“I
never
asked him to do that,” Jason said.

My chest tightened while my mind became lost in the intensity of the projection.

“David—is that your name?” The girl sat up a little from her crouched position. “Please,

David. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“Do you not love him?” David asked, perplexed.

“He knows I love him. But I—”

“Then, there is nothing else. Now. Make this easy on me, Rochelle. Do not struggle—it will

only make it hurt more.” He cover ed her mouth, gripping her with aggressive intensity as she tried

to scream.

“Please?” she shrieked, pulling his hand free of her lips for a breath. “Please, don’t, David,

I’m p—”

The blunt force he shook her with made her teeth strike togeth er in her mouth, and a fine

bleed of red seeped out between his fi ngers. “Shh.” He calmly reposit ioned his hand; her tears

flooded over David’s fingers and melted into the blood and sweat underneath. “Hush now, it will all

be over soon.”

My stomach dropped, watching David cradle her spine to his chest and meticulously roll her

head to one side—exposing her vein to his lips.

“David, no!” my squeal broke off as he sank his teeth in. I covered my face, trying to hide

from the horrible fate of this girl.

“No. You must see.”

“Please, no, Jason. Please don’t make me watch.”

He ripped my hands from my face. “You
will
watch.”

As I looked back into the memory, David looked up; his eyes met mine—disturbing the core

of my soul with the ferocity behind them—teari ng out my ever y ill-conceived notion that he was

once human inside. The blood dripped from his lips, pooling under his chin—staining the

collar of his victim while pleasure radiated from his smile.

I sobbed loudly, watching her fal l limp in his arms, her last breath drawing through her lips

as she whispered softly, “David?” He moved his ear closer. “I’m pregnant.”

I drew back, frozen, unable t o move; my heart pounded in my ches t as the realisation of the

loss that coul d never be retrieved f looded my angry heart—bringing a cas cade of tear s over my

cheeks. Rochelle faded.

David dropped her lifeless corpse to the floor—letting her head hit th e ground, making her

neck twist awkwardly as she fell—then stood up and walked away.

His heavy bl ack boots were the last thing I saw in the memory before everything t urned

black. Reality washed back like cold water on my face—making me ju mp inside as if I’d just