Mark of Betrayal

Page 22

“You foolish little girl.” The keeper grabbed my wrist and dragged me across the dirt—hooking his toes around the cage door to close it as he shoved me into the bloody heap that was my best friend.
“Mike?” I whimpered, rising up on my hands to touch his face. “Mike. Please be okay.”
But he wasn't okay. His chest, his neck, his whole shirt was drenched in the sticky, thick paste of redness they’d drained from his veins. I shook his shoulders, slapping his cheek, listening for breath.
“Do something!” I yelled at the keeper.
“Nuttin’ to be done now, missy. You got what you came ‘ere for.”
“And what’s that?” I spun around to look at him, spite littering my upturned lip.
“A lesson.” He turned away.
I was about to find the nearest rock and ditch it at his head, but Mike grumbled, his hand moving to grasp his neck.
“Mike?” I sat back on my heels, giving him space.
“Argh. You—” he groaned, rolling up. “Never. Listen.”
“I'm so sorry, Mike. Are you okay?”
“Is that a joke?” he said, thumbing a massive gash on his elbow. “I’ve just attended a three-course meal, Ara, and I was the bloody main.”
“I'm so, so sorry.”
I was about to say I should’ve listened to you, but Mike cut in with “No, you’re not” and stumbled to his feet, leaving me on the ground to look up at him. “You’re bloody lucky those Damned were just fed, or I’d be in the regeneration chamber right now.” He winced, wiping his jaw. “That really freakin hurts.”
“So?” The keeper looked down at me, leaning on his metal stick. “Learned any valuable lessons today, Your Royal Pain in the Arse?”
“Hey!” I scoffed. “You can't call me that.”
“I’ll allow it this time,” Mike said, shaking his obviously very irritating sore arm. “After all, he was right about you.”
“Right?”
“Yes, right—that you’d come back down here and let those Damned out,” Mike said.
“Why do you think I left the keys on the hook?” The caretaker pointed to the wall.
“You set me up?”
“Baby, I'm sorry, but you always have to learn the hard way.”
“You mean…?” I clambered to my feet, using the wall to steady myself. “You knew they’d do that?”
“Of course, Ara. Did you think I was stupid?” Mike shook his head and clapped the keeper on the shoulder, like they were best buds. “We had you figured before you even came down here today. The doors were barricaded at the other end so the Damned wouldn’t get out.”
“And, what, you were just gonna let them rip me apart?”
He shrugged, half laughing, half folding over in agony, propping his hands to his knees. “If that’s what it takes.”
“Hu!”
“What? You’d heal.”
“Unless they ate my heart or took my head off!”
He stood up, wiping a hand across his nose. “I was watching for that.”
“What, you mean you were conscious?”
“Yep. Ate onion this morning and everything, just to make my blood less appealing.” He rubbed the gaping wound on his neck. “Had extra blood, too, so I’d heal faster.”
“You asshole.”
“You’ll thank me one day,” he said smugly and picked up a lantern. “You needed to see that people generally do things for a reason, Ara. Just because you don't agree, doesn't make it wrong.”
Mute with bewilderment and disappointment, I looked back at the children. “I really thought they were—”
“I know what you thought.” Mike wrapped a heavy arm over my neck; he smelled of blood mixed with dirt and sweat, and, now I thought about it—onion. “Exactly what the last person who talked to them thought, too—and now she’s dead.”
“I thought you were making that up—to scare me.”
“Why would I do that, Ara? Honestly.” He shook his head again—his new favourite move when it came to me. “She was all too real, baby. Human. Not lucky enough to be like us. She didn’t even get a chance to heal.”
I looked at the bloodied mess of Mike’s face, and felt absolutely no pity for him. “Well, you deserve every scratch you got.” I folded my arms and stormed past him. “Jerk!”
“It was worth it,” he called after me.
I stopped. “Why? So you and your pal there had another chance to beat those children.”
Mike grabbed my arm, appearing beside me at vamp speed. “No, Ara—it was the only way to teach you a lesson. Maybe now you might start to realise that, sometimes, what your heart tells you, and what’s right, are two different things.”
“My heart tells me they wouldn’t have hurt me if you weren’t here.” I poked his chest. “It’s you and that…that thing they’re afraid of.” I pointed at the keeper. I meant the stick, but calling him a thing served my point, too.
Mike huffed loudly and dropped his arms to his sides. “There’s just no getting through to you, is there?”
“Not when it comes to what I believe is right and wrong, Mike.”
“Ara, you’re a little girl, for God’s sake. You wouldn’t know the complexities of right and wrong if they came up and ripped your hair out.”
“There are no complexities, Michael! Black and white. That’s it. And the black of it is, those Damned are children.” I pointed a straight arm at their cage. “And the white of it is, I'm going to help them.”
“And what are you gonna do?” He leaned forward, towering over me. “Let them loose? Give them a bedroom and a dolly to play with?”
“I don't know. But one way or another, I will find a way to make their lives better. I know what they’re capable of now, but that changes nothing.”
“Ara, they’re like the Children of the Corn, baby. They haven’t been changed by compassion for humans. They see killing in black and white, whether you wanna believe that or not.”
“That may be so, but desperation and loneliness will turn even the sweetest kitten into a savage beast.” I started walking again but stopped and looked down at the little boy, now sitting by the bars again. “We have no right to create monsters and then punish them for monstrous behaviour, Mike. We start making plans for a new home for them—today!”
Chapter Five
Petey sat by my feet, well, on my foot, while I leaned my elbows on the balcony railing, trying to spot the lighthouse through the orange glow of sunset. Now that I’d been down to the field and knew where the lighthouse was, I could just make out what I thought was the top, but I wasn’t sure. Below my balcony, the summer smell of the forest mixed with the briny salt of sea spray on the breeze, making me thirsty. Really thirsty.
“Where do you think he is, Petey?” I asked, scratching him on the head. “If he doesn't call soon, I think I'm just gonna jump over this balcony and go see him. He promised. He said ‘every day. I will call you every day. Six, no, nine times a day’. What happened to that?”
Petey whined, licking his chops.
“Ara?” Mike’s voice kind of made me cringe. I knew why he was here. “Why aren’t you at dinner?”
I looked down at Petey. “Told ya we’d get in trouble.”
“You’re blaming the dog?”
“It was his idea,” I said, and Petey groaned, moving to sit by Mike’s feet.
“Right. Looks that way,” Mike said, a little smug.
“Okay. Fine. I just…I'm too depressed to go down there and pretend I want to listen to everyone argue.”
“Too bad,” he scoffed. “A part of our tradition is to dine in community each night. And you’re the princess—you don't get to hide in your room and throw a tantrum because the world isn't going your way.”
“Mike? I just got attacked by a gang of bloodthirsty kindergarteners and I haven’t heard from the man who’s supposed to love me for nearly a week, because he doesn't want to speak to me.”
“Doesn’t want to, huh?”
I nodded.
“Look—” He scratched just beside his eye. “I’ll talk to him for you, okay? But I know he’s just feelin’ it pretty deep—this whole being apart thing. His way of dealing with that is to distance himself.”
“How would that help?”
“Ar, you know how it is—like when you talk to a friend on the phone that you haven’t seen in ages. It always hurts more right after you hang up.” He tugged softly on a strand of my hair. “He still loves ya, baby.”
“Well, until he tells me that, in his own words, I think I have a right to feel a bit sad.”
“Yes, you do, but you don't get to sit here and wallow in it. You have a responsibly to your people, and a part of that is maintaining rituals, even if you don't feel like it. Now, suck it up and get down stairs.”
I watched my door swing closed behind him, letting my lip quiver. “I just can't go down there, Petey. I’ll cry. I know it. If I have to sit through another stupid argument between vampires and Lilithians, I think I’ll just burst into tears.” I covered my face. “I’ve had enough. I'm not going.”
“Not even if I ask you?” Eric pushed the curtains back and stepped into the pink light of the setting sun.
“I just can’t.” I looked back out over the ocean.
“Ara, please. You're the only person worth talking to down there.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Do you really think I want to be there?” He leaned against the railing beside me, arms folded, back to the view. “I'm a vampire. I have no real need to eat, but I go—for you.”
I bit my teeth together, shaking my head.
“Please?” He grinned, and that dimple-indent thing leaped off his cheek and hit me in the hard exterior.
“Uhg! Fine.” I threw my hands up. “But only because I'm hungry—not because you used that cheeky grin on me.”
“Okay.” He cocked his head, winking. “I won’t tell anyone you can’t resist me—it’ll be our little secret.”
“You wish.” I punched him softly in the arm.
“Hey.” He grabbed my wrist. “When did you last have blood?”
“Just after the attack—a few hours ago. Why?”
“See this?” He ran his index finger over my vein. “See how it’s raised and the smaller veins around it are purple?”
“Mm-hm.”
“It means you’re blood-thirsty.”
“Already?”
“You must have used a lot to heal.”
I ran a finger over my wrist. “I guess so.”
“I’ll call up a Sacrificial.” He went to walk away.
“No. Don't. I’ll just starve.”
“Why?”
“I really hate those guys. They’re so impersonal.”
“That's the idea, kiddo.”
“I know, but…I don't know. Maybe I'm more like you guys than my kind.”
“What do you mean? You want to kill?”
I sighed. “No. Not kill. But…I like the bite—the intimacy. Drinking from some man in a suit, who looks away while I suck his arm, is like washing chocolate down with a glass water, real quick, so you can eat a plate of broccoli.”
Eric laughed loudly, rolling his head back; his pointy fangs made me miss my vampire so, so much. “Here. You’ll just have to drink from me then, until David can come back.”
“Are you immune?”
“Yeah. Mike’s been tipping his blood into a cup for me.” He made a face like he was grossed-out.
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“And that makes you immune to my venom, too?”
“To all venom, including Created.”
I took his hand in a delicate grasp. “I really hope you’re right about that, Eric.”
“If not, guess we’ll find out the hard way.”
“And…” I looked at his wrist, then his caramel eyes, all smiling and knowing. “What about the lust?”
His brow arched high. “Amara, I think we’re a little past all that now. Just drink.”
* * *
“Well, the prophecy child is no longer an option!” one person said sternly; I rolled my eyes, walking into the Great Hall.
“I disagree. There is nothing to say it must be conceived with a firstborn son of Knight.”
“Right, and if it was, Arthur is a firstborn anyway, so he could impregnate her.”
I looked right at Arthur when I heard that, my lip turned up; he closed his eyes, shaking his head as if to say ‘sorry’.
“Look, right now, we need to focus on catching Drake,” Mike cut in. “We can debate the prophecy after that.”
Everyone stood suddenly, conversations ceasing as I pulled my chair out. I held the urge to swallow in the silence until, as I sat down, everyone else followed, making quiet chatter again.
“We should be focusing on the coronation,” Portly woman said.
“Yes. Steps. We must look at this in steps. The coronation needs to happen.”
“Why?” I said, unfolding my napkin.
A few people shook their heads, a couple of eyes rolling.