The Heart's Ashes
Page 175
Regrettably, it clotted under his grasp before he seemed satisfied, but he grinned and muttered in a smooth voice as he turned his head, “The vampire is returning.”
Breathing the moist, warm air of the lake—our secret lake—I watched the sunlight filter through a gap in the leaves along the trail, making yellow patterns as it spilled onto the leafy floor. Out here, away from ears of various breeds of vampire, away from eyes, watching me train, it was easier to practice my new skills, but also harder to forget David—which, funnily enough, made the practicing easier too.
With a long sigh, I held my hand out in front of me and frayed my fingers in the sunlight. My skin looked pretty, almost transparent—kind of glowing pink. For the tingling in my fingertips, though, a sensation so constant now, I expected to see bursts of electricity rising off my hands. But they just looked ultimately plain and human.
“Petey?” I said, looking down at him by the base of the rock. “Wanna see something cool?”
He stood up, his eyes on the lake, following the aim of my hand. As I rubbed my fingertips together, heating them with friction, a small blue light flickered around my nails. I rubbed faster, holding my breath when the rise of energy flooded through my arm, like an injection of sizzling air. It built up to an almost unbearable sting, drawing a tight ache deep within the back of my skull.
It’s ready.
With a flick of my hand toward the lake, the light disappeared. Then, without any sign of affect, a ball of fluid shot up out of the water, as high as the trees, and fizzled into steam before evaporating into the atmosphere. “Cool, huh?” I folded my arm back around my knees, blinking off the niggling headache over my left eye.
Petey barked and ran to the edge of the lake, coming back with a fish in his mouth.
“Oops.” I shrunk my neck into my shoulders a little. “Is it dead?”
He dropped the lifeless form onto the ground and sat by it, licking his chops.
“Wait, you’re not going to eat that, are you?”
He pawed it, shoving it away a little.
“Good dog.”
In my pocket, my phone buzzed for the tenth time. I pulled it out, slid my thumb across the touchscreen, then rolled my eyes and replied: Yes, Vicki. Having fun. Paris is great. Tell Dad I’ll call soon.
Only, I won’t call. I don’t want to hear Dad’s voice right now because I know I can’t hide the pain in mine. I never could hide that from him. No one else noticed it, or maybe they just didn’t want to know—couldn’t bear for me to talk about what Jason did to me now that I seemed to have just ‘gotten over it’. And I guess, in a small way, I feel the same. If it’s unsaid—it never happened.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it did.
My phone vibrated again; Dad in NY. Conference.
Oh yeah, the Artefact Conference; some museum-get-together for old guys who love history. I texted back: musta forgot it was May, then switched my phone off and dumped it in the pocket of my shorts behind a many-times folded piece of paper.
Petey nudged me, his paws on the rock, his hind legs extended.
“What is it, boy?”
He sniffed at my pocket; I pulled out the letter. “You want to see this?”
He sat down.
“Do you want me to read it out?”
His answering wine was probably a yes.
“Okay.” I cleared my throat, working up my best formal-speaking-ancient-vampire accent; “Dearest princess Amara. How I long to be by your side once more. The days are not blessed with the sun in this dark world, but while I keep your smile in my heart, I am blinded by the beauty I can find in each day. I will return to you in the summer, and I intend to remain by your side until happiness is a part of your life again.” I smiled, imagining Arthur at a desk, writing the note. “So, then he signed it with just, your friend, always, not Arthur, like he usually does.”
Petey nibbled the edge of the note.
“No, Petey. I’m keeping this one.” I folded it and put it back in my pocket. “I know I’m supposed to burn all our letters, but this one just sounds so genuine, you know. No talk of prophecies and plans. I like it. It feels like a letter from a friend.”
Petey sat down again, huffing once.
“I don’t care what you think, Petey, and I don’t care if Arthur gets mad at me for keeping this. I have no friends left—” I smiled at the dog when he whined, “—except you, Petey. Just…just let me keep this one, okay.”
He looked at the lake again. I knew the conversation wasn’t over, but being that it was between me and a dog, really, I didn’t care either. Part of me wasn’t even sure the dog was real, and everything I thought he ‘said’ was all assumed and imagined. The only saving grace was that Mike could see him too; otherwise I’d think he was a figment of my imagination.
A soft breeze swept over my face and I closed my eyes, revelling in the simplicity of the moment as the sun came out again. Petey’s soft whimper made me look back at him, and my gaze followed his to a pale stream of light in the tree line where the wind carried a pair of fluttering blue and black wings; the butterfly struggled against the breeze, coming to rest on the rock, right by my toe.
“Look, Petey.” He sat up, and we both gazed in wonder, although, Petey was probably contemplating eating it. “She’s beautiful.”
She fluttered her wings for a moment, then set off again, floating along until she reached the tree line once more. I watched her dancing, and smiled. I’d love to be free like that—to fly, follow the breeze wherever it might take me. But behind her beauty, the darkness of the forest revealed a figure that stole my breath as I watched, waiting for it to come closer. My cheeks froze in the half smile they wore and the tall man, walking toward me, wearing a broad smile, became more than just an illusion or a wish.
“David?”
“Ara.” He caught me in his grasp, nearly falling over for real with the force of my Lilithian-speed run to him.
“David. What are you doing out of bed?” I stood back, brushing my hair from my face, and looked up at his. “You’re—you’re completely normal.”
He smiled, stroking his thumb over my cheek once, then dropping his hand. “Yes. Emily came by this morning after you left, used some new herb and within about four hours, I could sit up again.”
“What herb?”
Breathing the moist, warm air of the lake—our secret lake—I watched the sunlight filter through a gap in the leaves along the trail, making yellow patterns as it spilled onto the leafy floor. Out here, away from ears of various breeds of vampire, away from eyes, watching me train, it was easier to practice my new skills, but also harder to forget David—which, funnily enough, made the practicing easier too.
With a long sigh, I held my hand out in front of me and frayed my fingers in the sunlight. My skin looked pretty, almost transparent—kind of glowing pink. For the tingling in my fingertips, though, a sensation so constant now, I expected to see bursts of electricity rising off my hands. But they just looked ultimately plain and human.
“Petey?” I said, looking down at him by the base of the rock. “Wanna see something cool?”
He stood up, his eyes on the lake, following the aim of my hand. As I rubbed my fingertips together, heating them with friction, a small blue light flickered around my nails. I rubbed faster, holding my breath when the rise of energy flooded through my arm, like an injection of sizzling air. It built up to an almost unbearable sting, drawing a tight ache deep within the back of my skull.
It’s ready.
With a flick of my hand toward the lake, the light disappeared. Then, without any sign of affect, a ball of fluid shot up out of the water, as high as the trees, and fizzled into steam before evaporating into the atmosphere. “Cool, huh?” I folded my arm back around my knees, blinking off the niggling headache over my left eye.
Petey barked and ran to the edge of the lake, coming back with a fish in his mouth.
“Oops.” I shrunk my neck into my shoulders a little. “Is it dead?”
He dropped the lifeless form onto the ground and sat by it, licking his chops.
“Wait, you’re not going to eat that, are you?”
He pawed it, shoving it away a little.
“Good dog.”
In my pocket, my phone buzzed for the tenth time. I pulled it out, slid my thumb across the touchscreen, then rolled my eyes and replied: Yes, Vicki. Having fun. Paris is great. Tell Dad I’ll call soon.
Only, I won’t call. I don’t want to hear Dad’s voice right now because I know I can’t hide the pain in mine. I never could hide that from him. No one else noticed it, or maybe they just didn’t want to know—couldn’t bear for me to talk about what Jason did to me now that I seemed to have just ‘gotten over it’. And I guess, in a small way, I feel the same. If it’s unsaid—it never happened.
But that doesn’t change the fact that it did.
My phone vibrated again; Dad in NY. Conference.
Oh yeah, the Artefact Conference; some museum-get-together for old guys who love history. I texted back: musta forgot it was May, then switched my phone off and dumped it in the pocket of my shorts behind a many-times folded piece of paper.
Petey nudged me, his paws on the rock, his hind legs extended.
“What is it, boy?”
He sniffed at my pocket; I pulled out the letter. “You want to see this?”
He sat down.
“Do you want me to read it out?”
His answering wine was probably a yes.
“Okay.” I cleared my throat, working up my best formal-speaking-ancient-vampire accent; “Dearest princess Amara. How I long to be by your side once more. The days are not blessed with the sun in this dark world, but while I keep your smile in my heart, I am blinded by the beauty I can find in each day. I will return to you in the summer, and I intend to remain by your side until happiness is a part of your life again.” I smiled, imagining Arthur at a desk, writing the note. “So, then he signed it with just, your friend, always, not Arthur, like he usually does.”
Petey nibbled the edge of the note.
“No, Petey. I’m keeping this one.” I folded it and put it back in my pocket. “I know I’m supposed to burn all our letters, but this one just sounds so genuine, you know. No talk of prophecies and plans. I like it. It feels like a letter from a friend.”
Petey sat down again, huffing once.
“I don’t care what you think, Petey, and I don’t care if Arthur gets mad at me for keeping this. I have no friends left—” I smiled at the dog when he whined, “—except you, Petey. Just…just let me keep this one, okay.”
He looked at the lake again. I knew the conversation wasn’t over, but being that it was between me and a dog, really, I didn’t care either. Part of me wasn’t even sure the dog was real, and everything I thought he ‘said’ was all assumed and imagined. The only saving grace was that Mike could see him too; otherwise I’d think he was a figment of my imagination.
A soft breeze swept over my face and I closed my eyes, revelling in the simplicity of the moment as the sun came out again. Petey’s soft whimper made me look back at him, and my gaze followed his to a pale stream of light in the tree line where the wind carried a pair of fluttering blue and black wings; the butterfly struggled against the breeze, coming to rest on the rock, right by my toe.
“Look, Petey.” He sat up, and we both gazed in wonder, although, Petey was probably contemplating eating it. “She’s beautiful.”
She fluttered her wings for a moment, then set off again, floating along until she reached the tree line once more. I watched her dancing, and smiled. I’d love to be free like that—to fly, follow the breeze wherever it might take me. But behind her beauty, the darkness of the forest revealed a figure that stole my breath as I watched, waiting for it to come closer. My cheeks froze in the half smile they wore and the tall man, walking toward me, wearing a broad smile, became more than just an illusion or a wish.
“David?”
“Ara.” He caught me in his grasp, nearly falling over for real with the force of my Lilithian-speed run to him.
“David. What are you doing out of bed?” I stood back, brushing my hair from my face, and looked up at his. “You’re—you’re completely normal.”
He smiled, stroking his thumb over my cheek once, then dropping his hand. “Yes. Emily came by this morning after you left, used some new herb and within about four hours, I could sit up again.”
“What herb?”
