Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One (29 page)

I imagined it’d all look like Shakespeare to a pre-schooler, but I could see clearly what everything was. I sat in awed silence for the next fifteen minutes while Arthur twisted and shifted the probe, explaining my baby’s bits and pieces and snapping photos, and when he announced that the baby’s size fit better with the human expectation of a fifteen week foetus, I made the first eye contact with him since he parted my labia. “What? Is that bad?”

“I don’t think so,” he said with a very warm smile, reaching down under the sheet with both hands to draw the probe out and courteously wipe the excess moisture away with a paper towel. “She seems otherwise healthy. All her organs are developed in conjunction with a twenty-two week foetus—just her size is different.”

“So she’ll be really small?” I let my knees fall together once his arm was gone.

He tore the rubber cover off the probe and binned it, laying the invasive tool aside. “Yes, but she’s healthy. Her size is clearly just a trait of Lilithians.”

“Were the others before me that small?”

“I have no way of knowing. But I do not recall any talk about Lilith’s children being unusually small upon birth. We’ll just keep an eye on things and hope for the best.”

“Here—” Falcon cupped my elbow and my hand and helped me sit up.

“Thanks. Can I go get dressed now?”

“Hang on,” Arthur said, pushing the chair out.

I watched him open a drawer across the room and take out a few items, then he walked back toward us with a cheeky glint in his eye that reminded me painfully of David.

“What are you planning to do with a pin and a scalpel? Or, wait—” I held both hands up. “Do I
want
to know?”

“I want to test just how tough your skin is.”

“And…” I looked at the pin coming toward my hip. “How do you plan to do that?”

“Stab you,” he said simply and jammed it into my skin.

“Ouch!”

“Ouch?” He frowned at me. “What do you mean ‘Ouch’? You didn’t even bleed.”

I rubbed the plump little bit of pudge on my hip. “It still hurt.”

“Yes, but the pin didn’t go through.”

“So? I’m immortal. We have tough skin.”

Falcon stood and leaned around to watch. “Even then, at the hand of a vampire, it should have gone through.”

“Ouch!” I squealed, a sharp prick popping through my forearm.

Arthur laughed, rubbing away the tiny dot of blood. “Sorry, my dear.”

“Why did
that
bleed then?” I angled my arm to look at the closing pinhole.

“Because it’s clearly not every inch of your flesh that’s like iron,” he explained, sliding the knife across my lower back.

I jumped at the sudden sting and spun around to whack his hand away. “Arthur, that really hurt.”

“And yet you didn’t bleed.” He presented my skin. “The blade didn’t cut through.”

“Why did it hurt then?” My palm soothed the little ache.

“You still have feeling in your skin. It’d hurt if I punched you, wouldn’t it?”

I nodded, hoping he wasn’t about to test
that
theory as well.

“This is bad,” Falcon said, his arms folded, one hand cupping his chin.

“Why? I don’t bleed. If someone goes to attack my baby, there’s no way they can harm her. That’s a
good
thing,” I said reassuringly.

“No.” He lowered his arms, shaking his head. “Because it means if the baby gets stuck, we can’t just cut her out.”

“It puts you both at risk,” Arthur added, laying the scalpel aside.

“Well, why would the baby get stuck?” I asked, kind of laughing.

“Many reasons,” Falcon said. “But there’s nothing to be done about it now. And you needn’t worry yourself. That’s our job.”

“And, based on the mess you were in after you fell from the lighthouse, Amara, it’s my opinion that, if enough force were used, we
could
break through your skin.” Arthur considered me for a second. “I’m just not willing to test that right now without good reason.”

“On that note—” I went to hop down but paused, holding the sheet tightly around my waist with one fist. “Can I go get dressed
now
—if you’re finished trying to cut rashers out of me?”

“Of course,” Arthur said, looking at the screen again. “Then come back and I’ll show your baby’s first pictures.”

***

“Oh my God!” Emily covered her mouth with both hands, slumping heavily down on the kitchen chair. “How did you not
die
of embarrassment?”

“It wasn’t that bad, Emily,” I said, but the heat in my cheeks moved up into my ears, melting my hair. “Besides, look what I got.”

She snatched the flimsy square page from my hand and her eyes went wide and sparkly. “Aw…”

“That’s pretty incredible,” Blade said, leaning in to look.

“I know, right.”

“Now you make
me
want a baby,” Emily cooed.

Blade laughed and plucked the picture from her fingertips, passing it back to me. “Congrats, Ara. She looks lovely.”

“Like a lovely little alien-monkey,” Em said, dreamy-eyed, and I knew that was a compliment.

“I am worried about her size, though.” I tucked the picture back into my pocket.

“Start eating more then,” Blade said, motioning a hand to my body and then the fridge. “You’re a bit skinny these days.”

“I know.” I pinched my hip. “I do eat, though. But I’m not really putting on weight.”

“Why?” Em asked.

“Arthur says it’s my metabolism. That both pregnancy and immortality naturally burn more energy. So I need to be eating for, like … ten.”

Em leaned on her hand, sighing. “Lucky. At least you can have babies.”

“You can, too,” I said. “I could reverse you and then change you back once the baby was born.”

She shook her head. “I’d lose my human compassion.”

“Why?” I frowned, then it clicked. She fell in love with Mike while he was still human enough for that compassion to set it. But she loved Blade now, and he wasn’t human, and never could be, given that my venom had absolutely no effect on Lilithians. If I turned her back later, she’d be a very different person, er … vampire.

Blade took her hand and kissed it. “If we ever get married, maybe we can adopt.”

Em’s eyes were on me when he said that, so I saw them brighten suddenly, a big smile sweeping her lips before she masked it and shrugged causally at Blade. “If we ever get married. But you’d have to ask me first.”

My cocky, confident knight turned to jello then, sending his bashful smile to his lap and leaving it there.

“Falcon’s gonna deliver the baby,” I said quickly to switch the focus.

“I know,” Em said. “He’s been training for months.”

“How come everyone knew about this but me?”

Blade slid the teapot over. “Drink it down.”

“Drink what down?” I asked.

“The self-pity. Tea and sympathy,” he said, his bony shoulders moving up toward his dark, nearly shoulder-length hair.

“Shut up.” I threw a brownie corner at him.

He ducked, laughing. “Poor Ara. No one tells her anything.”

“Don’t tease me.” I pouted jokingly into my teacup.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s not nice to pick on the fat person.”

“Blade!” Em backhanded him.

He laughed, rubbing his chest. “I was joking. Ara knows that.”

Emily looked at me. I nodded.

“I’m not pitying myself, by the way,” I said. “About no one telling me what Falcon was up to. I just feel kind of left out. Like maybe he thought there was a reason not to tell me.”

Blade shook his head, pouring my tea to sip with his sympathy. “He was worried he’d fail or decide against it and then look like an idiot—or get your hopes up. He just wanted to be sure first.”

“I would've said no.” Em took the teapot. “There’s no way I could spread my legs for Falcon.”

“Ara doesn’t seem to have a problem spreading hers for anything male,” Blade joked, then stopped with a subtle gasp, Emily and I practically burning him with our eyes. “Sorry.” He winced. “Too far?”

“Uh, yeah.” Em stood up and walked the teapot over to the sink.

“As it stands, I’m more comfortable with Falcon,” I told Blade. “I’ve never ever
ever
had any sexual feelings toward him. At all.”

Blade nodded, his eyes small and screwed up with awkwardness. “I do know that. And I’m sorry, I just—”

“I know. It was a great opportunity for a joke—even if it was at my expense.”

“It’s not true, though.” Emily sat back down. “You were just young and confused when you slept with Jason. I certainly wouldn't say you’re a slut, Ara.”

“Thanks, Em. I mean, I never thought of myself as a slut anyway, but … thanks for saying that.”

“Hey, if you’re a slut, then so am I,” Blade said. “And so is Falcon, and Quaid, and…”

“I get it.” I put a hand up to stop him.

“All I’m saying is that those guys have been with more girls than you’ve had living dinners,” he added. “Quaid’s always convinced he’s in love with at least one girl at any given time.”

“Yeah, and you were convinced you loved Ara,” Emily teased.

Blade’s cheeks went as pink as a pig.

“Nice one, Em.” I offered her a high-five.

“I had that one coming, didn’t I?” Blade said.

“Yes.” Emily punched him in the arm. “You’ve been in pick-on-Ara mode all day today.”

He rubbed his arm. “She’s just so easy to pick on.”

“I have feelings, you know,” I said, looking into my cup.

“I know. But your feelings aren’t hurt.” He picked up my stray brownie corner and threw it back at me. “So don’t pretend they are.”

“What? Can’t I milk a bit of sympathy?” I showed him my cup. “I’ve heard it goes great with tea.”

“And fidelity goes great with marriage, too, yet—” he started, but Em shrieked, grabbing the laughing knight by the arm then hauling him to his feet so fast he didn’t get to finish what he was saying.

“Bed. Now,” she ordered, smacking his bottom. “Naughty boys don’t get to stay up late.”

“Night,” I called.

Em just tossed an apologetic wave over her shoulder as they fled down the corridor.

I laughed into my lonely cup then and looked at the fridge. “Now, what’ve you got inside for a second midnight snack?”

***

Fourteen of the children that started the week as vampires were now human again. The ones we turned after David and Jason left were still suffering the psychological effects of their immortal tortures, but I could at least take solace in the fact that it wouldn’t be long before the boys returned and got started right away on the erasure phase. The fact that they’d have to wait made turning the children that little bit harder though; knowing they’d wake as little humans but the nightmares of their past would still be so vivid in their minds. I just wanted them all to be okay
now
. Completely okay.

Plans had been set for a Mobile Transformation Unit to head out to Lamia next week and change those who’d already been adopted. Before months’ end, there would be no vampires under the age of sixteen in our community and there would be a few more empty cells in the manor’s underground chambers. I would sleep better at night knowing I wasn’t resting peacefully right above so many suffering right below. But the upcoming plans had me stirring in anticipation all last night, leaving me tired and overly emotional today. From the dawn start, to the harrowing ordeal of prying open a cell door that hadn’t been unlocked in a hundred years, to the three severely mentally damaged children I’d already turned back, I was utterly exhausted, taking brief trips to the corridor to cry between patients. These little children were so savage and demonic, so far beyond mental repair, that we had four guards in the room, straps binding the small bodies to the beds; and a hell of a hard time keeping them still enough to get venom in their systems. The effects of Arthur’s sleeping toxin—the one thrown into the Black Cells before the doors were opened—hadn’t rendered the children quite as compliant as we’d expected, and it had been my decision to continue as planned anyway. Only now I wished we’d waited. And looking down at the small boy on the table under my hands set my decision about tomorrow in stone. We needed a better way. I couldn't look into another pair of hollow eyes, so empty and ferocious, and hurt them that way—flood them with burning venom and then shock them until they were human again. In some ways, that seemed almost more brutal than leaving them where they were. Each little child I turned over the course of the day had taken hours upon hours of preparation before the procedure, followed by at least another hour from bite to finish. My soul, my heart, my eyes were all worn down and the toll it took on my physical strength could be measured in the decline of my enthusiasm.