Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One (35 page)

“So you don’t still feel for her?”

“Not like I did back then. No. I mean, I care, don’t get me wrong, and I want her safe and well, but that’s as far as it goes.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Right.” He rolled away and sat up again, the all-business eyes fixing on nothing across the room. “Now go back to sleep.”

“I can’t.” I wriggled and tossed onto my side, tucking my legs up. “You've made me restless now.”

“You’re a grown woman, Ara. Settle yourself down.”

“Hmpf.” I flipped onto my other side, lay for a second, then flipped back. My lower legs felt tight and yet loose all at the same time, like I needed to run or perhaps rub them fiercely. I kicked my blanket off and tried laying in the cool, but it only brought prickly bumps out on my skin, so I tucked myself back under the covers, sitting up after to re-fluff my pillows.

“Ara.” David smirked at me. “Are you doing that to annoy me?”

“No.” I punched my pillow and fell down heavily on it, my long hair spilling out around my shoulders and down my arm. “My legs don’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

I flipped over again, away from David, and as I was about to roll onto my back, his hand caught my arm, stopping me.

“Ara?”

“I’m restless,” I said, angling my neck back to look at him. “I can’t get comfy.”

He groaned, closing his eyes as they rolled to the top of his head. “You are a pain in the arse, do you know that?”

“Yes. People tell me frequently.” I pouted into my pillow, keeping my back to him so he wouldn't see that the hurt was real.

Without a word then, without even a breath, he moved his hand up and let his fingertips fall ever so slightly against my skin, and it responded to their call, tiny bumps rising to meet the breath of a touch, all the hairs standing on end as he drew my sweater down over my shoulder. And as the night air mixed with the warmth of the fireplace and settled across my exposed skin, all the energy flowed down from inside him and into me, rushing through every vein in my body, charging it with life and hope and something indistinguishable.

I tensed rather than relaxed, my eyes scrunched and not so much closed.

“Don't hold your breath, Ara,” David said. “You’ll pass out.”

“I can’t help it. That tickles so much.” I let out the breath I was holding and drew another one to keep me alive while he overwhelmed my senses. “I’ve missed touch.”

He exhaled and the long breath travelled coolly down the bare skin along my neck, over the edge of my jaw and made me close my eyes just to hold it all inside me. “Then my brother hasn’t been …touching you?” he asked.

“No.” I laughed, drifting away a little, easing and relaxing breath by breath; first my skin, then my limbs, and finally, my eyes became heavy and the gentle rhythm of David’s breath across my face took me that little dive closer to the other side of consciousness.

I felt him shift downward beside me, tucking his arm comfortably under him, his weight pinning me into the covers like a sausage in bread, and the magnetic field of attraction pinging off the both of us seemed to lock us hip-to-spine that way as his fingertips wrote tiny promises of impossible things across my wanting skin. Every time his touch came to the rim of my sweater, I prayed he’d go that little bit further, move the fabric aside that little bit more, and cup his palm firmly across my waist, holding me there, naked against him, while we slept.

But as the day’s exhaustion swept me away, he shifted again, up onto his elbow, and pressed his lips softly to my ear, making contact only with the fine hairs along my jaw.

“I still care about you,” he whispered so quietly I held my breath to hear him. “I just wish it didn’t hurt so much to say that.”

I tried to open my eyes and respond, but it was too late. I was too far gone.

Waking to a morning so real after a night so unbelievable gave the air an unnaturally still, kind of ethereal feel, like maybe real wasn’t what was real anymore—or maybe “real” was a choice.

I closed my eyes again and drew a deep breath, reliving the gentle touch of David’s fingers—the touch that had sent me into my first perfect and dreamless slumber since I couldn't remember when. My mind, heart and soul all wanted to read into it a thousand different ways and determine that, deep inside, he did still love me. But that cold old-school matron of a thing called common sense stepped in and sharpened the fuzzy, romantic focus of my wishful thinking. It was a lapse in the order of conduct, that’s all. David cared about me, and that’s the only thing his touch meant. I cared about Em, Blade, Falcon, many people, and I’d be there to comfort them to sleep if they were upset, in just the same way David had comforted me. It did not, nor would it ever, mean he wanted me back.

It was nice, though, to feel his compassion once again, even if, when he woke me slightly as he rose in the early hours of dawn, he had whispered in my ear that I wouldn’t remember any of it when I opened my eyes. But, clearly, his mind tricks didn’t work so well on me anymore. Immortality had indeed set in and so had all that godly strength I was supposed to have. I wouldn't tell him that I remembered, though. He must have wanted me to forget for some reason, and if he knew he couldn't erase my mind so easily, it might prevent him from being kind in the future. For now, I’d play ignorant. Or, of course, I could just outright ask him why he tried to erase it.

My fingers tapped lightly on the blanket atop my belly as I explored that thought.

Openness. Complete disclosure between us. That’d be nice. Refreshing. But dangerous. Who knows where things would go if all the cards were out on the table?

One thing I was sure of was that it’d certainly make for an interesting conversation.

I took off the brand-covering mood-ring, held my hand up to the air, my fingers spread, and studied the Mark. I could cover it up easily enough with a fancy piece of jewellery, but no matter how well I hid the physical truth I couldn’t hide the way my pulse raced when he’d enter a room, or how my eyes would take him in. My heart had finally settled—finally knew exactly what it wanted and would not change, nor play along with the game I needed to play, for anything. Honesty was starting to look like a mighty grand idea. Even if it did mean I’d get rejected, laughed at and probably wish I hadn’t opened my big fat mouth in the first place.

“Ara?” Emily pushed my door open with her butt, walking in backward, followed by the scent of toast and eggs.

“Hey, Em.”

“Hey.” She turned to present a silver tray. “Thought you might be hungry since you skipped dinner last night.”

“Thanks.” I quickly pushed my ring back on and sat up, repositioning the pillows supportively behind me. “I’m starved.”

“I know. And, by the way, Mike made it.”

My eyes widened just a little. “Then, in that case, I am
really
hungry. It’s been
ages
since I’ve had Mike’s cooking.”

“Well, it’ll be worth the wait.” The tray wobbled a bit until Em found the perfect balance across my knees, then she sat down on the bed just below my crossed ankles. “But it comes with a hidden intention.”

“It does?”

“Mm-hm. David said I should look in on you.”

“Why?” I asked casually, buttering my toast.

“Said he found you asleep in the library and you … you were calling out for your dad.”

A lump formed in my throat, catching my first bite of breakfast and making it stick. I swallowed hard, nodding all the while to indicate that I’d answer her as soon as I could breathe. “I dreamt that my dad was Vampirie.”

“The Original?” Emily smiled widely, her brown eyes sparkling. “God, I wish
I’d
had that dream.”

“Well, it was only that—a dream.” I reached over and patted her hand. “Mind you, if he was a vampire, I’d have to keep
you
away from him.”

“Me?” She leaned back. “Why?”

“Because you always had a crush on him—”

“I so did not!”

“You so did too!”

“Okay,” she rescinded, looking down bashfully at her lap. “Maybe I had a
little
crush.”

I wheezed out an indignant scoff.

“But I love Blade,” she added quickly. “Like,
really
love him. That crush on your dad was only because he was my knight in shining armour. How can a girl
not
fall for that?”

I held very still, my toast in hand, going back to my days as a teen at school—where I met my very own knight. “Yeah, almost impossible.”

She rubbed my ankle. “Did he … did David talk to you about what happened between he and I yet—the Spirit Bind thing?”

“No.” I shook my head slowly, laying the toast down to grab the coffee. “I had a dream about it that night I found out, though, And it felt so real, I thought maybe I’d snuck into his thoughts and—”

“What happened in the dream?”

My lips hesitated against my cup, a breath away from a sip of distraction. But I put it down. This needed to be addressed because, quite frankly, I wasn’t so sure my ‘dream’ was just a product of my imagination. I’d thought for too long that, in the same way I tapped into Jason’s memory of he and I sleeping together, I might have done the same to David. “It was disturbing, to be honest.”

Em bit her lip, wincing.

“He…” I went back and allowed myself to remember what I’d seen. “You left his house—some argument about … I can’t remember. But, you walked home alone and didn’t call him to say you were safe.”

She stiffened, her eyes taking on a rounder, wider shape.

“You were in your room, and…” I frowned, closing my eyes to see it a bit clearer. “He had on his baseball jacket.”

“Stop.” She grabbed my leg firmly. “How can you have seen that?”

“Oh, Em.” I moved the tray aside and shuffled forward to wrap her in my arms for a hug. “That was real? That’s what really happened?”

She whimpered into my shoulder for a few minutes, making my hair damp. “He just didn’t care how he hurt me, Ara. He knew he’d erase it so he just let loose, you know. He…”

“I know.” I rubbed her back in a circular motion. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Em.”

“It’s so hard to hate him, though. I
want
to hate him. But he was
so
different then,” she said with a laugh, brushing her hair back from her cheeks. “And I know how it feels to have no compassion for humans. I mean … I only suffered that for a few seconds, and it was enough to make me wanna go out and do some amazingly terrible things.”

I laughed with her.

“There’s these two sides, you know? The David that was … I’m sorry to say,
horrible
—” She smiled apologetically. “And then there’s this David that loved a human. And the two are so different I can’t be mad at the guy I know
now
.”

“Hm, yes, he has a bad habit of making it hard to be mad at him.” I softened a bit more when I saw the confusion and sadness fighting for ownership of her eyes. “But, for what it’s worth, Em, I’m glad Jason turned you so you remembered it all. Because I couldn’t imagine not having you here.”

She smiled at me, cocking her head. “And I couldn’t possibly imagine not being here. I mean, I know we don’t talk much anymore, but I know you’re here for me if I need you, Ara. And you know the same, right?”

“Yeah. Course I do.”

“And then there’s David.” She exhaled his name, her posture sinking melodramatically. “I love that boy to bits, but man is he a screw-up when it comes to girls.”

“He just has a tendency to be a bit selfish, I think—maybe overprotective but lacking the ability to look outside himself enough to realise when that overprotection has become control.”

Em’s brows went up in unison. “Very analytical of you, Ara.”

I grinned, tapping my head. “Well, I get plenty of time to think.”

“Any thoughts on me then? I think I need analysing.”

“Why?”

“Because I
love
David. I always have and I know now how much of that was attributed to the Spirit Bind. But it’s messed up. I should hate him. And when it surfaces—you know, the nightmares and the flashbacks of what he did—I get so resolved to march down to his room, rap on his door and tell him he’s a monster. But…”

“But then you look into those warm, loving eyes, and you just can’t see the monster anymore?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, tucking her silky hair behind her ear. “And I don't know if that’s because he isn’t a monster or if maybe I’m just stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Em,” I promised. “You’re just in a very unique situation. Fact is, David did bad things. He still does bad things. But he would never do now what he did to you then—not even to a stranger. Not even to prove a point
or
gain control.”

“I know. I do really know that. But—”

“Maybe you just need to have it out with him,” I suggested. “Tell him how much you hate him—”

“I have.”

“Huh?”

“I have,” Em said again, a little more awkward this time. “We talk about it a lot, you know.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm.” She nodded. “And he always comforts me after. I mean, it’s really weird being in the arms of the person who hurt me, but … he holds me when I cry.”

I leaned back a bit so I could clearly see her eyes. “He doesn’t talk to
me
about it.”

“And he won’t.” Her whole face held the apology I also heard in her voice. “He’s just so ashamed and so sorry, Ara. He’s never had to be sorry for things he’s done before, you know—never had to live around someone he’s hurt that badly.”

I nodded.

“Except you,” she added.

“Me?” I said, shaking my confused head. “What d’you mean?”

Her chest lifted and sunk with a hard breath. “I know him—through and through. And our special connection means that he can’t hide anything from me.”

“What would he try to hide?”

“That he hates himself for the anger he displayed—the
way
he displayed it toward you lately,” she said slowly, calculatedly, as if she was holding back. “But he hasn’t
actually
admitted that. Not even to me. And he normally does, you know. He normally tells me how he’s feeling about things, but every time he even gets close to talking about you, he…” She screwed her nose up. “It’s … he gets up—really quickly, and just disappears.”

“So he doesn't wanna talk about me. What’s so weird about that?”

“Well, the fact that he goes to such great lengths to avoid it.” She laughed. “When he runs away, it almost looks like he’s sat on a nest of fire ants.”

I laughed too.

“He just jumps up and I don’t see him again for a few hours.”

“Weird.”

“I know.” She smiled so sweetly then that I saw the Em I knew from high school again—the girl who’d not suffered at the hands of vampires. “He’s a good man, Ara. I mean, he’s done some shitty things, but … that guy we all loved at school—”

“He’s still in there, huh?”

“Yeah. So…” she started, and now I could actually
feel
her getting to the point. “I know he’s made it clear that he doesn’t love you anymore but … don’t give up on him.”

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to, Em,” I said, making my eyes wider for a second.

“Really?”

“Really.” I went to grab my tray again but stopped. “Is that not obvious?”

“No. Not even a little bit.”

“Wow. Guess I’m better at hiding my feelings than I thought.” I decided then that at least one person needed to know the whole truth, so I slid the mood-ring off my finger and held it up to show Em. “I told Lilith I had no intentions of being with Jason.”

“H-o-l-y cow!” She leaned forward and grabbed my hand, pressing firmly on the tip of my nail as if it’d change the colour of my Mark. “She did this to you?”

“Branded me, yeah.” I drew my hand back and slipped the cover on. “Told me David would never come back to me and that I’d die because I chose him.”

Em’s mouth dropped, her tiny teeth showing just below her lip. “Die?”

“Yep.” I grabbed my tray and laid it over my lap. “But you can’t say anything, okay?”

“But—”

“There’s no changing it now,” I said casually. “It’s set in stone, Em. And if you tell anyone, all it’ll do is upset them.”

“But I don’t want you to die.”

I had to laugh at the way she said that, as though she was complaining that she didn’t want me to go on holiday for a year or move away or something. “It won’t be for a while, I imagine. In fact, I’m pretty sure it means Drake will get his way and have Lilith’s soul back. But at least I’ll leave a beautiful little baby girl behind.”