Secrets [5] Echoes: Part One (55 page)

He gently grabbed both my arms and looked right into my eyes, his tears slipping freely, unguarded past the confines of his lashes. “You are
fated
to be with my brother, and anything I do,
anything
that gets in the way of that, will cause us pain every time.”

“She told you that?”

He nodded.

“No, I don’t believe that,” I said, trying to stand up.

“But it’s true, Ara,” he yelled, shaking me softly. “Lilith warned me long ago, but I refused to listen. I couldn't leave you. I couldn't stay away and I sure as
hell
couldn’t stand by and watch you fall for my brother. Why do you think she saw to it that you found out about Emily and me? Huh?”

“No, that was Eve, not Lilith.” I shook my head fiercely as if to dislodge the all-too-obvious truth.

“No. She sent Eve! She sent her because I was standing there that day, Ara, with your wedding band in my hand, trying to figure out a way to tell you I was sorry—that I still loved you and just wanted to go back and undo everything.”

“No.” I shoved him off me and backed away, wiping the snot from my lip. “That’s not true. They all said it—everyone. They said you’d never forgive me, that you—”

“They don’t know me like you do, Ara.” He held my gaze for a long moment, then folded in on himself, his forearm across his gut. “But Lilith did. She knew I couldn't keep to my vow. She knew I would falter and come to you again, so she saw to it that you would
hate
me for the rest of your days.”

“I don’t hate you, David.”

He looked up from the ground. “But you need to.”

“Why?”

“Because it will be easier on us both.”

“It doesn't have to be this way.”

“But it does,” he said simply. “For the good of all. And because…” His eyes drifted to faraway thoughts.

“Because?”

“Because I … I’m not sure I want you back now.” He clearly hardened inside a little as the realisation flooded him like clean water, ending his tears. “I wanted you that day—before I left for Paris, and I’ve had moments since I returned where—” He sat down and braced his knees, holding his breath as if expecting a surge of pain. When nothing happened he sat tall again, flexing his fist. “There have been moments where I’ve had to admit to myself that I still love you, even though I hated you more than lawbreakers. But, over time…”

“What?” I crawled, hand over hand through the damp leaves, and sat in front of him. “Finish that sentence, David. Please.”

“I’m not sure I do anymore. I think I feel a sense of … maybe freedom, or perhaps lightness without you.”

I curled my fingers against the cold hard soil to ground myself. “Do you really mean that?”

He hugged his knees, burying his face in them like a little boy. “I don’t know.”

“With…” I stopped on a croak in my voice. “Without the influence of the hex, do you still hate me?”

“No.”

“And you’re not feeling that pain?” I studied him for a moment. “I mean, clearly, because you haven’t gone pale once since we entered the forest.”

His rounded shoulders moved gently up and down with his quiet breath for a while before he looked up. “The Mark.”

“What about it?”

He let go of his legs and laid his elbows loosely on top of his knees. “The pain radiated from that Mark, Ara—intensifying in my limbs until I’d pass out. But if the magic’s gone
and
the pain is gone…”

I sat straight. Mike was right. He only said it as a kind of joke:
spell ink.
But he was right. “It isn’t a Mark at all, David—not of Lilith’s anyway. You’ve been tricked.”

“Then…” His brow furrowed and his eyes slowly closed as something clearly sunk in. “
Everything
I’ve suffered since the day I woke with this Mark…”

“Is because of Morgana’s spell.”

His gaze shot to my neck, and he swept my hair back, suddenly on his knees in front of me. “Blood.”

“What about it?”

“The Mark, this hex, it must be the reason I’m rejecting blood.”

“You’ve been
rejecting
it?” I gasped. “I thought you were just denying it.”

“No.” He swallowed, licking his lips after, his eyes staying on my neck. “When I drink it—any blood, be it Lilithian or human, I….” His words petered away and his eyes glazed.

“You what?” I said. “Tell me?”

“I throw it up. Violently,” he said softly. “It won’t stay down.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, and he flinched involuntarily when I grabbed his wrist to draw his hand away from the back of my neck. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

“Weeks.” He rested back on his knees. “I try every few days but, over time, it’s gotten harder and harder to keep it down.”

“You can’t keep
any
of it down?”

He shook his head. “It started out as an intolerance to Lilithian blood but, the more I thought about you, the more I resented my brother for being with you, the worse things got.”

“So you started rejecting all blood then? Even human blood?”

He nodded. “I’ve taken to drinking wine at dinner so no one would suspect something was wrong.”

“That’s silly, David. You should have at least told us you were rejecting blood—”

“Why, Ara? What good would it do?” he said rather loudly. “Do you know what it’s like? Do you have any idea how it feels to be sustained by a substance for over a hundred years and to then suddenly reject it—to starve, to feel as though your throat and your chest is being burned every time you breathe? I—”

“David.” I stopped him, bracing both his arms. “It’s okay. It’s really okay.”

“It’s not okay.” He buried his face in my neck. “I’m so hungry, Ara. And so tired I feel stripped bare of any will to go on. I don't even know what’s real anymore. I haven't been able to think straight and, to be honest, I was too ashamed to admit to anyone that I couldn't drink. I didn't know it was because of a spell, and I thought maybe it was because of the Mark. But if that was the case then I thought all I had to do was stop loving you! Stop wanting you. Stop getting between you and my brother. I—”

“You need to eat, that’s all. Right now. You just need to eat so you can think.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head weakly. “I can't bear to bring any more blood up. I’ll die. I—”

“You won’t bring it up, David,” I assured him. “It’s because of the spell—that’s the only reason you’re rejecting it.”

“And what if you're wrong?” His eyes rounded among that ultimately distressed expression. “What then? I can’t take any more of the pain.”

“Well, the only way to find out is to try it.”

“If I leave here—go find a human, the spell will take hold again, Ara. There’s no telling what I may do if I—”

“I meant drink my blood, dummy.” I slapped his arm and showed him my wrist.

“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly and we held there for a moment or two, our eyes locked, both of us wearing childish grins.

“It’ll at least tide you over for now, then I'll go find Mike and get him to deliver some humans here to the forest and we can just…” I looked around with a casual shrug. “Camp out until we find a way to fix you.”

The angry, stiff David I’d known since his return from Paris shifted backward inside the man before me now, revealing a relaxed posture under all that stress and a shy, sweet half-smile behind the mask of hatred. “That sounds … really nice.”

I beamed, grinning from ear to ear. “Great. Then, here…” I offered my wrist again and let my imagination tell the rest of the story. His blood warmed with the idea of feeling the thick, red liquid quench his throat again for this first time in so long, and his eyes, by the light of a thin strip of rising day, showed the blackness of desire. The kind of desire that
accompanied
blood drinking.

“If I drink from you, especially since it’s been so long—” He cupped my jaw with both hands and drew my face to his. “I may drain you completely, or worse … we might…”

“Have sex?” I chewed my grin, trying to conceal my imagination’s plot to just roll back and pull him down on top of me.

“Yes,” he said in that deep, David-y tone, making my skin sing.

And words wouldn't come to my lips then; they lodged inside my throat, contained by a hope so strong the only part of my body that could move was my lashes. “What happens in the forest stays in the forest,” I suggested timidly.

He tossed his head back, laughing, his gleaming fangs suddenly more pointed and sharp.

“I promise,” I said, pushing one of his hands from my face so I could move my head at will. “If it happens, I won’t read into it too much, David—not if you don't want me to.”

“Yes you will.”

“Okay, maybe I will.”

We both laughed, but as David’s smile simmered, his eyes drifted to a distant horizon, taking his thoughts elsewhere—thoughts he kept protected from me.

“David.” I brushed my thumb down his wrist to wake him. “What’s wrong?”

“I wish I could understand what I feel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He sat down in the dirt, letting go of my face. “I’ve forced myself to hate you for so long, knowing it was the right thing to do—convinced into submission by my own stupid assumptions about this Mark and the greater good of the world. But … without that influence, Ara, without Marks and witchcraft—right here, right now, in this forest, if it’s just you and just me…” He frowned so deeply the shadows changed his face. “I’m confused by my feelings for you.”

So many things came to mind to say to him. But I wasn’t sure which words would tip him over the wrong edge, so I just sat there and said nothing, letting him be alone with his thoughts for a while.

“Blood,” he said at last.

“What about it?”

“I need to eat. I can’t think straight on an empty stomach.”

I straightened my spine and slightly angled my neck to the left, parting my hair with the tips of my fingers and draping it gently, almost seductively behind me. “Eat then. And when the dawn comes, I’ll go to the Stone—ask for advice, and maybe we can find a way to get that Mark off you.”

He cupped the side of my neck. “I’d like that.”

“Would you?” I grinned playfully. “I mean, are you sure you don't want to hold onto it? You know, keep on hating me?”

With an unnervingly menacing pace, he got to his knees again and his eyes locked to mine, so dark and desperate for blood that the green was gone. “No. Ara, you and I have been played—forced into conflict by the actions of others, and I will be damned if I will live by the commands of anyone other than myself and what I decide is right.”

“Then we’re on the same page.”

“For once,” he said softly in that deep tone, lowering his brow to mine for a second.

“Yes, for once.” I smiled, taking in his breath as it left his nose. I could smell the almost bloody, raw scent of a burning throat, but as much as I wanted to help him—ease his pain with my blood, I also wanted to kiss him. Our lips had been apart so long it hurt more now to be this close to him than it did to be distant.

I rolled my chin closer to his to bring our lips in line, but his fingertips dug into my jaw, stopping me.

“I will get to the bottom of this mess, Ara. I promise,” he whispered, his dry, cracked lips touching mine as he spoke. “And all parties responsible will be brought to justice.”

“And then what?”

“Then, we take some time—both of us.” He wet his lips. “And we figure out what we want, what we
truly
want, when there is no interference from others.”

“I already know what I want.”

His thumb moved just under the soft patch of skin beneath my jaw, stroking it gently. “Please don’t say it.”

I tried to push his hand down, but the grip intensified. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, slipping his fingertips under my silver necklace and twisting it up. “I know you say you love me, but there’s not a thread inside my heart that can truly believe that right now, Ara. Maybe not ever.”

“David, that’s just because of the spell. In a few days, things will look clearer and—”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Just…” He snapped my chain loose with a little pop and dropped it to the floor beside us. “Stop.”

“David, I don’t understa—” I started, but his hand clutched my windpipe, and before I could cry out in my thoughts and beg him to let go, his jaw shoved my head back and a set of razorblades popped my skin, parting widely and ripping my flesh open between his lips.

Fear and excitement played for the finish line inside my heart, making it race and stop intermittently. I folded in to David, instinct begging me to run while desire forced me to offer myself. The blood gushed from the wound faster than he could drink, spilling in a sticky, warm mess down my arm and inside my shirt, dribbling past my hip and under my belly. My knees buckled then and I fell back, unfolding my legs to lay on the ground at David’s mercy.