Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)
Page 61I nodded. “Shall I ask him?”
“Yeah. Sure, go ahead.” He took my hand. “Come on. Let’s leave them to it.”
“So,” I asked as we headed for the door again, “do you think they’ll be okay? One day?”
“You know, Ara?” He stopped and placed both hands on my arms. “I think, for once, you might’ve been right. I'm sure they’ll be fine—one day.”
Self-satisfaction made me smile; I wanted to bathe in the glory of being right, but didn't want to ruin the moment. “Even if there’s no such thing as this prophecy child?”
“Yeah.” He looked back at Joshua and Max. “I mean, it’ll be a long eternity for them—never growing up, but, they do have the option of death—if they want it.”
I didn't like that idea—or the idea that they’d never grow up, never marry, never get their first car or have their first beer. But this was the best we could do for now, until I figured out all these different agendas and uncovered the truth of the past that we so solidly based our entire future on. “So, um, when will you bring the others?”
“When this group are successfully adopted out.”
“Have you lined up any Lilithian families yet?”
“I'm pleased to say, yes, we have.” Mike opened the door for me, closing it behind us. “And there are even a few vampire families.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, nice couples too. Very human.”
“So, they're not still mental from the blood-lust?”
“No, the couples who’re adopting are one’s who’ve been in love with a human before—most of them still with that partner. So, they’re only as messed-up as you or David.”
“That's great, Mike. This is the kind of thing I've been needing to hear.” I stopped walking and stood on my toes, my lips by Mike’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“No worries.” He grinned as I kissed him. “Now, about this Jason thing.”
“Oh, come on, Mike. Don’t give me hard time.”
“No, Ara,” he said softly. “I was just going to say I give it my blessing. I don't like it, but I understand it. Okay? Just don't let me down—just don't—” he paused, “—don't do anything with him.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Good. And just because I'm not going to give you a hard time, doesn’t mean I'm gonna go easy on him.”
“No, that would be too much to ask for, wouldn’t it?” I remarked sourly.
“Ara?” He leaned on the wall. “You know how much I hate that guy. Okay? So just let me be the protector, and you just be a good girl and live with it.”
“No. You can treat Jason civilly, or I go back to being a pain in the arse.”
“All right,” he huffed. “I’ll try to be civil. I’ll even spar with him at training today, how’s that sound?”
“You know he can put you out, Mike, if you cross him? You better not try to hurt him.”
“Hu!” He breathed. “You're worried about me hurting him? Where’s the loyalty?”
“You don't need it. He does.”
“Just because no one likes him.”
“I like him.”
“You worry me.” He pointed at me and walked away.
After sparring with Ryder, and losing in front of the entire Guard, I sculled some water down with a couple of aspirin and sat back to watch Mike spar with Eric. They were a good match; Eric had years of experience in kickboxing, but Mike had brute strength and courage. They reminded me of lions in the wild, fighting over a kill, except, both of them were laughing and making comical observations about each other’s mums.
“Hey, Ara.”
“Hey, Jase. Petey.” I scratched the dog’s head. “Haven’t seen him for a while.”
“He comes and goes.” Jason shrugged. “Sometimes we don't see him for a couple of decades.”
“Where does he go?”
“No one knows, and it’s not like we can ask him, either.”
“You can.”
“Shh.” He looked around at a few knights standing nearby. “I rather people don’t know that.”
“Oh. Okay. Why?”
“Because they might try to use him as a spy.”
“How?”
“Kidnap you—threaten to torture you if I don't tell them everything the dog, who everyone talks openly around, knows.”
“Oh. Right. Never thought of that.” As I sat back again, my blood ran cold, and I looked up with wide eyes. “Has Petey told you anything I've ever said to him?”
Jason’s closed lips twitched, turning up a bit, while his eyes stayed forward. “Maybe.”
“Aw, Petey!”
Petey barked once over Jason’s laughter, and Mike looked up to the noise, copping Eric’s fist to the side of his head; he went down, hitting the sparring mat hard, Eric’s knee jamming into his skull in a knockout strike.
The knights roared, some howling like wolves, others exchanging money.
“Oops.” I shrunk a bit.
“It wasn't your fault, Ara.” Jason stood up and peered over the crowd at Eric, propping his foot on Mike’s chest, his arms raised to the ceiling, flaunting his own victory. “I can’t believe Eric knocked him out.”
I got to my feet, too. “Isn't someone gonna help him?”
“I’ll go.” Jason took off on one foot, but Mike slowly rolled up to sit, rubbing his head.
“Toughen up,” Eric said, offering a hand.
“That was a lucky strike.” Mike stumbled to his feet and gave Eric a one-armed hug. “I pity the next guy to try that.”
“I pity Ara.” Eric winked at me. “She’s the one who distracted you.”
Mike threw me a vehement glare, wiping his face on a towel.
“Sorry, Mike.”
“S’okay, baby. I was just kidding.”
“Good fight, man!” Jason slapped Eric’s palm, bumping shoulders with him as he came over.
“Yeah.” Eric swiped blood off his lip. “Mike had that round ‘til the end there, though.”
“And I’ll have the next one,” Mike said, then pointed at Jason. “Your turn, villain.”
“Bring it on.” Jason flipped his chin in Mike’s direction.
“Eager for another beating, are ya?” Mike took off to the centre of the room and stood waiting like a hungry wolf in a standoff.
“Sure,” I said, catching it.
As he wandered over to Mike, flexing his fingers and wrists, my mind subconsciously compared the two; Mike, with his broad shoulders and huge arms, sweat covering his hairless chest in a fine layer, and Jason, who was half Mike’s bulk; his arms and back thin, but contoured nicely with definition, enough that my heart started a little faster.
He turned to grin back at me, clearly having heard it. The rest of the immortals in the room kept their eyes forward, politely pretending not to have noticed.
“Knock him dead, man,” Eric said playfully.
“Hey, Ara?” Jase called over to me. “How ‘bout a good luck kis—”
“Jase!” I leaped from my seat as Mike smashed his elbow into Jason’s head, sending him flying into the mirror; it cracked under Jason’s weight, his hand pressing hard to the glass as he found his balance and pushed off the wall, forcing himself back up to swing at Mike.
“Nice try,” Mike said, ducking, and grabbed Jason’s waist, slamming him to the ground. All the knights rushed in, surrounding them, making a ring of bodies with barely a millimetre between shoulders.
I stood on my toes, and Petey took off under the knights’ legs, barking loudly. The roars came in waves, the men wincing and waving their fists in the air.
“I can't see,” I whinged, pushing at them.
“Here, climb up.” Eric took my hand and helped me up onto the bench. “Better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Don't mention it.”
He stood with his arms folded then, feet slightly apart, watching the crowd of soldiers barking like animals, while I steadied myself with a hand to his shoulder, rising onto my toes to see over them. It was a mess of flesh and red, moving so fast I could only make out dark hair to blonde, until Mike caught Jase in a chokehold, sweeping his foot under the huddle, dragging them both to the ground.
“Come on, Jase,” I said to myself.
As if he heard me, Jase managed to disentangle his arm from under his ribs, and reached up, jamming his thumb into the soft flesh below Mike’s chin, sending him backward.
“He’s got spirit,” I said, but as soon as the words left my mouth, Mike spun a really wicked roundhouse kick into Jason’s chest, which he blocked, only to receive a straight-cut jab to the skull that would’ve lobotomised a human. “Go for the balls, Jase!” I yelled, and several of the knights turned to look at me; I shrugged.
“Ara?” Eric tugged my hand.
“What?”
“Don't watch anymore, kiddo.”
“I have to. I have to make sure Jason’s okay.”
“That's my point.” He cupped his hands under my arms and pulled me down to the ground. “Mike ruled that we can't use special abilities in sparring, and Jason’s nowhere near strong enough to beat him in a fair fight.” He nodded to the men exchanging more money. “We all know that.”
I covered my mouth slowly. “Wait, how come he lets me use my static power then?”
Eric smirked. “Exactly.”
I frowned over at the heat cloud of sweaty bodies surrounding Mike and Jase. “So, what, he made that ruling on knights only?”
“Uh-hu.”
“But, Jason’s not a knight. Neither are you.”
He nodded, his smirk growing. “That rule applies to whom and to when it suits Mike.”
“So, this is just some lame excuse to beat the shit out of Jason?”
Eric’s head whipped around to look at me. “I don't think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”
My teeth grinded in the back of my mouth, my fists tight. I charged forward, electricity flickering in my hands.
“Ara.” Eric grabbed my shoulder. “Stay out of it.”
“Because if you intervene, you may as well label Jason a pansy now. No, in fact, how ‘bout you tie a big pink ribbon around his chest and call him Mary-Anne.”
“I don't care about his reputation, Eric. Someone has to help him.”
He dropped back from his lean toward me. “I’ll step in soon, okay. If it gets much worse.”
“Why can you step in but not me?”
“’Cause I'm a guy, Ara.”
I scratched my head and looked at Jason, on the floor—just able to see his hair through the legs of a knight. He was beaten bloody, weak, and still trying to finish the fight.
I couldn’t watch him get hit again. “Fine. I have a headache from Mike forcing me to zap things today, anyway. I need to go rest.”
“Okay.” Eric nodded and smiled, keeping his eyes on the fight as I wandered away. “Oh, and Ara?”
“Yeah?”
He held his arm out; I folded into his embrace, frowning while he hugged me tightly.
“What was that for?” I asked, stepping back.
He shrugged. “Just because.”
“O...kay,” I said, and walked away again. As I made it to the doors, the knights’ roar of disgust barely masked the sound of something wet splashing across the floor. I walked faster. I didn’t want to know who or what just split open, and I so was not petting either of them up afterward.
Chapter Sixteen
Morgaine stroked the brush through my hair. Tingles of pleasure trickled through the long waves, like static fingers, kissing my nerves. I closed my eyes.
“How’s the headache now, Your Majesty?”
“It’s fading.” I looked down at my hands. “It seems like every time I get stronger, the headaches get more severe. I shot Falcon back ten feet today with my spark, and Eric said he felt his heart start when he got hit—like David, at the lake.”
“I wonder what it would do to a vampire if their heart actually started?”
“I don't know. Maybe they’d turn back into a human?”
“If only it were so easy.” Morg laughed.
“Knock, knock.” Mike tapped lightly on the door.
“What?” I said, with more than a little hostility.
“Ur, can I come in?”
I looked at Morgaine through the mirror, and she put the brush down, walking over to push Mike out. “Her Majesty isn't talking to you, Mike.”
“Ar, come on,” he whined. “I'm sorry, okay. Maybe it was a bit mean to go up against him that way, but he asked for it.”
“How?” I stood up; Morg stepped back. “By doing everything he can to help us out.”
“Help us out?” he scoffed. “How’s he helping?”
“By being a friend. By…I don't know. He’s on our side. I thought that counted for something.”
Mike sighed and wandered into my room. “I don't trust him, Ara. I never will.”