Mark of Betrayal
Page 51“Cool.”
He nodded again.
“Well, I'm glad you’re not going.” I leaned on the wall beside him again. “You’re the biggest pain in the arse when it comes to guard evasion, but…I kinda feel safer with you around.”
He nodded again, moistening his tight lips.
“Anyway.” I skipped off. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
He gave one last nod as I closed my bedroom door to a bad-guy-free room.
The sweet, spicy scent of butter chicken wafted away as a plate of custard and apple pie took its place. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. Down the line of vampires at the dining table, most meals went back to the kitchen untouched. But I knew Chef wasn't insulted, he was used to it. They only really ate if it was something sweet or salty. Arthur and Nathan ate on most days, but Eric was more of a drinker than an eater. Half the pitchers resting between the soft glow of candles were filled with wine, and the other half with blood. David never drank blood that way, well, not in front of me anyway, but I’d recently learned it was quite pleasurable for vampires to enjoy it as a beverage with a meal. It made me wonder why they couldn’t just do that instead of killing. And when I piped up to ask that question, was quickly shot down with several arguments.
Now, I had taken the role of the quiet, eloquent queen, who only spoke when she had something of real value to say. Which worked well for me, because it actually made me seem more intelligent when I just nodded in agreement to whoever was getting the most positive reaction from their statements at the time. I’d finally figured this queen thing out.
“So, when do you plan to send the knights to the castle?” Nathan asked, projecting his voice down the table to Mike.
“We’re still debating over who’s going,” Blade said.
Mike pinched his lips, drawing his hand away after. “Blade. The decision is final. I won't argue this with you again.”
“I was under the assumption the queen’s Private Guard were employed to protect only her,” Margret said, emphasising enough words to make that sound patronizing. “Not go on recon missions.”
“Our reasons for sending the guard are private,” Mike said.
“All we’re saying, young man, is that you should give more value to what our associate here said about Drake seeking to kidnap a Pure Created and drain it.” Walter motioned to the vampire side of the table.
Arthur looked up from his dinner as though he’d been dragged into a conversation he didn't want to be a part of. “It is not for us to decide, Walt,” he said. “Whether I am right or not is irrelevant.”
“It is more than relevant, Arthur,” Walter said. “Immunity could mean a war that tips in Drake’s favour.”
“Then we need to work harder to find other ways to kill vampires,” I said.
“If The Department for Vampiric Research has not been successful in that venture after all these centuries, what makes you think we will find a way within a month?” a man said.
“What about my electric power thing?” I held my hand up. “Can't we look into that?”
“There’s no need, Ara,” Mike cut in, pushing my hand down. “Drake is not out to kidnap a Pure Created, nor will he actually catch one.”
“When do they leave?” Nathan asked.
“In a few days. I'm waiting on word from an informant of mine—” Mike meant David, “—to let me know when Drake leaves the castle.”
“I thought you were keeping that informant away from Elysium,” I said.
Mike shook his head. “He’s just sweeping past, Ar. Don't worry.”
“And who is this informant you trust so much?” Walter asked.
“You’re not privy to that information.” Mike went back to eating his dessert, ignoring the insult his little remark caused.
“And what then?” Nathan asked, sitting forward. “Once the knights return—what are you doing about Drake?”
Mike sighed, dropping his fork with a bit too much agitation. “We may still attack—we may not. It depends what the knights find. Why so many questions, mate?”
Nathan shrugged, looking down. “Just curious. Kinda worried we might have a battle or something. I mean, I like war movies and stuff, but I never wanna be in one.”
Nathan nodded, seemingly satisfied with that, and went back to eating.
I brushed my fork along my plate and scooped up a heap of apple pie, smothered in sweet vanilla custard, then popped it in my mouth, smoothing the fork past my lips really slowly. It tasted divine—like forbidden fruit with the creamy sap of the world’s truth. That chef was a culinary master. I could even taste the cinnamon infused in the apple. “Mike?”
“Mm?” he said with his mouth full.
“Can I go down and meet the chef?”
“Course. Why?”
I shrugged. “Just wanted to tell him how good his food is.”
Mike laughed. “He’d love that, Ara.”
“Cool. I’ll go see him after dinner?”
“Okay. But the staff usually go down to the ground floor once they’re done for the day. You’ll need Quaid to show you down—he’s on duty tonight.”
“I need him to show me which one is Chef, too. It’s pretty bad if I have to ask my own staff who cooks all our food.”
“He’s the big black guy—the rest of them are white.” Mike chuckled. “You can't miss him.”
“Okay. Cool. And…thanks, Mike.”
“Why are you thanking me?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “For letting me go down there, I guess. You usually say no to everything I wanna do.”
He bumped my knee with his under the table. “I'm fine with anything you want, if you’re fine with taking a knight.”
“But not an Arthur Knight.” I grinned.
“Ha-ha. Funny.”
I smiled into my plate. I thought it was funny.
Chapter Thirteen
Quaid guided me back to the grand staircase and stepped back into guard mode once I knew my way around. I spotted Mike heading up to the east wing and darted after him, grabbing his sleeve. “Hey, Mike.”
“Hey, baby, what’s up?”
“Chef said we got popcorn in the pantry. You wanna watch a movie or something tonight?”
“Aw, baby, I can't. I got a thing with the boys.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, as if the knights were standing there, which they weren’t.
“Oh.”
“But, I could cancel—if, you know, if you’re feeling really lonely or—”
“No. It’s fine.” I smiled, waving a hand. “I'm actually pretty tired anyway. I might just get an early night.”“Okay,” he said softly as I walked away, holding my breath.
“Everything all right, my lady?” Arthur’s smiling face met mine at the base of the stairs, his eyes warm, as if he’d smelled me coming around the corner from a mile away.
“I was just headed down to the kitchen,” his suggestive tone rose an octave. “I hear they have popcorn in the pantry. Would you like to watch a film with me tonight?”
I stopped walking, smiling to myself before turning around. “Did you just hear me talking to Mike?”
He grinned, looking at his feet, his blue eyes sparkling under those thick lashes. “Maybe. But I was planning to watch something anyway. I’d like the company.”
I huffed. “Yeah. Okay. I’d love to.”
He held out his hand, and I took it, instantly feeling better—a little less…lonely.
“You’re a good friend, Arthur.”
He smiled to himself as we wandered slowly down the stairs. “I know.”
And it was pleasant. Turns out he and I like all the same movies, too. I even quizzed him a few times just to see if he was lying. But he passed every time.
“Okay, so you say you liked Kate and Leopold. Why?” I said, while Arthur, sitting beside me, scrolled through the files on his iPad.
“Leopold reminds me of myself, I guess, in many ways.”
“And Kate?”
He smiled at the screen resting on his knee. “I like her boisterous personality. She’s not like other girls and, as hideous an attribute as that can be, it is also incredibly charming.”
I settled back on his pillow and dusted some popcorn and salt off my shirt. “So, what are we watching next?”
“New one. Not even released in cinemas yet.”
I sat up a little when he tilted the screen to show me. “Oh, my God. You film pirate.”
He smiled. “Actually, this was given to me by the producer himself. We’re good friends.”
“Okay then.” I sat back. “Does he know you’re a vampire?”
“No.”
“How do you know him?”
“Met at a convention.” He shrugged, closing the case on his iPad after pressing play; the movie stared on the LCD at the foot of his bed, and a tickle of excitement charged my skin. I’d actually been waiting for this movie to come out for two years.
“This is really cool, Arthur.”
“What is?”
I hooked my arm around his and rested my head on his bony shoulder. “This—the movie, the big screen—even that thing you play the movie through.”
“Apple TV?”
“Yeah. That’s really cool.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Do you think I can get a TV in my room?”
“My dear—” He kissed the top of my head and covered my shoulder with his blanket. “I'm sure you can have whatever you want.”
“Yes, especially that.”
“Cool.”
By the time the credits rolled on the third film of the night, I was so sleepy I didn't even bother to walk down the hall to my own bed. I snuggled up safely next to my good friend, and he leaned down, rolled my shoes off my feet, tucked me up tightly and switched out the lamp. The next thing I felt was cool lips on my brow, then the absence of Arthur’s energy as I let myself slip away.
At some ungodly hour, the sound of snoring pulled me from restful slumber. I sat up, rolled the thick blankets back and hopped out of bed. Arthur was miles away in dreamland, his head cocked awkwardly to one side, a thin blanket pulled up to his chin, and his feet propped on a stool across from the armchair he was sleeping in.
I sighed, brushed his thick dark hair back and kissed his head, then grabbed my shoes and left, closing the door behind me.
“Morning, Quaid,” I said, when he stood from his lean on the wall and started down the hall after me.
“Morning, Queen Ara. Sleep well?”
I glanced back at him. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“No reason.”
“I didn't sleep with him, if that’s why you’re implying.”
“Nope.” His dark face was almost red with humour. “Only that Mike’s gonna spit chips when he finds out.”
I huffed, stopping in the middle of the corridor. “Don't tell him. Simple.”
“Stop disappearing on me, and I won't tell him.”
“Not a chance.” I took off walking again. “You’re too easy to get away from.”
“Yes, but, I get in trouble when I lose you.”
“Then get better at not losing me.” I smirked, slamming my bedroom door on him.
The morning crept along the treetops outside my window, but in here, it was still quite dark and peaceful. I slipped into bed and snuggled down into my soft mattress, hugged warmly by the weight of my quilt, which, for some reason smelled like David. And just like Arthur’s grandfather clock, the one on the wall across my room ticked, a steady beat to ensure time was passing, but as I slipped beyond the realm of wake, it slowed down and I felt kind of weightless, hooking my hand under my pillow to stay grounded.
Jason stared back at me from a memory; his green eyes so full of life, so vibrant and bright, as if his soul held all the purity in the world. “I miss you, Jase,” I whispered, but my breath came back in my own face, thick with the putrid scent of beef or rotting flesh. “Ew!” I looked up, and Jason’s green eyes became the cool blue gaze of my marshmallow pal, sitting by my bed, his inquisitive stare probing me to wake. “What, Petey?” I sat up a bit, rubbing my face. “It’s early, boy. What’d ya want?”
He lowered his head to the floor and came back up with something delicate and silver in his mouth. I reached out and touched his head; his fur was cold and a little moist with dew.
“What is it? What ya got?” I said in my best get-excited-we’re-going-walkies voice.
Petey nuzzled my hand, making me open it, then released the slimy silver string into my palm, and my eyes grew inside my head, becoming wider to take in what I only thought I saw. “Where did you get this?”
He didn't answer.
I looked back at my hand and gently flipped the trinket over, sure only once I saw an inscription in French that this was my locket. My heart. The silver representation of my attachment to David.
“Petey,” I said with a little more urgency. “Where did you get this?”
He got to his feet, as if someone had just grabbed his lead, and wagged his tail, making his whole body sway with the movement. I threw my covers back and stood up, drying the locket on my leg. There was no way he could have found this here at Loslilian—unless Arthur had it. Maybe Jason gave it to him to give back to me. Maybe Petey found it and knew it was mine. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">