“But…I thought you hated him.”
“Not enough to kill him, Ara.”
“Oh.” I looked down, feeling pretty bad about that assumption. “So, how did you figure out the immunity thing?”
“I didn't. It was you.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “You, with that beautiful mind of yours.” He kissed it again. “You tried to keep the thought from me, about you and David having shared blood and bitten each other, but I saw it, and it was all I needed.”
“Oh, my God. I can't believe you saw that thought.”
“Yes.” He smirked. “That could have been very dangerous information for me to have.”
As everything that happened down in that cell flooded back through me, I stared blankly at the day. “So, was it you who told Arthur about immunity?”
“No. Does he know?”
“Yes. He said I slipped up. But I didn't,” I said, sitting taller, shaking my head. “I went through it, I really didn't. I swear.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Does he know about David, then?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’ve not heard any thoughts. But then, I haven't seen him for some weeks, either.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been out of the country.”
“Why?”
“Needed to get away.”
“From what?”
“From the temptation to come back here to you.” He smiled. “You do realise I'm destroying David and Morgaine’s little conspiracy right now as well.”
“Their what?”
“Conspiracy,” he said, as if it was yesterday’s news. “They know about the dagger, and for some reason, haven't told you.”
“How do they know about it?”
“I stole a page from a book Arthur was reading and posted it to David, signed by ‘anonymous’.”
“So, what, you think they’re looking for the dagger, too?”
“I’d bet my life on it.” He folded his arms, looking a little smug.
“Does Mike know about it?”
“Nope.”
“How do you know he doesn't know?”
“Because Arthur hasn’t been taken for torture and questioning yet.” He laughed. “If Mike knew there was a dagger Drake planned to use on your child, what do you think he’d do to Arthur?”
I nodded, pushing my tongue into my cheek. “Good point. So, it’s just David and Morg then?”
“Far as I know.”
“Not Emily?”
He shook his head.
Good. At least I still had one friend who was on my side.
“Uh.” Jason cleared his throat, holding up two fingers and a cute grin.
“Did you just read my mind?”
He shrugged. “A little.”
“Don't do that. Figure me out some other way. Stay out of my head.”
“Fine. Easy. I can figure you out by watching your face.” He sat back, smiling. “What I can't figure out is why Morg and David are sticking to this prophecy child thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven't caught on?”
I scratched my nose. “I didn't know there was anything to catch.”
“No, of course you didn't, sweet girl, because you trust David too much for your own good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, think about it. If the whole point of David being dead is to stop Drake coming after you, because the prophecy child must be conceived only with a firstborn son of Knight, then why do they think it’s okay for Arthur to be here, and not David?”
“I…”
“Exactly,” he said. “David could return, and there is still the same chance of Drake attacking as there is without David. I don't know why he’s pretending to be dead still?”
“I…I don't know. Maybe so he can follow Arthur—perhaps Arthur will lead him to the dagger.”
“But David isn’t following Arthur.” Jason ushered around the grounds. “So, what are they up to?”
“I know he’s sneaking around Elysium and giving us info on Drake’s whereabouts.”
Jason shook his head again, the smug grin growing. “Nope. Wrong again. Mike has a vampire informant—one who lives at Elysium.”
“He does?”
“Uh-hu.”
“Then…why’s David putting me through this—making me live without him?”
“I'm not sure. But, whatever it is, it must be pretty serious to be keeping him from you.”
I slumped back, running everything over in my head. “So, Drake wanted to kill me because of some prophecy child that could kill him, but now, all of a sudden, it’s that he wants me to have this child so he can steal its powers?”
“That’s the latest.”
I thought about that for a second. “That doesn't really fit. He ordered me dead—”
“No, the council ordered you dead because Drake swore death to all Lilithians.”
“So, he didn't really want me dead?”
“Nope.”
The frown on my face deepened, disappearing with a sudden realisation. “Is that why Drake put you in charge of my torture—because he knew you wouldn't really kill me?”
“Maybe.” He smirked. “I have a funny feeling Drake may have had his own agenda this entire time—perhaps one not even a high councilman like my uncle was aware of.”
“So…wow. This goes so much deeper than I thought. I can't even begin to piece it together.”
“Oh, trust me, I know. I've been trying. The only things I can deduce are that Arthur is here on Drake’s request but has an agenda of his own, and I believe Drake actually thinks David's dead—”
“And that, what, there’s no hope of a prophecy child?”
“I don't know. Drake wants your child. He doesn’t seem too concerned about which Knight it comes from.”
“Really?”
“Yep. But, you have to realise that, no matter who the father is, Ara, that child will be born of immortal blood. She will be very powerful.”
“So, do you think he made the prophecy up—just to make me have a baby that he could kidnap and kill to steal powers from?”
“Possibly. He may have even forged prophetic parchments to throw the Lilithians off his true plan all these centuries.”
“And that’s his only plan—just to kill an infant?”
“I don't know. There could be more to it. It seems like a great length to go to just for a bit of extra power. I…” He tapped his head. “I keep going round in circles with it—even storyboarded it and couldn’t figure it out. He's a master of strategy and deception.”
“Okay, so let’s focus on the facts. One; Arthur is here for the dagger—on Drake's request, but we don't think he plans to hand it over?”
“Yes, but if it’s true that the child can restore life to those who are immortal, then Drake would gain that power by killing your child, and it’s possible that’s what he offered Arthur in exchange.”
“Would Arthur give up his own flesh and blood for his freedom? Does he want it that bad?”
“I hope not.”
I went quiet. “I feel really unsteady now, Jase.”
“Why?”
“I don't know who to trust.”
“Trust me.”
“So…you're staying, then?”
He smiled down at me, gently brushing my hair back behind my ear, and I felt the closeness between us, the heat from his body alongside mine, barely two inches away. “Of course I am. Not only will it be impossible for me to leave you now, but the fact that Morgaine, who’s known about this dagger since the day after you were rescued, hasn’t told you, indicates there are several different agendas in effect here.”
“And you’re going to help me figure it all out?”
“Of course.”
“How?”
“We need to devise our own plan—draw out some of the motives of others.”
“How do we do that?”
“By redesigning the board at every move. We’ve got to analyse first, then discuss. We’ll figure things out as we go. But, to start with, I want to see what Mike knows.”
“Mm, yeah, I don't see him having a sit-down chat and cuppa with you, Jase.”
“I’ll read his mind.” He laughed. “It’s best not to raise suspicions by asking questions, anyway. We also need to know what Morgaine is hiding, and if David’s in on it or not. And we need to find that dagger.”
“Arthur probably has it.”
“Oh, without a doubt. But I need you to find it.”
“Why?”
“So I can destroy it.”
“And then what? What about Drake?”
“We have to find a way to kill him.”
“Venom?”
“Nope. He’d be immune now.”
“My electricity?” I held my hand up and let a flash of blue spark my fingertips.
Jason grabbed it, smiling in wonder. “That’s amazing. Have you studied the full extent of this power yet?”
“Mike puts me in a metal cage and makes me shoot things with it, but I get headaches when I do.”
His whole face screwed up. “A metal cage?”
“Yeah, just so that I don't shoot anyone unintentionally.”
“You're not a goddamn Tesla Coil.”
“A what?”
“Never mind.” He frowned, looking away. “Does Arthur know Mike’s doing that to you?”
I nodded.
“Asshole.”
“Who? Arthur?”
“Yes. He didn't tell me. He didn't even tell me you had that power.”
“Hm. Weird. I wonder why.”
“Probably because he knew what I’d say.”
“What would that be?”
“Well, for starters, I would have been on the first plane back here, and when I found out they were forcing you to shoot things, I’d have shut Mike in a cage and made him run on a spinning wheel for ten hours, like a lab-born hamster.” His voice got gradually louder. “That’s just plain stupidity. I can't believe he did that. He knows nothing about science. Nothing! He could have really hurt you.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“We need to be studying your powers, Ara, not forcing you to use them as a weapon. Those headaches could be serious. You might not be able to die that easily, but you can get brain damage.”
“I can?”
“Yes. I'm not sure if it would be permanent, but being in that state, even for a few months, would be horrible for you—and for your people.”
I twiddled my fingers in my lap. “What if he’s right, though? What if I do need to be exercising this power?”
“Then we’ll find another way—a kinder way.” He moved my hands apart and stole one, looking carefully at my fingertips and nails. “So, the light—it just shoots up out of your skin?”
I nodded, closing my eyes; his tickly touch felt so soothing, kind of relaxing.
“And how often do you get these headaches?”
“Pretty much every time now.” Except when I have sex.
“What’s sex got to do with it?”
My eyes flung open. “Huh?”
“Ara, I read your mind. What has sex got to do with it?”
“Oh, um. I light up when I have sex, and I can read David's mind when I get…”
“Turned on?”
I nodded, feeling the pulse of extra heat in my cheeks.
He stared down at my hand, his eyes small with thought. “That’s just…that is fascinating on so many levels.”
“Yeah, but, it’s also bad, because if I shoot anyone with it, like, if I accidently shoot vampires, they feel their hearts beat for a second.”
He folded his fingers firmly around mine and pressed my hand to his chest. “Do it to me. Shoot me.”
“No way.” I drew my hand back. “I nearly killed Falcon when he was human.”
“I don't care.” He took my hand again. “Shoot me. I want to see what it does.”
“Forget it.” I looked into his green eyes, watching the morning shadows of leaves dance across his nose and cheekbones. “If I shoot you with it, I’ll have a headache for the rest of the day, and I'm really too stressed to deal with that as well right now.”
“Okay.” He patted my hand, keeping it against his heart for a second, then dropped it into his lap. “Maybe we’ll work on it another day.”
I closed my eyes around the deep, smooth tone of his voice, feeling it melt through me; it was so different to David's—softer, kinder almost, like he’d never say a harsh word or speak ill of anyone else. “God, it is sooo good to hear your voice again.”
“It’s so good to touch you again.” He squeezed my hand. “And even sweeter that we’re here, in our field, awake.”
I opened my eyes and looked up at our tree. “It doesn't feel that different.”
He placed his thumb to my chin and tilted my face up to his, then gently and so sweetly pressed his lips to mine. I let him do it; let him stay there for the single breath we both took through our noses, before he pulled slowly away, staying right in front of my mouth. “Does that feel different?”
