Mark of Betrayal (78 page)

Arthur pushed me back down. “On the condition he stays until you’ve conceived a child—an heir.”

“
But, I don't want that. I don't want him to die…”

Arthur smiled, his eyes betraying a deeper plan. “Ever heard of a turkey baster?”

“
A what?”

“
We can create a child in the artificial method.” He cleared his throat. “As if I were merely a donor.”

“
Whoa. You wanna put your….”

“
Seed.”

“
Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “…Into a turkey baster, and….”

“
Precisely.” He held back laughter. “You can be alone when you do this, and there is no need for me to hurt you by touching you that way. Then, as per our previous plan, I will become king by rights, and I will take to kill Drake.”

“
And David doesn’t know this bit?”

“
No. But when he learns the child is not his, we may have a hard time convincing him I’d not touched you.”

I nodded. “And then what? Will he hate me?”

“
For a while, I'm certain of it.”

I covered my mouth.

“
He feels strongly about infidelity, my dear—so strongly, in fact, that after Arietta was murdered, I suspected David had killed her. He never approved of Arietta betraying Victor.”

“
He didn’t kill her though, right?” I held my breath.

“
I hope not.” Arthur patted my hand. “Just be prepared when he learns the child is not his. He will be bitter for a while, but he will come to see that you were not unfaithful, and hope for your future will not be lost entirely.”

“
When should we, um—?”

“
Not today.” He grinned. “You need to rest.”

“
So, do we need to stop the coronation?”

“
No. Go ahead with it. If I father the child, I will reign higher than David anyway.”

“
Hey,” Jase said, rapping on my door as he opened it.

“
Hey. Did you eat?”

He nodded and walked in humbly. “Yeah. All good now.”

Both Arthur and Jason remained quiet for a second, looking at each other, until Jason nodded and Arthur stood. “Well, my dear, I shall leave you in Jason’s capable hands. I have a few things to take care of.”

“
Okay, thanks, Arthur.”

He leaned down and kissed my brow. “Be safe.”

I smiled at him as he walked away; he stopped by Jason, cupped his shoulder firmly and gave him a reassuring smile.

“
Of course, Uncle,” Jase said, nodding, and Arthur left.

“
And then there was one,” I said.

He appeared on the chair where David was when I woke up. “You scared the
hell
out of me.”

“
Sorry.”

“
I nearly killed him, you know.” He stared at the ground between his legs. “I thought he’d—” He paused. “I thought he did that to you.”

“
David?” I exclaimed. “He’d never hurt me.”

Jason shook his head, his gaze distant.

“
I'm really sorry.” I reached for his hand. “I can’t say it won’t happen again, because I don't know how it happened.”

“
No, it’s safe to say it won’t happen again.” He squeezed my hand. “
That
I can promise.”

“
Oh yeah,” I challenged, with a grin. “And what are you going to do, sleep on the end of my bed?”

“
The thought crossed my mind.”

“
I don't think David would approve of that.”

“
He can bite me.”

I laughed aloud, throwing my head back. “He just might do that.”

“
No, he’d get more joy out of torturing me by touching you.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
I mean, he’s only too aware that every time he kisses you, strokes your hair, sends me away, tells me I need to leave you to rest, it kills me—it
kills
me that he gets to make that decision.”

“
He’s my husband.”

“
That doesn't mean I don't love you.”

“
Brother.” David stood in the doorway, his eyes dark, his shoulders so straight I almost didn't recognise him as my husband.

Jason stood up. “David. Impeccable timing.”

“
Yes, perfect, I’d say.” He walked slowly into the room. “I don't know what you think is acceptable, brother, but confessing any feelings toward my wife is crossing the line.”

“
Of course.” Jason bowed his head, turned back and smiled softly at me, then left, offering David a scowl as he passed.

“
David?” I said, slapping the covers.

He dropped his shoulders, a smile breaking out across his stone mask. “Did you see the look on his face?”

“
Yes. That was mean.”

He sprung up on the bed, letting his human weight jiggle it a bit, and wrapped both arms around me, sweeping me into his chest. “I know. But it was funny.”

“
I don't think
he
found it funny.”

“
I didn't find it very funny that he was sitting by your bed, confessing his love for you.”

“
Oh, come on, David. You know how he feels.”

“
Yes,” he said into my brow, kissing me after. “And I know you are too careful of people’s emotions to tell him that’s inappropriate.”

“
I do tell him that.”

He kissed my head again. “I'm sure you do.”

“
What’s that supposed to mean?” I sat up a little, wincing at the dull ache in my hip.

“
I mean—” He rolled me onto my back and lifted my top, his face hovering just above my waist. “I don't believe his affections are one-sided.”

My heart stopped. “Why would you think that?”

He smiled down at my skin, tracing a line over it. “Perhaps I know you better than you think.”

“
Ouch.” I rolled up a little and looked down. “Why did you pinch me?”

“
Did you ever suffer from eczema as a child?”

I frowned, thinking. “Yes. When Mum used certain laundry detergents.”

He nodded. “I might go speak to housekeeping.”

“
Why?”

“
You have a mild rash coming up.” He lifted my top a little more, showing the red, raised rash on my hip, just below my underwear.

I placed my fingertips to it; it was hot. “Do immortals get eczema?”

He laughed, pulling my top back down. “Guess they do.”

“
It’s itchy.”

“
It’s only itchy because you know it’s there. It wasn't bothering you a second ago.”

“
It hurt a second ago.”

“
No.” He sat back on the pillows, his arms behind his head. “That was your bone. Your hip was completely shattered, Ara. You’re still healing.”

“
Ouch.” I rubbed my hip. “So, who fixed me up?”

“
Arthur, Morgaine and I.”

“
What did you do—just pour blood down my throat?”

“
We actually administered it intravenously. We had to stitch you up, too. You just kept bleeding everywhere once we got your heart started again.”

“
It stopped?”

His chest sunk, his belly no longer moving with his gentle breath. “You were dead, my love. Completely dead. Your soul left your body.”

“
Really?” I sat up, crossing my legs under me.

He nodded. “And we learned something new about your kind from that.”

“
What?”

“
That you can not only die from having your head chopped off and kept off, nor just from having your heart removed, but if your soul leaves your body—even if it’s perfectly intact, you will slowly decompose and become, essentially, dead.”

“
Like, until my soul goes back in my body or something?”

“
Right. See, if your body is taken apart, your soul cannot re-enter, but, you, my love, have this magic talent where you can choose to leave your body—almost like your soul isn't tethered to this form. But if you stay out too long, you die.”

“
And, if I did die from staying out too long, can I ever go back in my body?”

He swallowed. “I'm not sure.”

“
Well, how long does it take me to die?”

“
Arthur thinks it’s about twenty-four hours or so.”

“
So, how do you know my soul left my body?”

“
Because we saw it.”

“
Huh?”

“
You stood right there like some freaky ghost, haunting us.”

I looked at where he pointed to the foot of my bed. “I did?”

“
Uh-hu.” He tucked his hand back behind his head. “I actually think you can do it on command. In fact, I think you’ve done it before.”

“
What makes you think that?”

“
You always disappear from your own head. A part of me wonders if you might actually be gone—maybe you have no recollection of it when you return.”

I looked down at the backs of my hands, then my wrists and up the length of my arms. “I remember a dream I had once—where I felt my soul pull away from my own body, and when I looked back, I was watching myself sleep.”

“
Exactly.”

I nodded. “Wow. I might try to do that a little more often.”

“
No.” He grabbed my wrist, his eyes wide. “Don't. We weren’t sure you were going to come back.”

“
I’ll always come back.” I slid my wrist through his grasp until my hand fell into his. “As long as I have you to come back to.”

His fingers closed around mine. “And what if you didn't? What if, say…Drake killed me—what then?”

“
Then I’d kill myself and come after you.”

“
What if you had a child to care for—
our
child?”

I thought about that for a second. “I…”

He smiled, looking off to the wall across the room. “Good thing we don’t have to worry about that, right?”

“
Yeah,” I said shakily and laid on his chest, stuttering a little as I noticed my wedding ring—back in place. I wondered if Jason had given it to David—told him he took it off me, or if he just slipped it on when no one was looking. “Sure is,” I finished.

Emily skipped into the throne room and held up her mobile phone.

“
What?” I frowned at her.

She pointed dramatically to it, mouthing some word with a round sound between two short mm’s.

“
M…m…Mum?” I jumped up off my throne. “Is that Vicki?”

She nodded.

I waved my hands around in a criss-cross through the air.

Emily nodded.

“
No,” I whispered gruffly. “I'm not here, Em. I’ll let something slip if I talk to her.”

“
Ara,” she said through her teeth. “You need to tell them the staying in Paris plan.”

My shoulders dropped. “Fine. Give it to me.”

She placed the phone in my hand, practically jumping out of the way after.

I held it just by my ear and centred myself, taking a deep breath. “Vicki. Oh, my God, hi!”

“
Ara!” she practically yelled. “How are you? You didn't tell me Emily was on holiday over there with you. What have you been up to, when are you coming home?”

“
Uh—” I tucked my neck into my shoulders and walked back to my throne. “It turns out we’ve been having such a good time, we’ve…well, we’ve decided to stay in Paris.”

“
What!” she shrieked. “Why?”

“
David got a job, and I got accepted to university after I sat a test—even though I didn't finish high school, and—”

“
So the honeymoon to Paris that turned into a world tour, has now become permanent?” Vicki yelled down the phone. “Ara, we haven’t seen you since March. How do we even know you’re still alive? I mean, you ran out on your own wedding—” she softened her tone to a reasonable level. “Now, I understand that you realised your flight times were booked wrong, but you didn't even say goodbye, and now you're telling me you're not coming home?”

“
Vicki, I'm sorry, but David landed a great job. We’d be silly to leave now.”

“
Can’t you at least come home for a week? Just a week. I’ll pay for the ticket, and…”

“
Vicki. I can't. I'm starting school this week.”

“
But you don't even speak French.”

“
I do now—a little,” I lied.

“
Well, what does
Mike
think of this whole arrangement?”

“
He’s happy. He and Em have been keeping my house safe for me, and he made me promise to come for a holiday next month.”

“
Next month?” she asked softly.

“
Yes. I promise. But David's really happy about this job, Mum. It could mean setting us up for the future.”

“
Well, I don't like it,” she muttered.

“
I’ll be fine, Mum. David and I are happy, and I really love Paris. I’ll come home in a month, okay?”

“
You’d better.”

“
I will. So, how's dad’s conference been going?”