Mark of Betrayal (80 page)

He stopped then, and we both panted heavily, his sweetly-scented breath coming down on the bridge of my nose. “My coronation’s tomorrow,” he said, still a little puffed. “I want to make love to you now in case all the extra power affects my manhood.”

I inclined my chin so my nose brushed along his, then kissed his soft, full lips once. “I want to, David, but I can't.”

“
Can't
?” he scoffed, his voice high. “Can't what?”

I rolled out from under him and jumped off the bed. “I…I can't have sex with you.”

“
Why?” He got up, too.

“
I'm just…not really in the mood.” I looked away from his eyes, worried he’d see I was lying. In truth, I just couldn’t risk falling pregnant to him until Arthur and I had done our deed with the turkey baster.

“
Not in the mood?” He pressed the back of his hand to my brow. “Are you okay?”

I walked away and flopped back on the bed, huffing. “I'm just tired.”

“
Well—” He grabbed me from under the arms and slid me up to the pillows, cocooning me in the covers from his side of the bed. “Sleep. I’ll go take care of Court this afternoon.”

“
You can't. You haven’t been crowned.”

“
Let’s see them argue that with me,” he said with a smirk and kissed my brow, sweeping my hair back as he stood up again. “Just rest. I’ll be back up in a few hours.”

I rolled over and snuggled into the pillow, smiling. “Thanks, David.”

“
Don't mention it.” He disappeared, closing the wardrobe door a second later.

The afternoon ticked by. I laid on my bed, looking up at the dome, imagining Little Lili playing with her uncle. In my dreams of her—the labyrinth one and the Garden of Lilith one—she was different. I assumed the child with hair of gold, playing on the rope swing, was Little Lili, but Lilith’s hair was dark, like mine.

“
Sleep well?” David asked, leaning on the doorframe, his arms folded, watching me get lost in thought.

“
I dreamed of her again.”

“
Who?”

I nodded at the dome.

He appeared beside me, angling his head to touch mine as well as look up at the glass. “Lilith?”

“
Yeah. That was the third dream I’ve had about a little girl, except, this time, she was running through the passage Jason discovered.”

“
What passage?”

“
By the fireplace. I don't know—he just pushed on a few places, and a door opened in the wall.”

David appeared by the fireplace, rapping and tapping on several different spots.

“
Other side of the fireplace,” I said.

“
Oh.” He walked over and did his thing, then stopped midway down the panel and pushed. Sure enough, it popped out, and he opened it.

“
How did you find that so fast?”

“
I'm just that good.” He turned back to smile at me, holding out his hand. “Come on.”

“
Where? Down there?” I asked, flying over to stand beside him.

“
Yeah.”

“
But—” I pulled back. “I promised Jase I’d go with
him
.”

David spun around to look at me, his lip lifting over his teeth. “He’s not your husband. You don't get to make promises to him.”

“
But—”

“
Come on.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the darkness. I didn't mind, though. I kind of wanted to go exploring with David.

“
So, where do you think this leads?” I asked.

“
Maybe to the village.”

“
Seriously?”

“
Yeah. Quite often, in older buildings that housed the rich or important, they’d build these escape tunnels in case of invasion or robbery.”

“
How come no one knows it’s here?”

“
That’s the point. You can't escape out a secret passage if everyone knows you have one.”

“
But, wouldn’t they be able to tell it’s here—I mean, there’d be a gap between the end of the manor outside and where the walls end inside.”

“
You
didn't notice a gap.”

“
Touché.”

“
Besides, I suspect
all
the rooms on this end of the manor end short to allow for this passage—no one would notice a few inches if it was consistent.”

“
But, it’s not big enough to take up a whole room.” I reached out and touched both walls at the same time.

“
It doesn't.”

“
It does in Jason’s room—he only has one window, remember?”

“
Right.” He rubbed his chin. “Clever girl. I didn't think of that.”

“
Neither did I. Jase did.”

He stood taller. “Can you stop calling him that, please?”

“
What?”

“
Jase
,” he said in a mock girl’s voice. “It’s immensely irritating.”

“
Why? It’s just a name.”

“
It’s not the name I have a problem with; it’s the affectionate undertone, the big dough eyes and the way your voice softens on the end, Ara.”

“
It so does not.”

He groaned, shaking his head, and wandered down the stairs, rapping on the inside walls.

“
David?” I ran down after him.

“
Look.” He stopped and turned to face me. “I know how you are, Ara. We’ve always had to deal with this.”

“
With what?”

“
You and…other guys. You get too close. You get too caught up, and…you’re not a child anymore, my love. You just can't behave that way now.”

“
I'm trying, David.”

“
Trying isn't enough. It stops. All the flirting, all the mucking about, all the looking at other guys. From this moment on, you will not ‘hang out with’, notice, smile at or even
think
about a guy, unless it’s me.”

“
So, I can't even have guy friends, now?”

“
No.”

“
You can't tell me what to do.”

“
Yes, I can.”

“
No. You can't! You’re not the boss of me.”

“
Yes, I am.”

“
Since when?” I put my hands on my hips.

“
Since I married you. Discussion closed.” He turned away.

“
No! I'm allowed to have friends, David. And it’s twisted and sick that you would even say something like that.”

He stopped, sighing heavily. “Look, I know, okay. But I have to be more careful with you than I did with other girls, Ara. You can't keep yourself in check. You don't know how to control yourself.”

“
I do, David. Okay, maybe I'm a little closer with Jase-
on
, than I should be, but I can stop that. I can make distance between us, but you can't tell me what I can and cannot do.” I made myself a little taller. “I love you, but I won't stand for that.”

He groaned again and started down the stairs, banging around, searching for something.

“
David, are you mad at me?”

“
No,” he said in short. “If anything, I’m mad at my brother.”

“
Why?”

“
Because I don't want him to love you. I understand why he does; how can he not?” He presented me with a flat palm. “But I don't like it.”

I looked down at my feet then back up, grinning. “I can be a bitch to him, if you like. I can make him hate me.”

He laughed. “No, you couldn’t. You’re not capable of that. Just…just be careful, okay?”

I reached out, and he placed his hand in mine. “Okay. I’ll stop calling him Jase.”

He smiled to himself, but it was weak. “And, can you just…”

“
Just?” I prompted him out of his pause.

“
If I was ever…if Drake ever…” He cleared his throat.

“
David? Don't.”

“
No. I need to say this.” He put his hand up between us. “If I was ever not around for any reason, you…just…not my brother, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay. But it’s not an issue, we’re immortal.”

“
I know.”

“
So, who then?” I asked, following him down the stairs. “Hypothetically, if you ever got hit by a car and died, who would you choose for me?”

He cleared his throat again, grinning when he pushed on the wall and it gave way, revealing a door. “To be honest?”

I nodded.

“
No one. Ever.” He shoved the door open and it creaked over my shock. “Get a cat.”

I laughed nervously, squeezing his hand as we stepped into the greyish darkness of a shadowy room. The musty smell of dust dried my nostrils out, and my eyes shot straight to the boarded windows, blocking out all light, all life. The room was cold, ghostly, a bedroom clearly cut in half by the wall of Jason’s room; a doll house, a small table laid out with a tea-set, and a few other things had been shoved aside, sitting awkwardly in a cluster by the four-poster bed. Wooden stars, painted gold, hung down from hooks in the roof above it, and an old round rug, grey with dust, cradled the rail of a wooden rocking horse; its mane streaked in purples, golds and blues. On a shelf by the wall where we stood was a collection of expressionless dolls, copper-eyed bears, tiny lace gloves and other trinkets.

“
I know what this is,” David said, walking across the room.

“
A child’s bedroom?”

“
Yes,” he said, tugging a board on the window. “But not just any child—it was Lilith’s first daughter.”

My mouth dropped.

David chuckled, tossing the plank of wood aside, and light peeled into the room all around me, showing dancing motes of dust, woken from centuries of slumber or hiding. The bedcovers were still ruffled, once slept in, and right between the window and the fireplace, an old chair sat proudly, a book still open in place on the seat.

I ran my fingers over every surface, touching the detailed carvings in the foot of the bed, running my hand down the post, feeling the presence of my ancestors.

“
This room must be centuries old.”

“
I’d say so,” David muttered, nodding at the torn curtains around the bedposts, nearly worn away to nothing but silvery webs.

I reached across and plucked a small ragdoll from between the pillows, standing up again to look at her; she was loved once. But someone came in here, took away that little girl and she never saw this place again. Never outgrew her toys, never heard the end of that story—never even crawled back into bed.

“
Are you okay, Ara?” David came up beside me.

I flattened the doll’s hair and hugged her to my chest before placing her back and tucking the blanket around her. “It’s so sad. What happened here?”

“
She died.”

“
How?”

“
Some say it was losing the summer, some say it was heartache.”

I touched the torn white curtain over her bed, unthreading a web from the base. “How old was she?”

“
She would have been nine the year she died, as far as I’ve read.”

“
What was her name?”

“
Evangeline—The Rose of Winter. She was born on the first day it snowed that year, with lips red as a rose, and there was never a more loved little girl.”

“
Evangeline? Wasn't Lilith’s granddaughter named Evangeline, too—my ancestor?”

“
Something I’ve learned recently?” he said, like he was asking if I wanted to know. “None of Lilith’s children reached adulthood. Everything we’ve been taught about her is lies. I'm not sure how your bloodline survived, but I'm starting to wonder if you’re even related to Lilith.”

“
Really?”

“
Yeah.”

“
So…
this
Evangeline—” I nodded around the room, “—isn't the one I descended from?”

“
Not in the version of the story I read.”

I took a moment to combine that with the information Arthur had given me about Drake and his reasons for killing Lilith. “What broke her heart so badly—Evangeline? Why did she
lose the summer
?”

He wandered over to the rug, then bent down and picked something up, dusting it off as he stood. “Here.”

“
What is that?” I reached for it, smiling when I felt its round body, smooth and cool in my palm. “An apple?”

“
Her father Christian, Lilith’s first husband, had this preserved in gold for Eve when she had her accident. It was his way of bringing some of the outside back to a little girl who would never see it again.”

“
So, what happened?” I spun the apple between my fingers softly.

He sat down on Eve’s bed. “She liked to play in the orchards, back when we still grew apples here. But, one winter, she went down there alone and climbed the oak tree where the workers would sit for lunch, but her foot slipped. She fell.”

“
And she died?”

“
No. She was paralysed. If she’d been of age, they would have given her blood, but they were afraid it would trigger immortality and she would be trapped as a child for eternity. So, they prayed. But as the weeks passed, that vibrant, spirited little girl became a ghost, and she grew ill. She died before she saw the summer again, and I guess they locked this room off to forget.”