Authors: A. M. Hudson
Tags: #a m hudson, #vampires, #series, #paranormal romance, #vampire romance, #fiction fantasy epic, #dark secrets series, #depression, #knight fever
“
If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop
laughing.”
“
Why?” I said, laughing louder.
“
Because as soon as the Council decides you’ve lost your mind,
they will transfer you to the lab.”
“
The lab?” I rolled my shoulder, heaving with giggles.
“Vampires have a lab?”
He looked like
an agitated kitty, tired of the string, about to attack the hand.
“The lab, Ara—” he grabbed my face in one hand; I stopped laughing,
“—is a white room, steel bed, no clothes, strapped down, several
men towering over your conscious body, cutting, probing, removing
organs.”
I gasped, the
air catching my dry throat, making me cough again.
He released my
cheeks. “You think what I’ve done is brutal—wait until you’re
transferred to the upper council and their scientists, Ara. You
won’t know suffering until you’ve spent an hour with them.”
I swallowed.
“Why do they need to do that—you’re already conducting tests?”
He ditched a
tool on the table beside my chair. “These medieval experiments
don’t tell us much. They need a full examination.”
“
Examination?”
“
Yes.”
“
Will I be dead?”
“
No.” He pressed a straw to my mouth, but I couldn’t
sip.
“
Ara, drink.”
“
No.”
“
Drink.”
“
No.”
The cup came
away and he shook his head as the light on the camera went from the
red I hadn’t noticed, back to green. “You are your own worst enemy,
Miss Thompson.”
“
Kill me?”
“
If I do that, I will sit where you do.”
“
God!” I huffed, feeling giggles rise again. “This is so
fucked up.”
“
Language please, Ara.”
“
Oh, right, sorry, Dad. Didn’t realise my manners were
relevant in this situation.”
“
Manners always are.”
“
Good, then,
please
, will you release me so I
don’t have to be cut open and pulled apart while still
breathing?”
His phone
buzzed. He lifted it only an inch from his pocket then sighed.
“Come on.”
“
What are you doing?”
Looking up
from cuffing my feet, he said, “We should’ve had most of this done
by now. I have to hurry.”
“
Will they let you keep me if you haven’t finished the
tests?”
“
No.” He stood again with his arms folded. “Did you really not
know?”
“
Know what?”
“
What you are.”
I shook my head.
David didn’t
either.
“
I’m not surprised. You don’t taste or smell any different to
a human, and you
clearly
don’t have any powers yet.”
We stared at
each other for an intense, wordless breath, then, he drew back with
a sigh and reached out to the table, grabbing a black, rectangle
clipboard. “Now—” he flipped the paper, “—next on the list is…”
I waited, my
breath warm in my stomach, my chin itching from blood, and my eye
stinging where sweat dripped from my brow. “Jase?”
“
What?” He looked up from his notes.
“
Can you…can you please scratch my eyebrow. It’s really
itchy.”
His eyes
narrowed; he scratched his head then slowly reached across and
eased my itchy spot—exactly where I wanted him to.
Oh, blissful
mind readers.
He chuckled,
then sobered. “Okay, regeneration time.”
“
Re-what?”
“
I need to see how long it takes you to heal cuts.”
“
Heal cuts?”
“
Yes.” He placed the clipboard on the table again. “You’re a
vampire, Ara, you heal fast. Well—” he tilted his head and looked
at my eye, then my gaping lip, “—not so fast now, because you’ve
had no blood or food for thirteen days. But if you were full
strength, you wouldn’t have even bruised.”
“
How long will I take to heal?” I asked in a pathetically
high-pitched voice.
“
Well, that’s what we need to investigate, silly.” He
materialised beside me, spinning a pair of scissors around his
fingertip. “A clean cut, unlike that one—” he nodded to my lip,
“—should take a few seconds. But, weakened, the Lilithian body can
take up to a few days—even weeks to heal.”
“
What are you going to do with those?”
“
Relax.” He walked to my feet. “These are just to cut some of
this fabric off you.”
“
No,” I cried as he grabbed the lace and made a hole with the
tip of the scissors.
No. Not my dress. Not
my beautiful dress.
My chest sunk as he
cut the entire base away and left my legs, from an inch below my
underwear, exposed—the dress crumpled at an odd angle where he had
to reach beneath me to cut the underside away.
“
Sorry to tell you this, but there will be nothing left of it
after the High Council finish with you, and—” he dropped the fabric
to the floor, “—you won’t be needing it at all when Drake comes for
you.”
Please kill me
before then.
Jason smiled
and patted my leg. “Don’t worry, I’ve been granted approval to
attend the examinations. I’ll be there to hold your hand.”
“
You’re sick.” My lip curled.
“
I know. Now—” He tapped his chin and cast his eyes to the
four corners of the tool table, his face masked with indecision.
“Ah, here we go.” He held up a small, steel instrument; “Scalpel.
Sharp, precise, easy to hold.” He flipped it in the air and caught
in his hand again, then fingered the top of my thigh. “Ever seen a
muscle get cut open?” he asked, looking at me as if we were
discussing a cooking show.
I shook my
head, my leg tensed where his hands rested.
“
It just splits; the muscle folds the wound out, makes it
larger as you scale along with the blade—a bit like a zipper on an
overstuffed duffle bag. Fascinating stuff,” he mused. “Perhaps I
should’ve studied medicine instead.”
“
What did you study?” I asked, possibly trying to distract
him—or maybe half-crazed with delirium.
“
Now, now, little princess,” he shook his head, wagging his
finger. “No using that psycho-babble bullshit on me. It’s time to
cut—” his eyes widened, “—then we can talk.”
“
Jason don—” A low, gurgling howl escaped the deepest pit of
my vocal chords as the blade pressed my flesh, making it sink,
holding fast and tight until his elbow rolled and drove the blade
downward, popping through the flesh with a wet release.
Everything grew louder and burst out around me, like the
reaching wave of a fiery explosion. I held my breath, too shocked
to scream or cry; my hands, in my mind, stretching down to surround
the pain. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t get my arms from the cuffs
to do
anything
.
The explosion surged, white noise going static until it
sucked back in, silence hovering before the dry ache of heat melted
out around the cut, crawling whitewash after a receding wave. As if
I had a sticker placed on that one spot, my thoughts focused, ultra
aware of what I could actually
feel
was a sideways gash.
A smooth
scream split the air, and my arm shook under the iron hold of the
cuff—my body shutting down—blocking all sound, all breath, all
feeling, except the shooting heat of agony up the bone in my leg.
Make it stop. Please just get it out. Get the knife out! Oh God.
Please. Where are they; where are the men who rush in like white
knights and save the day? Why won’t they save me, why won’t anyone
come?
My wet eyes
opened and fluttered rapidly, trying to focus on anything—the smell
of blood, the cold in my fingertips, but everything was so black
and empty.
I can’t breathe, can’t break my
goddamn
hands free. My wrists gashed
deeper under the fight.
“
Just breathe,” Jason said calmly, his hand somewhere on my
leg—making the blood pulse up under his touch.
“
Ah!” I screamed again, the pitch so high and so smooth it
sounded like ice-cream would, if it were a sound.
“
Hm,” he added, his tone flooding with confusion.
I tapped my
foot, making my body rock, rolling my head backward as the arch of
my spine lifted my neck off the chair. “I can’t take the pain.” His
fingers tightened on my leg. “Stop it. Don’t! That hurts.”
“
Shut up,” he growled. “I’m pinning it together. It should
show signs of healing by now.”
“
It won’t. It can’t—I’m not Lilithian. I’m not a vampire.” My
eyes shut tighter.
“
Shh,” Jason said and appeared by my face—releasing my aching
leg; the muscle warped under the sudden change in pressure and cool
air brushed the gaping cleft as it tore back open again.
“
Ah! Oh God, it hurts. It hurts.”
“
Shh, stop screaming.”
“
I can’t.” I rolled my chin to my chest with each coughing
gasp. My eyes stayed tightly fused together, blocking out
everything but the pain.
“
You can and you will. This is normal, Ara. It will heal—it’s
just your first time, but it
will
heal. The incision is only two inches
long.”
It felt so
much bigger, like a great, gaping slash along my entire thigh. My
throat continued to whimper as I closed my mouth and nodded my
head, trying to stretch out the tight crumple in my brow, but
unable to.
I watched the
darkness behind my eyelids and concentrated my thoughts on Jason’s
hand above my brow—warm and yet cold, soft, almost caring. “That’s
it.” Jason lifted his hand and pressed it to my brow again, gently
stroking my hair back, bumping the ruby stones Emily placed in my
plaits. “That’s it. Settle now—you’re okay.”
My chest caved
with each deep breath and slowly, as the sear in my leg fizzled
like warm water over cold fingers, the pain eased, from my ankle to
my knee, leaving a pulsing niggle in a ring around my thigh.
“
Jason,” I whispered—it was barely audible.
“
Yes.” He leaned closer, placing his ear to my
lips.
My lashes
swept against his hair. “Does? David. Know. Where. I am?”
He stood up
and smiled; a sparkle in the corners of his eyes reminded me of the
way David smiled when he was being cheeky. “Yes. He does—and he
knows what will happen to you.”
My heart died.
“What are they doing to him?”
“
He’s being tortured. As we speak. Do you remember learning
about the Judas Cradle?”
I rolled my
face away; the images of my sweet David being hurt consumed my will
to go on. “I...I don’t know.”
“
Probably just as well. Not pretty. From what I’ve been told
though, my brother takes his punishments like a true warrior. Not
like you.”
“
I’m not a warrior.”
“
No. You’re not. You’re a weapon.”
“
And David is your brother. You let them have your own
brother.” Each word came as a hiccup.
“
Yes, and you are effectively my sister, now—hasn’t stopped me
from hurting you.”
I tried to
swallow a hard, dry lump of spit and caking blood, wincing as it
stuck against my tonsils. “Why would you want him dead so
badly?”
“
I hate him.”
“
Was it—” I coughed to clear the mafia boss from my throat.
“Was it really because of Rochelle?”
Jason
stiffened and folded his arms. “You can never understand.”
“
I can.” I swallowed again, this time, the lump shifted and
lubricated my throat a little. I licked a dry ball of dirt from the
copper-tasting slash on my lip. “I really can. Please—we were
friends once. You know how I felt about you, right?” My eyes held a
plea. “You know I was—” I bit my tongue. He doesn’t deserve to hear
those words.
“
Say it,” he said through his teeth.
I shook my
head, shutting my eyes.
“
Say it.”
“
I was—” I opened my eyes, “—I was in love with you.” The last
words came out as a whisper.
The bulge
under Jason’s jaw shifted down his throat as he looked away from
me.
I lost myself
in the memory of our time together; his touch seemed so real, the
way he looked at me; his soft eyes, kind and full of heart. He had
stroked my hair and laughed with me, whispered all his secrets. How
could he have been lying all that time?
I think that’s
what hurts the most—the lies. The betrayal. “I just don’t
understand. What did I do to you—what did I do so wrong that made
you want to hurt me like this?”
He shot
forward and gripped my cheeks between his fingers; “It’s because
you are a filthy, dangerous blood hunter. And I will see every last
one of you eviscerated and driven to extinction.” He smacked my
head back down with a jolt.
“
But I’m just a girl, Jason. I didn’t know,” I
sobbed.
Jason’s face softened and he stroked my cheek delicately. “I
know you are. I know you would never hurt anyone. But these are the
laws—and the laws
must
be followed.” He spoke louder, waving his hand around. “Just
ask my brother—he
loves
his laws. Why, if he were here right now, he
might even be the one
doing
the tests. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first
time.”