The Knight Of The Rose (37 page)

Jason turned quickly, a frown pulling at his brow. “Is that so? Then, perhaps, if you believe

that, you will allow me to illuminate the obviously very shro uded history of the one you so

unconditionally love.” When he reached for me with the speed of a slap, I cowered to the grass and

shielded my cheek. He shoved my hand away and pulled me to sit by the tight grip on each side of

my face.

“What’re you doing?” My voice shook.

“Blessing you with the gift of insight.” With his fingert ips holding my chin tightly, he

wrapped his other hand behind my neck; I pushed against his wrists with my forearms, merely

forcing him to grip tighter.

“No. I don’t want you touch me.”

“You don’t have a say.” He laughed incredulously.

In the distance, a familiar voice echoed off the rock-surrounds of the valley—trailing

away—calling my name. My heart started again, filling with hope, but it was chased with a sorrow

so deep my stomach swallowed the former.

Dad? I think that’s my dad.

“Are you ready for this, Ara?” Jason rested his thumbs under my eyes, holding me in place;

his stern tone and the indentation of his grip suggested that moving might result in a cracked skull. I

held my breath. “This is going to hurt you a lot more than it will hurt me.”

“Please—don’t.” As his icy touch sent a stingi ng jolt of electricity through my cheek, my

body wriggled instinctively, like a fish on a hook, trying to shift away from the beast. “Get off me,

it hurts.” He held firmly, forcing me to feel his burning touch; it tore through my nerves, like the

thorn of a rose on the tip of a finger—jagged and shar p. “Please—” I tugged at his thumbs. “Please

stop.”

“Close your eyes,” Jason ordered with scornful compassion. “It will hurt less.”

Shaking, I scrunched my eyes tightly over the hot, stinging tears, and drew a quick breath

instantly when I saw a girl; as clear as the sun in the day. She looked li ke a memory—one that

didn’t belong to me, but visible like a reflection. She cowered in the corner of a dark room, hugging

file://C:\eBooks\the knight of the rose\tmp_10fb7585fb340176147f7cd7cde60c05_vy... 27/05/2012

her knees and whimpering int o her arms. A man towered over her for a second, then, as he

softened, he knelt beside her, and she looked up at him; David?

Jason’s grip eased. I drew a soft breath, rel axing my shoulders as the stinging in my face

turned numb and cold.

The film imprinted in my thoughts became clearer; the girl looked up—her face bloodied

and her eyes round with fright—her whole body convulsed, trembling uncontrollably as David

reached out and stroked her hair from her eyes.

Is that...Emily?

“No,” Jason’s voice came from beside me, in the memory. “Rochelle.”

David caressed the golden-brown skin on her outer thigh, lifting the fabric of her short red

dress, while she cried harder, begging him with her shaking head and pleading eyes.

“You are such a pret ty little thing, Rochelle.” He cupped her chi n. “Do not worry. I wi ll

erase this from your mind when I finish with you.”

“Don’t you touch me!” Her face folded into a scowl.

“Touch you?” David smiled and stroked her cheek as if she wer e his girlfriend. “I’m going

to do more than touch you.”

“Morire il male e‘,” she muttered, then spat on him.

“You dirty little whore!” David’s hand flew up, slamming back down into her chin with lip-

splitting force.

I squealed, covering my mouth as she did.

“Shh.” Jason squeezed my face a little tighter. “You will give our position away to your little

hunting party.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Just watch.” He pushed my mind closer to the memory; David lowered his face to the girl’s

and whispered something in her ear. I adjusted my hearing to the statically muffled audio only just

enough to make out what he said.

“He loves you, Rochelle. He wants you to be like him.” He touched her face gently—like
my

David would. “He asked me to change you.”

“I
never
asked him to do that,” Jason said.

My chest tightened while my mind became lost in the intensity of the projection.

“David—is that your name?” The girl sat up a little from her crouched position. “Please,

David. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“Do you not love him?” David asked, perplexed.

“He knows I love him. But I—”

“Then, there is nothing else. Now. Make this easy on me, Rochelle. Do not struggle—it will

only make it hurt more.” He cover ed her mouth, gripping her with aggressive intensity as she tried

to scream.

“Please?” she shrieked, pulling his hand free of her lips for a breath. “Please, don’t, David,

I’m p—”

The blunt force he shook her with made her teeth strike togeth er in her mouth, and a fine

bleed of red seeped out between his fi ngers. “Shh.” He calmly reposit ioned his hand; her tears

flooded over David’s fingers and melted into the blood and sweat underneath. “Hush now, it will all

be over soon.”

My stomach dropped, watching David cradle her spine to his chest and meticulously roll her

head to one side—exposing her vein to his lips.

“David, no!” my squeal broke off as he sank his teeth in. I covered my face, trying to hide

from the horrible fate of this girl.

“No. You must see.”

“Please, no, Jason. Please don’t make me watch.”

He ripped my hands from my face. “You
will
watch.”

As I looked back into the memory, David looked up; his eyes met mine—disturbing the core

of my soul with the ferocity behind them—teari ng out my ever y ill-conceived notion that he was

once human inside. The blood dripped from his lips, pooling under his chin—staining the

collar of his victim while pleasure radiated from his smile.

I sobbed loudly, watching her fal l limp in his arms, her last breath drawing through her lips

as she whispered softly, “David?” He moved his ear closer. “I’m pregnant.”

I drew back, frozen, unable t o move; my heart pounded in my ches t as the realisation of the

loss that coul d never be retrieved f looded my angry heart—bringing a cas cade of tear s over my

cheeks. Rochelle faded.

David dropped her lifeless corpse to the floor—letting her head hit th e ground, making her

neck twist awkwardly as she fell—then stood up and walked away.

His heavy bl ack boots were the last thing I saw in the memory before everything t urned

black. Reality washed back like cold water on my face—making me ju mp inside as if I’d just

woken from a nightmare. “Jason,” I cried through deep, breathless sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

All I could see was her face as she tri ed to beg David, heartless, merciless and unrelenting

David, for her life.

On my knees, I rolled forward, my trembling hands rooting to the moist grass to hold me up,

while my soft curls stuck to the tears along my jaw. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t beli eve what I’d

just seen. How could he? How could that have been my David?

“Why? Why didn’t she change?” I asked.

Jason wrapped his arms around his knees and crossed his ankles wher e he sat on the grass

beside me. “She carried another soul inside her.”

“The baby?”

He nodded once. “You can only immortalise one soul, or they will both die.”

“He didn’t know—he didn’t know she was pregnant?”

“He
claims
he didn’t know the dif ference in the scent, since he’d never met Rochell e

before.”

“You loved her?”

His grip around his knees tightened. “She was
everything
to me; fifty years has passed, and

that has not changed.”

“But…now you’re planning to do the same thing to David. Don’t you know what I am t o

him?” He studied my face with repugnance. “Yes, and I will take that from him.”

My head rocked from side to side in astonished, intensely maddening disbelief. My David.

He did that? I can’t believe he’s capable of such horror. “I know it means nothing to you, Jason,

but…I am so,
so
sorry,” I whispered with a focused, watery stare.

Jason opened his mouth to speak, then st opped, clenching his teeth and twis ting his mouth

up into a contorted grimace. “It changes nothing. Now you know why you must die, and I shall not

make it as quick for you as it was for her. I will hurt him, by hurting you. It’s the only way.”

“Ara?”

I looked up to the sound of that voice; Mike—he was close—so close that if I dared to

scream, he’d find me.

Without warning, Jason lifted me from the wet grass. All the bl ood rushed into a tight pulse

in my cheeks as he threw me over his shoulder, leaving only the whipping breeze as evidence to the

ground moving beneath us. I didn’t care if he took me away. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. All I

could see were Rochelle’s eyes in her last moments—the fear, the loss, the desperation for her life,

and that of her unborn child. I hung limply over my captor—all fight within me lost to the pain of

truth. David? How could you?

We broke through into a clearing, and a dens e, shadowy dark-ness overtook. The only light

around was a thousand twinkling stars in the sky, and the distant glow of the Masquerade, pink, like

the last drop of sunlight on the horizon.

Jason set me down on the long grass, and my bare toes sunk into t he dewy soil. My shoes

must have fallen off somewhere while we were running—I didn’t even no tice. The voices of the

hunters—the ones searching for me—were as faint behind the height of the towering trees around us

as the soft, magical music of the ball.

They’ll never find me.

“They
will
find you.” Jason’s voice came fr om beside me in the darkness. “Do not worry,

Ara, I will make sure that he finds you. However, it will not be in the fine state of which he lost

you.”

“Please, Jason. Don’t do this,” I pleaded, stepping away from him with one hand over my

chest where my silver locket used to fall, and the other held out straight—warding him away. “Just

think about it for a second.”

He laughed lightly. “Ara-Rose. I
have
thought about it—for a very long time.” He appeared

in front of me. “I know exactly what I’m going to do to you.”

I swallowed, feeling grateful that the dark had stolen my s ight. If I’d been able to see the

intent behind the smile I heard in his voice, I was afraid my skin might have fallen from my limbs.

“Why do you say things like that, and then do nothing to hurt me? You could’ve killed me by

now—what are you playing at?”

He stepped forward, and even though I could see nothing but the very tops of the trees, miles

high into the sky, I could just make out the shadows around his cheekbones, making his eyes seem

like hollow, yawning caves. “Because, that’s just the point, Ara,” he said, “I’m a vampire—we like

to play with our food.”

Unsure if I should protect my face or curl into a ball, I twitched like a person wearing a

blindfold when he grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. Suddenly, the shadows of his eyes became

more menacing—proving the existence of nightmares, while the scent of his orange-chocolat e

cologne—just like David’s—made my heart skip out of the dream it had once put me in. “I—I can’t

see you properly.” I reached a cautious hand out, trying to gauge the proximity. “Don’t grab me like

that when I can’t see you.”

“Brave little thing, aren’t you? To speak to your reaper with such contempt.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Oh, my dear,” his voice held all the malice of his intentions. “If you only knew the things I

have planned for you—the tortures I’ve deliberated for
fifty
years—the deranged cruelties I’ve been

dreaming up every time I had to look at my brother, every time I had to watch him with you—being

happy with you. He never deserved happiness, and I’m going to take my time stealing it from him.”

“Then I’ll make sure I don’t show any fear—just to ruin all your fun.”

“You can try.”

Something exchanged between us then, a kind of knowing that came from being familiar; it

was as if I could see every thought beyond the darkness of his eyes. He wanted to do something t o

me then, what, I didn’t know, but it made me suddenly not so sure of myself.

I wanted to pull away from his cold, moist breath when he moved cl oser and spoke against

my brow, but I didn’t feel I had the right. “ Your skin is so soft—like a rose petal.” But the softness

turned to tight bumps when he slid his unwelcome fingers down the side of my throat, then pushed

me away, leaving me breathless, covering my chest as he walked behind me. I stayed sti ll, so still.

“And your hair is as warm as the trees in the hot summer sun.” I felt the soft tickle of my hair on my

back as the vampire lifted it and took a deep breath through his nose. “You smell so pretty, did you

know that?”

I nodded, closing my eyes, feeling my shaky breath brush warmly across my tear-st ained

lips. When I licked them, the salty flavour of fear made my mouth water.

“This is easier than I thought,” he said.

“What is?”

“Killing you.”

My crossed arms tightened over my chest.

“I was sure your beautiful face would for ce compassion within me, but—” he shook his