The Knight Of The Rose (38 page)

head, appearing by my side again, “I feel nothing for you—as if you were merely a dog who

had bitten a child. I just want to see you dead—in the worst way possible.”

Like a lover allowed to embrace his girl, he moved into me, leaving a gap only enough for

heat to travel between our bodies as his stiff, cold fingers—so like David’s touch, but not gentle—

ran over my bare arms and slowly onto my lower back, resting there against the corset backing of

my dress.

I closed my eyes and silently pleaded to the heavens.

“You are but an exceptional beauty, and you should be pr eserved as such. However, ther e

will be no glass coffin for you, my pretty.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” he said, “you won’t look so pretty once I’m done with you.”

“Oh, God.” A gust of air burst from my lips. I folded over slightly, straightening when my

cheek hit his chest. “Please—just kill me? Don’t do worse. Please?”

“Come now, we mustn’t pity ourselves. Have to be strong, now, okay?” He lifted my chin; I

nodded, sniffling softly. “Say,
Yes, Master
.”

With my eyes closed tightly, I repeated the words he ordered me to.

“Now, before I kill you, I wis h to enjoy you. Will you be good and let me have you?” His

trance-like voice filled my mind, consuming the cl arity of thought; I nodded again, screaming at

myself from somewhere deep inside. He lifted my left hand and placed it on his shoulder, pressing

his palm to my lower back as he pulled my hips closer; “Dance with me, my fair, sweet, Ara-Rose.”

My body moved with his, close, circling like two birds falling mid-flight. The feel of his suit

jacket against the skin above my dress, and the softness of his palms against mine made me wish

only that I was his—
his
girl, for
him
to touch, to love, to hold. I wanted to be a part of him—as I

once was with David.

He spun me out from his body gracefully, and I twir led back into his chest—completely

intoxicated by his spell—and complet ely aware of it, too. We swayed together in the co ol breeze,

surrounded by the trees, where no one could see us, and no one would ever find us—not until he

was finished with me.

“Beg me not to kill you,” he whispered the warmth of his breath onto the cusp of my fringe.

“Beg me, and I will show you mercy.”

“I—” My throat tightened and my eyes spilled with tears as I looked into his; he’s just like

David. But he’s going to kill me, no mat ter how much I beg, and the worst part is...it matters

none—because, as if a thread of finely-woven silk has bound us together, I am unable to resist him.

My mind was going crazy, screaming deranged thoughts; he could take me away from here,

and I would go. I wouldn’t cry or protest; I’d follow him, and I’d never be seen again.

He could kill me, and I’d be grateful to die at his hands.

“That’s not a very convincing plea for your life, Ara,” he said.

The faint blue sparkle surrounding my thoughts and clouding my eyes persisted like a

delirium that consumes an otherwis e rational mind. I smiled up at Jason, wishing we would dance

this way together, forever. “What are you doing to me, Jason? Why does nothing make sense?”

“Hush now, sweet girl. I am making this easier by allowing you to feel safe with me. It is

one of
my
many talents.”

“But I—”

“Uh-uh. I will not gift this to you if you do not hold your tongue.”

My throat fought hard for its own vocabulary—for common sense. But he smelled just like

David, and I wanted him to be David—to imagine for one last moment that I was in his arms—that I

still mattered to him.

“Close your eyes and you s hall believe it.” Jason stole the thought from my mind, just as

David used to.

“You can never be him. And you’ ll just be closer to becoming the monster he is by killing

me—” I looked deep into hi s hollow, shadowed ey es, “—but you will never have a heart like his,

and I will never give you mine.”

His eyes flashed with hatred, and the cloud of my confusio n tore away—leaving behind a

sudden rush of terror as the monster I provoked in him rose to the surface. “I don’t want your heart,

you stupid girl.” He shoved me out from his body. The air touched my feet for a second, and my

hands flailed out as I fell back, stopping with a surge of wind bl asting from my lungs. A high-

pitched shriek launched itself from my lips, and before I could even find the source of the sudden

pain I felt, I looked down and saw a smudge of blood over my fingertip.

“Ooh.” Jason shook his head, wincing. “That looks nasty.”

I pinched the bleeding tip of my finger—shaking as the pain of my detached nail pulsed with

each beat of my heart. It hurts. Oh, God, it folded all the way back.

Jason towered over me, watching on while my hand trembled like glass in an earthquake. I

tried to use my thumb to fold it back over, but every time I touched it, the nail shifted and the pain

intensified, closing in around me as if I were in a red room.

“Settle down.” Jason took my hand, straight ened my arm out to the si de—away from my

line of sight—and..

“Ah!” I screamed once, but it reduced to a tiny whimper as the pain receded. When Jason

released me, I folded over, weeping breathlessly into the grass as I looked down at the nail—back in

place. I just want to go home. I don’t want to die like this—not like this.

I struggled to push mysel f up to my knees, falling on my elbows each ti me. Jason just

watched. I couldn’t even look at his face to see if he was enjoying it. I felt pathetic and helpless, and

humiliated at my own whimpering. But I couldn’t stop it. It j ust kept coming out in bursts of self-

pity.

“Why are you crying like that?” Jason asked, grabbing my arm to help me onto my knees.

I looked at him to speak, but just couldn’t get the words out. Before, my fear had turned to

anger, but the anger t urned to devastation when r ealisation set in. He wasn’ t playing games. He

really is going to kill me. This is real. This i s no book or movie where the heroi ne is rescued. I’m

going to die here.

But the distant sound of voices gave me strength again—made my tears halt on the outskirts

of freedom as something like hope became mine . The hunt ers had gr own in number and wer e

getting closer. Maybe there will be enough of them. Maybe they’ll come in time—maybe they’ll

scare him away. I have to run to them—call to them. “Please just let me go, Jason,” I gasped

through my tears. “Please. I had nothing to do with her death—”

“But your lover did.”

“No.” Suddenly my hope ma de the fear become anger again. “David’s not to bl ame, either.

It’s
you
. If you weren’t a vampire, Rochelle would still be here.”

“You know nothing!” I felt only a shar p jolt and the sting of nerves in the back of my head

as he grasped a handful of my hair and pulled my face close to his.

“I know what you are,” I said, lifting my shoulders and arching my neck to save my hair

from coming out. “I know the things you’re capable of.”

“Then you know what I’m about to do to you.”

I tried to shake my head. “I ’m not afraid of you. You won’t hurt me. Emily told me that

you’re swee—”

“You shut your mouth, you stupid, horrible little human.” He shook me hard enough that I

heard a crispy, ripping sound as some of my hair came loose.

Don’t cry, Ara—be strong.

But it hurts so much.

I know. Just don’t cry
, I told mysel f, gripping the long grass in a tight fist. “Jason, please.”

My trembling, grass-covered fingertips reached to touch his arm. “Please don’t. I’m not the enemy.

I’m not the—”

“One does not have to deserve the misfortune they suffer.” He brought his lips to my face

once again, and I shivered with the closeness of them to my skin. “You’re a mouthy little bitch, Ara,

and I will see you suffer for his cr imes, and have you endure it more slowly now. You deserve no

kindness from me.”

“Ara-Rose!” Voices echoed off the vall ey; Jason’s grip on my hair eased until he untangled

his fingers gently from the loose remains and removed his hand.

I looked up at him, ignor ing the call of their voices. “Go ahead. Do what you want.” My

brave front returned to get me in trouble again. “It will never change the fact that Rochelle is dead—

and all it will achieve is your own pain when David takes revenge on you.”

Jason just smiled and sat beside me on the ground. “Revenge? You think he will avenge

your
death?”

“If not him—the Set will.” I wiped a streak of blood or sweat or tears from my upper lip.

“The Set? What do you know of the Set?”

“I know you can’t kill me.”

“Actually, my dear, I can. You see, the laws of our kind prevent I should be punished for the

death of a human—the unl awful changing of one to a vampire, yes—but not death.” He grinned,

seemingly pleased with his well-planned assault.

“What?” I gasped.

“I have the right to mutil ate my kill in any way I see fit—as long as I eat you. The law wi ll

not side with David this time. There is nothing he can do, and he will have an eternity to reflect on

the horrific way in which I hur t you. Oh, Ara—” He rolled his head back. “It will kill him inside;

the images I will savour for him shall be etched into the iris of his minds-eye for all time.”

“No—that isn’t fair.”

“Life is not fair. But you refuse to believe that, don’t you?”

I shook my head, feeling anger rise as a physical form of hatred inside me. “I won’t let you

destroy my faith in—”

“I don’t need t o destroy it,” he raised his voice. “I will destroy
you
instead, then David’s

hope, faith in life, in
love
, will be lost forever.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You
will
let me go. I will not be the vi ctim in your family feuds,” I

said with an unsteady cry, trying to sound strong.

“You know—” he stopped and listened as t he voices came closer, “—you only make this

more of a game for me—to see how long I have to hurt you until your faith breaks.”

“And all that will do is make me live longer, because I will
never
lose faith. Love wi ll

prevail. David will come for me, and I will go home and live my life, and you—” I spat the words

out, “will suffer for eternity without Rochelle, and without revenge.”

Jason seemed unperturbed. He shrugged and shook his head. “I have the upper hand here,

my dear. I’m merely toying with you right now.” He reached out sideways and knocked his forearm

across my chest; I coughed out an odd s ounding whimper as I fell to the ground with my hands

across my ches t, unable to find my breath for a second. Jason looked do wn at me with the

amusement of a playful uncle in his eye. “Keep up this haughty attitude, and I will see to it that your

replacement lover finds his precious
baby girl
in such disgrace that he will suffer t he nightmares of

your naked, mutilated body, for the next fifty years.”

“Please! No!” I jumped to my knees and grabbed hold of his arm. “Kill me, do what you

want, but don’t let Mike see—I’m begging you.”

“Begging?” he asked with cold amusement oozing through his voice. “I gave you the chance

to beg, but you were too proud. Now I will give you no such fortune, you impertinent child. Curious

though—” He rubbed his chin and took a short breath. “You care no t for what I show your true

love, but for Mike—you wish him to be free of this detest? Why?”

“He’s good, Jason.” My hysteri a-laced sobs convulsed t hrough me like hiccups. I felt

humiliated at the very sound of them. “He doesn’ t deserve this. It was nothing to do with him.

Please just don’t hurt him like this?”

“Shh, hush now, sweet lit tle girl. It will all be okay—for you. You will be dead in a few

hours, and all of this—the cold, the dark, and the fear of what his last vision of you will be—will all

be over.” Jason s oftened then and str oked my face, so gently. “Do not worry, Amara. Now that I

know how much Mike means to you, I will make sure that he finds you
revoltingly
displayed,”

spiteful cruelty stole the sympathy from his tone.

Images flashed in my mind of so many horrible possibilities. I shook my head, trying to find

words in the back of my closing thr oat. I don’t want Mike to see—I don’t want his last memory of

me to be something horrible.

Jason’s breath fell over my neck as he moved closer; I shuddered away, but he grabbed my

face and held me in place. “You know, now I think of it, mere nightmares will be too kind a torment

for him. Perhaps I should tear a line down the centre of your body and peel y ou apart, so that when

he finds your adulterated corpse, he will fail to breathe; his heart will give out, and he will fall to the

ground beside you—and die.” Jason laughed loudly; I crossed my hands over my chest and looked

down at my grass-stained ball gown.

What is he going to do to me?

Mike will break. He
will
die if Jason hurts me—my deat h will destroy hi m more than

anything in this world ever could. I have to escape—I can’t let him do this to Mike.

While Jason sat, relishing in self-amusement, I gauged the space between his knees where