The Knight Of The Rose (45 page)

Like a habit that had been fo rmed over years, I twisted the ring around on my finger and

studied the shimmering red of the ruby, regretting having asked Mike about it. “Where’s Vicki? My

Dad?”

“They went for coffee,” Mike said. “They stayed for a while, but your dad needed a break—

he’s not doing so well.”

“Can you call them?” I asked Mike , but looked at Davi d quickly.
I need him to go, David—I

need to talk to you.

“Sure.” Mike nodded. “Sure, kid. I’ll be right back. David, man?” Mike stood and looked at

him. David snapped out of his stiff-lipped stare. “Yeah.”

“Don’t let her go, okay?”

He nodded and took my hand, cr ushing the ring against my finger as he squeezed it. “Don’t

worry, I’ll take care of her
for you
.”

Mike paused a second, ignoring the resentment we all heard in David’s tone, then, with his

phone in his hand, cl osed the door, and I t urned to Davi d, trying to stop my lip from

quivering.

“I know,” he said, “ I know where you’ve been. I tried to bring you back, but I just couldn’t

reach you.”

“Why? Why did he do that to me?”

David’s face crumpled, but he stiffened immediately and held s traight. “He wanted to hurt

me.”

“Why?”

“Do you not remember what he showed you?”

Rochelle? So it was true?

He looked away. “He’s never forgiven me. I thought we’d moved past it. But he was just

biding his time until
I
fell in love.”

“But, that was fifty years ago, wasn’t it?”

David nodded, stroking my cheek with the back of one finger. “I’m sorry, Ara. There are no

words...” He shook his head. “
No
words I can offer you to make this all right.”

I grabbed his hand and held it to my cheek. “It’s okay. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

“No. What matters is that you’re alive, and that this will never, ever happen to you again.”

“So...he won’t...I mean, he won’t come back for me?”

David shook his head, seeming to hold the words in that might have accompanied the action.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because he left you alive, Ara. For what reason, I do not know, but the fact that you’re still

here—that he gave you the chance to survive—that he didn’t kill Mike when
he
found you—”

“What? Jason was still there when Mike found me!” I pushed myself up to sit.

David nodded, pressing my chest until I laid back down.

“How do you know?”

“I saw it all.” He rolled his chin toward his chest.

I looked away. “He told me he was going to make you watch.” I hoped he wouldn’t.

“It wasn’t like that, Ara. He wouldn’t show me—” His fists clenched. “I all but ripped it from

his mind. When I saw you here, saw the tearing on your throat—I knew. There is only
one
person in

this world who would do that to a girl everyone
knew
belonged to me.” He took off across the room,

stopping by the window, w ith the dayl ight reminding us both th at the real world still exist ed out

there. “I went straight to him—
forced
him to show me. Only...I wish I hadn’t.”

“I’m sorry, David. I should never’ve went with—”

“No, Ara.” He appeared beside me, taking my hand. “None of this is your fault. None of it. I

left you. I did this. Not you. You should hate
me
.”

That’s not possible, David. It’s not your fault—Jason did this, no one else.

He sniffed once and stayed silent for a while, looking down at my ruby r ing. “I will never

understand why he didn’t finish what he started—but I am eternally grateful that he didn’t.”

“The darkness? He wanted me to be lost in there?” I concluded.

“No.” David shook his head. “No. He sai d something—as he left you there. Something that

just didn’t fit.”

“What did he say?” My brow creased; it felt so weird to use those muscles again.

“He kissed you on the cheek and touched your hair—but he di d it so gently.” David almost

absentmindedly copied the action of his brother. “He touched you the way
I
would. Then he said,
You

don’t know how special you are. I can break your body, but I’ll never break this.
” David placed his

hand over my heart. I looked up from my chest and into the confusion on his face. “It just does n’t

make any sense. I
know
him; I know what he’s capable of. Wh atever changed his mi nd, you don’t

know how lucky you are—how lucky
Mike
is. Ara, he was going t o—” David st opped dead and

closed his eyes.

An involuntary shudder edged up my spi ne. We both breathed heavily in the sil ence for a

second.

“But he bit me. Why didn’t I change?”

David drew a breath, masking the shaking in his chest. “I’m sorry, Ara. You—”

“I don’t have the gene?” Hot tears fi lled my eyes again. I felt mysel f being pull ed

backward—like I’d stayed put in the crowded lounge of an airport, and watched myself leave. David

looked away. “But...I...I changed my mind.”

“I know.” David nodded. “You just—it’s just not in your blood, Ara.”

My whole body became motionless, my eyes closing tightly around hot, salty liquid. “I don’t

want to die anymore, David. I can’t be without you again.”

“I know. I know, my love.” He stroked my hai r, holding my face to his chest—but ther e was

nothing he could say. “You can neve r be a vampire, Ara. The promise of eternity was never mine to

give.” The emptiness of stolen dreams consumed me, and something died within my soul; all hope

fell away to the darkness of my nightmares—like a rose, falling through eternity to a marbled ground

of nowhere—laying lifeless and spoiled with a single drop of crimson on her pretty, white petal. The

only colour she would ever see again.

David rested his forehead to mine and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“How can that be?” My breath touched his lips. “How can it be over now I’ve made up my

mind?” His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes. “Sometimes, Ara, life is cruel.”

“I can’t do this, David. I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself that I’ll never get back—this can’t

be the end.”

“You’re marrying
him
,” David’s voice quavered as he nodded toward the hall—to where

Mike went to call my dad. “That’s as concluded as things get.”

“But you told me to. You wanted me to.”

David’s fingers tightened around my face. “I’m no saint, Ara. I want what’s best for you, but

at the same time...” he let out a heavy breath, “I coul dn’t care less if being with me meant the end of

your future.”

“Then don’t let me go.” Hope filled my voice. “Stay with me—run away with me, I’ll—”

“Ara...” his tone rose a lit tle on the end, “Ara, I can’t. You know I can’t. I have things I need

to deal with—things I must return and take care of, and running away....” he looked down at my face,

“it’s not the answer. Okay?
Life
is the answer and loneliness is the solution.” I went to prot est, but

David shook his head and pressed hi s thumbs firmly into my cheekb ones, gently pressuring me to

silence. “You
will
have a good life with him. I know now, that I’m leaving you in good hands.” We

both looked to t he hall—to Mike, to my best friend and fiancé, pr actically bouncing around the

corridor, smiling with more joy radiating from his heart than I had ever seen. When I looked back at

David, he was already looking at me—his lips twitching as if words rested there—maybe words I

wanted to hear him say.

“I don’t want to have a life anymore. I want to be with you.” The sobs broke out with a

torrent of tears. “I had a lot of time to think in

the dar kness, and none of it matters to me now,

David.” I sniffled and wiped the liquid away from my nose with the back of my wrist. “Love? True

love—that’s all that matters.”

David shook his head. “You can never be immortal, Ara. I sat here, by your side, all this time,

and I
watched
you die. I was helpless, unable to save you— forced to watch you fade away a lit tle

more every day,” his voice broke to a whisper. “You disappeared into nothing, until every trace of

what made you mine, what made you
real
—was gone.”

“But I’m still here. David, I—”

“It doesn’t change things.” A tight crease pulled his brow at the centre. “Look, I know I said

once that I will always hope you will one day change your mind, but that hope no longer exists. It’s

been ripped away by reality, Ara. I will
not
stay with you as a mortal—I
have
to leave.”

“Why? Am I so repulsive to you that you can’t love me with a heartbeat?”

David stood back and looked down at his clenched fist. “You know it has nothing to do with

lo—”

“Then what is it?” I almost screamed, I could feel my face burning with heat. “Why won’t

you just love me enough to think I’m the only thing that matters. I know I messed up. I know

I’m moody and spoilt, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t let you ta ke me away, I’m sorry I went with

Jason, and what you’re doing to me now, David, is making me goddamn well sorry I ever fell in—”

“Ara!” He held a finger up, tilting his head awkw ardly away as if he were fighting a deep,

instinctual urge within him—what it was, I couldn’t tell. “Don’t say what you’re about to say. If you

say it, it’s been said, and you won’t be able to take it back.”

I held onto the urge to yell at him, to scream at him, but I could only hold it so long; it burst

out in a singular cry, and I folded my face into my hand. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”

“Ara, Ara, stop.” He gathered me in his arms. “Ara, please, please don’t do this, my love.”

“No. You stop it. Don’t call me that. You can’t call me that and then leave me.” I grabbed his

shirt and looked deep into his eyes, my tears stopping with my breath. “You don’t know what you’re

doing. You can’t leave. I’ll die if you leave, David. I’ll never be able to—”

“You have to cope, Ara.” He unfolded my fingers from his shir t. “You’ve got no goddamn

choice.”

“No. I do. This is love. This is life. I’m alive.” I tapped my chest. “I’m alive. We get a second

chance, David. Don’t waste that.”

“I won’t.” He looked into me, and I could almost feel him reaching out to stroke my face, but

though his eyes said he wanted to, his hands stayed by his sides. “I’m leaving you so you can live. A

life with me, running, hiding like dogs, Ara, would be a waste. I will walk out that door—” he

pointed across the room, “and you have the choice to either say goodbye to me now, or
never
have

the chance again.”

It hurt so much—in my heart. I rolled my head back, letting my face crumple with the pain of

his impassively conclusive words. “David. Please.” My whisper was nothing but a breath. “You

can’t—I won’t live without you. I won’t, and you can’t make me.”

But he took another step away from me. “I’m sorry, Ara.”

My mouth dropped with the disbelief my heart suffered for each i nch of space between us.

The fight in me turned to fear, and I tried to move my legs—to get up and run after him, but they felt

like jelly; I could barely even move my toes.

“David.” I reached out. “David. Don’t. Please. Don’t go.”

He looked away from me, his eyes scrunching tightly in the corners as he closed them.

“David, I love you. If I could take it all back, I would. Just, please. Please stay with me—

please don’t leave me again—I want to be with you.”

“But you can’t be with me, Ara.” He appeared beside me and touched my face, stroking the

release of tears from my cheek with his thumb. “I left you with scars from my involvement in your

life—and it’s time to put it right again. I love you too much to let you get hurt like that.” His voice

trembled; he steadied it with a breath. “And I can
never
watch you die again. I swear—” he shook his

head and clutched a fist over his heart, “—as long as I walk this Earth, as long as I continue to move,

I will have to believe that you are alive—that you still exist, or I will not survive this human life.”

“But—how do I go on without you?” I sobbed.

David stood stiff and strong in front of me, hi s tears completely dried. He pressed his lips

together and moved his head from side to side. It hurt me to see him so composed when I was

breaking apart. “You only have an other hundred years to have to live with this, Ara. I have a lot

longer—I’m sure you will find a way to cope.”

“How can you be so mean? Just because I can’t be like you.” My broken heart turned cold

then, and anger rose inside me. “You don’t love me—not when you can just leave so easily. You hate

me? I see i t in your eyes. It’s why you won’t look at me. I’ m just a game t o you, aren’ t I? Just

another victim of your cr uel-streak! You never truly loved me,” I mutter ed the last i n defeated

resolve, sobbing into my hands.

“No, Ara—I love you too much. That is why I ha ve to leave you,” he subdued the emotion in

his tone. “I’m sorry. It’s over for us—you belong to
him
now.”

“No.” I reached for him, just managing to grasp his shirt before he could pull away. “David,

please—you’re making a mistake.” My eyes widened with panic. “Please don’t leave me?”

Behind David, the door flung open and Mike’s smile dropped when he saw my face. “What