Lies in Blood (Dark Secrets #4)(34)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“Romania?” I gasped. “How did you—I mean, I thought he was in Paris,” I corrected, playing dumb, trying not to think about the conversation Arthur and I had a few weeks ago, when he confessed to forging a letter reporting Drake’s whereabouts.

“It was a lie,” David said. “My spies have located him in Romania.”

I sat silently, cursing David and his competence.

“Jason?” He turned to his brother, whose obvious distress had not gone unnoticed. “What is it?”

“I—” Jason paused, his face going almost blue with horror. He took a few slow steps backward, his butt meeting the shelf, making it wobble unsteadily on the uneven wood floors. “I’ve made a really big mistake.”

“What mistake?” David appeared in front of him. “Speak to me, brother?”

“I have to. . .” Jason looked at me once before slowly turning his gaze back to David. “There’s something you need to know.”

David cupped his hand along the side of Jason’s neck, his thumb on his face like some Mafia boss. “You can tell me anything, brother, you know that.”

“I just wanted to save you—to save her from what she’d do to save you.”

“What do you mean? Hold that thought.” David halted the conversation with his index finger and grabbed his phone from his back pocket. “Yo.”

I frowned at Jason, but he averted his eyes quickly.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a sec.” David hung up and stowed the phone again, untucking his shirttail where the device dragged it into his pocket a little. “Ara, time for bed.”

“Why?”

“Mike’s got an issue with one of the Damned. I gotta run.”

“So?”

“So, I’m not leaving you two in the same room—alone.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Grow up, David. What d’you think I’m gonna do? Make a baby with him?”

“That’s not funny, Ara.”

I shrugged, trying not to laugh at the look on his face.

He pointed at Jason. “It’s on your shoulders, brother.”

“I’m not gonna touch her.”

“See that you don’t.”

“David?” I stood, but he disappeared. “Argh! He has got to stop doing that.”

“Ara? I’m so sorry.”

A frown moved in across my face, my gaze slowly landing on Jason. “Why are you sorry?”

“I. . .” He exhaled, folding over as if he was puffed out. “I didn’t know that—about the law.”

“What do you mean?”

“I . . . if I’d known. I would never have. . .”

“Jase, you’re scaring me.” I took a few steps closer and bent down to his level, gently tilting his chin upward. “What’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth, his eyes darting over every inch of my face, but no words came.

“Jase, please.”

“I’ve failed you so many times, in so many ways, Ara.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just . . . I just need you to know that I’m sorry—for everything.”

“Okay.” I half laughed, stroking his stubbly cheek over and over again. “It’s okay, Jase. Really. Everything’s okay.”

He sobered with a shaky breath. “It is. As long as he never asks me what I was about to say.”

My frown deepened. “What were you about to say?”

“Something that would’ve ruined your last few months together.” He stood straight again. “It was stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

“What would ruin it?”

“Nothing. Just . . . nothing.”

“Have you. . .? Did you. . .?”

“It’s nothing, Ara.” He reached across and rubbed my arm reassuringly. “I—it was just bringing up the past.”

“Yeah, don’t do that.” I grinned. “He hates even thinking about it.”

“I know. I’ll uh. . .” He backed away a few steps. “I’ll see ya later, sweet girl, okay?”

“O—” I started, but when I looked up to see his smiling eyes, he was gone.

“What is it with these Knight boys and farewells?” I said, imagining Eve down here in the eerie old room beside me. But no one answered.

The morning had risen outside as we’d all talked, and there was at least enough light in here now to find a small golden apple if one were searching for it. So, I put my aches and problems away inside my chest for a minute and dusted my hands off on my nightdress, even though they weren’t dirty, then folded myself in half to look under the bed. That apple I dreamed about was in here somewhere. I could have sworn I’d put it on the dresser last time, but it wasn’t there when I stole a glance behind Jason just now.

“Eve?” I said softly, not sure if she was here or if she was even real. “Can you help me find it?”

A high chime rang through the air then, sharp, but melodious, drowned out slightly by the clicking of gears. I walked slowly over to the music box on the dresser and, there, sitting among a few small trinkets, was the golden apple Eve was given before she died.

“Thank you, Eve,” I whispered, picking it up. “I promise you I’ll figure this out.”

The apple glimmered in what little dawn light crept in between the boarded windows. It was heavy for something so small, reminding me a little of a fairy tale I read when I was young—about a golden ball and a frog.

I turned it several times in my hands, poking the smooth, cold surface, but there was no hole, no button, no secret door. It was completely solid. And I had no idea what that meant. Maybe the keyhole I saw in my dream was a mistake or maybe even a metaphor, as in, maybe, the apple was the key to something, or the door to something.

“Okay, you know that promise I just made?” I said suggestively, then curled my fingers around the golden apple, hiding it away as I headed for the stairs again.

When the secret door closed behind me this morning as the dawn settled toward day, I’d stood in my empty room for longer than the clock ticking on the wall cared to admit. But David didn’t come back up—didn’t come to talk to me or make everything okay. He was gone, clearly off somewhere playing his role as king.

I left my room behind and, as I’d walked down the corridor to find him, my sweeping gaze landed on the two figures in the front yard. A caravan of delivery trucks streamed in one by one, and David and Arthur stepped up to sign for packages that were, judging by the volume of plants and boxes of beakers they were checking, the stock for Arthur’s new Herbalist Lab and greenhouse. Clearly, David wasn’t coming up to talk to me anytime soon. He’d given me all he was required to give: the facts. He’d brush it off and keep going now, duty-bound to operate in a ‘business as usual’ manner. The way he always did. Come what may.