Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(45)
Author: A.M. Hudson

Mute with bewilderment and disappointment, I looked back at the children. “I really thought they were—”

“I know what you thought.” Mike wrapped a heavy arm over my neck; he smelled of blood mixed with dirt and sweat, and, now I thought about it—onion. “Exactly what the last person who talked to them thought, too—and now she’s dead.”

“I thought you were making that up—to scare me.”

“Why would I do that, Ara? Honestly.” He shook his head again—his new favourite move when it came to me. “She was all too real, baby. Human. Not lucky enough to be like us. She didn’t even get a chance to heal.”

I looked at the bloodied mess of Mike’s face, and felt absolutely no pity for him. “Well, you deserve every scratch you got.” I folded my arms and stormed past him. “Jerk!”

“It was worth it,” he called after me.

I stopped. “Why? So you and your pal there had another chance to beat those children.”

Mike grabbed my arm, appearing beside me at vamp speed. “No, Ara—it was the only way to teach you a lesson. Maybe now you might start to realise that, sometimes, what your heart tells you, and what’s right, are two different things.”

“My heart tells me they wouldn’t have hurt me if you weren’t here.” I poked his chest. “It’s you and that…that thing they’re afraid of.” I pointed at the keeper. I meant the stick, but calling him a thing served my point, too.

Mike huffed loudly and dropped his arms to his sides. “There’s just no getting through to you, is there?”

“Not when it comes to what I believe is right and wrong, Mike.”

“Ara, you’re a little girl, for God’s sake. You wouldn’t know the complexities of right and wrong if they came up and ripped your hair out.”

“There are no complexities, Michael! Black and white. That’s it. And the black of it is, those Damned are children.” I pointed a straight arm at their cage. “And the white of it is, I’m going to help them.”

“And what are you gonna do?” He leaned forward, towering over me. “Let them loose? Give them a bedroom and a dolly to play with?”

“I don’t know. But one way or another, I will find a way to make their lives better. I know what they’re capable of now, but that changes nothing.”

“Ara, they’re like the Children of the Corn, baby. They haven’t been changed by compassion for humans. They see killing in black and white, whether you wanna believe that or not.”

“That may be so, but desperation and loneliness will turn even the sweetest kitten into a savage beast.” I started walking again but stopped and looked down at the little boy, now sitting by the bars again. “We have no right to create monsters and then punish them for monstrous behaviour, Mike. We start making plans for a new home for them—today!”

Chapter Five

Petey sat by my feet, well, on my foot, while I leaned my elbows on the balcony railing, trying to spot the lighthouse through the orange glow of sunset. Now that I’d been down to the field and knew where the lighthouse was, I could just make out what I thought was the top, but I wasn’t sure. Below my balcony, the summer smell of the forest mixed with the briny salt of sea spray on the breeze, making me thirsty. Really thirsty.

“Where do you think he is, Petey?” I asked, scratching him on the head. “If he doesn’t call soon, I think I’m just gonna jump over this balcony and go see him. He promised. He said ‘every day. I will call you every day. Six, no, nine times a day’. What happened to that?”

Petey whined, licking his chops.

“Ara?” Mike’s voice kind of made me cringe. I knew why he was here. “Why aren’t you at dinner?”

I looked down at Petey. “Told ya we’d get in trouble.”

“You’re blaming the dog?”

“It was his idea,” I said, and Petey groaned, moving to sit by Mike’s feet.

“Right. Looks that way,” Mike said, a little smug.

“Okay. Fine. I just…I’m too depressed to go down there and pretend I want to listen to everyone argue.”

“Too bad,” he scoffed. “A part of our tradition is to dine in community each night. And you’re the princess—you don’t get to hide in your room and throw a tantrum because the world isn’t going your way.”

“Mike? I just got attacked by a gang of bloodthirsty kindergarteners and I haven’t heard from the man who’s supposed to love me for nearly a week, because he doesn’t want to speak to me.”

“Doesn’t want to, huh?”

I nodded.

“Look—” He scratched just beside his eye. “I’ll talk to him for you, okay? But I know he’s just feelin’ it pretty deep—this whole being apart thing. His way of dealing with that is to distance himself.”

“How would that help?”

“Ar, you know how it is—like when you talk to a friend on the phone that you haven’t seen in ages. It always hurts more right after you hang up.” He tugged softly on a strand of my hair. “He still loves ya, baby.”

“Well, until he tells me that, in his own words, I think I have a right to feel a bit sad.”

“Yes, you do, but you don’t get to sit here and wallow in it. You have a responsibly to your people, and a part of that is maintaining rituals, even if you don’t feel like it. Now, suck it up and get down stairs.”

I watched my door swing closed behind him, letting my lip quiver. “I just can’t go down there, Petey. I’ll cry. I know it. If I have to sit through another stupid argument between vampires and Lilithians, I think I’ll just burst into tears.” I covered my face. “I’ve had enough. I’m not going.”

“Not even if I ask you?” Eric pushed the curtains back and stepped into the pink light of the setting sun.

“I just can’t.” I looked back out over the ocean.

“Ara, please. You’re the only person worth talking to down there.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do you really think I want to be there?” He leaned against the railing beside me, arms folded, back to the view. “I’m a vampire. I have no real need to eat, but I go—for you.”

I bit my teeth together, shaking my head.

“Please?” He grinned, and that dimple-indent thing leaped off his cheek and hit me in the hard exterior.