Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(89)
Author: A.M. Hudson

“Good question,” Blade said, rubbing his jaw.

“Well, clearly he knows you’ve been crowned now, and clearly knows you’re alive,” Quaid said. “Maybe he knows we plan to attack him. Maybe he’s, by giving us a month, buying himself more time.”

I nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

“No. That’s too simple.” Mike waved his index finger like a drumstick. “He wouldn’t send a demand to buy time. He’d ask for a truce—knowing Ara would accept—then he’d just attack.”

“Well, he’s waiting for a reply in a fortnight, right?” Quaid said. “I say we continue with our plan to attack next week—take him by surprise.”

“No. We have to cancel the attack,” Mike said.

“Why?” I said.

“Because he’s probably aware of our plans,” Falcon said. “He would know about the crowning process, the powers it will give you. I bet he’s expecting us to attack.”

“I agree,” Mike said.

“So…we don’t attack?” I asked.

Everyone looked at everyone else.

“We could wait,” Morgaine suggested. “We could send out spies to investigate Elysium and see what he’s got going out there—see what we’re up against.”

“Maybe we can let him attack us here, and we’ll just wipe him out,” Blade suggested.

“That would be fighting fire with a garden hose, Blade,” Mike said. “There will be no attack here; we have families living on this land.”

“Right, and the queen,” Falcon added.

Mike looked at him. “That goes without saying.”

“So, what, we’ll send knights in to investigate?” I asked.

“That would also be a bad idea,” Arthur said from the base of the stairs.

“This is not your concern, vampire.” Mike spun around to face him. “It is House and Private Council business.”

“Then speak in private quarters,” Arthur said and stepped away.

“Wait, Arthur?” I ran down the steps and grabbed his sleeve. “Why? Why would it be a bad idea?”

He looked at Mike, then back at me again. "Because, my queen, he may be all too aware of immunity, for examp—”

“What!” Morgaine gasped. “How do you know about that?”

“Immunity?” Walter walked closer. “What immunity?”

Arthur took my hands, ignoring the rest, who went on with a conversation behind us. “My dear, he may be looking to get his hands on a Pure Created. A mere Created Lilithian would not protect his army against your swords. He is a master of strategy. Everything he does has been planned out to make you think you have looked past the first two options and are clever enough to guess his real motive.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “So, we won’t send Pure Created knights in there.”

He looked over at the bunch of old and new immortals arguing and waving their hands around as the House learned about immunity for the first time. “I am sorry I had to bring that up, but it is no longer a card you hold.”

I nodded. “How did you know?”

He smiled. “You let something slip.”

“I did?”

“Yes.” His eyes darkened. “I only wish you had known of this before my sons died.”

I touched his shoulder, feeling Mike’s vehement glare on the side of my face. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”

He bowed and turned away. I watched his back until he disappeared into the crowds outside in the afternoon sun.

“You told him about immunity?” Mike grabbed my arm.

“I…he said I let something slip.”

“Ara, this is exactly what I was afraid of.” He shoved me away softly and rubbed his brow. “Now Drake probably knows.”

“Probably. But I don’t think Arthur would have told him, or he wouldn’t have just admitted that he knew about it.”

“Or would he? To make us think he wouldn’t have told Drake, since he’d be the first we’d suspect anyway.”

I sighed, exasperated. “Look, Mike, I’m tired. I just wanna go have a shower and get some rest before the ball tonight. Can we please discuss all this in the meeting tomorrow?”

He backed down, smiling softly at me—the old, loving Mike. “I haven’t even had a chance to tell you how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks, Mike,” I said in a squeezed breath as he hugged me tight. “And, by the way, you look sooo hot in that.”

He grinned, leaning back a little to look down at me. “I know.”

“Does the tattoo hurt?” I touched his upper arm.

“Nope. Yours?”

I shook my head, and as soon as I felt the air between us from the distance of his body, Emily came flying in, practically squealing with excitement. “Ara. You look so pretty, and I was crying so hard when you finally came out of that forest. I literally paced the floors all night, worrying about you.”

I patted her back, breathing deep the smell of her apple shampoo. “I’m okay.”

“So, is it haunted?” she asked, stepping back.

“The forest?”

“Yeah.”

“Um…” I looked back into the memory for a second. “I think it probably is.”

“Oh, my God.” She cupped her hands under her chin. “You poor thing. Were you scared?”

Mike took this opportunity of girl talk to slink back to the manly political discussion going on at the top of the stairs. I looked back at Emily. “I was okay. Um, Em, I’ll talk later, okay. I really need some sleep before tonight.” And probably a good cry.

“Okay. We’ll talk at the ball then.” She touched my arm softly then walked away.

Flowing hot water soothed my skin only minutes ago, but the silence of my own thoughts—where I spent most of last night—was all too much for me to bear as I laid on my bed in the coloured light streaming through the dome. Though I was clean and fed, and the dry, pulsing sting of blood-thirst had eased, I felt empty and cold.

After the Walk of Terror, I should be grateful for simple comforts, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the things I faced in that forest long enough to even enjoy the absence of gravity again. So, I got up and went down to the beach.

My heels sunk deep into the white sand, making it squeak each time I turned to pace back the other way. I didn’t want to cry; I wanted to be strong—to move on from all the horrors of last night and just be a resilient, powerful queen. But seeing Jason in that forest made him feel so real, and the place I used to go inside my head to hate him was gone. That walk had changed things in me, that was for sure, but I wasn’t sure if what had changed was for the better. All the grief I never wanted to feel for losing Jason came to the surface, down here, by the giant cliffs, safe from judging eyes. And it scared me, because I’d never grieved so deeply for anything. Never.