Silence: Part Two of Echoes & Silence (7 page)

Drake kept one hand firmly around my wrist, obviously connecting me to the spell, his other hand outward in case anyone walked into our miracle bubble, and we watched as everyone drew their own conclusions about what had happened in here.

When they finally stormed out, muttering something about a hunting party, Falcon just walked slowly to the windows and inspected both ends of the manor through the broken glass. The room fell to total silence behind him, the rain coming down hard outside.

He looked at something in his hand and then gently placed it to his lips. “Thank God.”

Drake and I exchanged glances. He seemed more puzzled than me.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Ara,” Falcon said. “But if you’re out there, watching, waiting…
run
. Don’t come back. Run as far and as fast as you can until that baby is born.”

The fear and dread in his tone made my skin crawl. Drake’s hand tightened supportively on my wrist. We held there, still as statues, me holding my breath, as Blade and Quaid joined Falcon again. They took one look at him, and without any verbal cue must have known he wasn’t worried. They both just nodded once.

“Guess we better put word out,” Blade said.

“And start a mock search party?” Quaid offered.

Falcon nodded, his chest puffed with obvious grief, then turned and walked out of the room. I looked right at him as he passed me; it was the strangest sensation to see directly into a man’s eyes without him looking back. But I saw what he wouldn’t show the other guys: a mix of relief
and
fear.

When Quaid and Blade finally left too, Drake let go of my wrist and stepped away. “Is there anything you’d like to bring with you?”

If there was, I couldn’t think of it right then.

“Right.” He offered his hand. As he unfolded his fingertips, I noticed the lines in his palm. They were the strangest, oddest pattern I’d ever seen. Nothing like modern hands—the more prominent lines running vertically not horizontally.

I hesitantly placed my hand in his. “Where are we going?”

“To the castle—”

“What!”

“You’ll be safe there.”

“But—”

“I know.” He used my hand to draw me closer, cupping it between his palms. “I’m sorry you had to go through what you suffered there, but it is the safest place for you. Your monarchy has no rule there, and even if they found you, they cannot force you to leave.”

I knew he was right. I didn’t have a choice but to go with him. I needed to escape and reassess, but then again, maybe going with him had its advantages. We’d been waiting for the perfect opportunity to get near him with his guard dropped. This could be my chance to have him right where I wanted him. Once and for all. And kill him!

“Can I call David when I get there—tell him I’m okay?”

“Of course. Although, perhaps I should use a watching spell first—just to see if he’s an ally or an enemy.”

“Enemy?”

“After what happened with Arthur…” he said suggestively.

“I don’t think David hates me, Drake. I think he pities me.”

“Well, we shall see.” He bent slightly and picked me up. My arms flung out nervously before I tucked my elbow behind his shoulder and wrapped my hands around his neck, wishing I had the strength to snap it. “Close your eyes,” he said.

But they were already shut. If I had to be this close to that disgusting slimeball, there’s no way I could do it without picturing him as a random fireman rescuing me from a burning building.

Chapter Two

The white sun pierced my eyes as we materialised on a gravel path, skidding like a speeding car. The entire contents of my stomach went right, hitting the opposite side as we stopped dead. I wriggled and scrambled quickly out of Drake’s arms, reaching for the stone wall as soon as my feet touched the ground.

Drake steadied me by the arm. “Are you okay?”

“No!”

He stood back deliberately, while I fought whatever nasty thing was about to leave my stomach.

I leaned into the wall, cupping one hand under Bump, keeping my gaze on the ground—the only thing not moving—and just focused on the lemony scent of fresh pines, wafting in low to the ground with the early morning breeze.

When it settled and my body finally accepted the suddenness of the change, Drake laughed, straightening his long cloak then deliberately messing up his hair. “I felt the same on my first jump.”

“Where are we?” I asked, noticing the short green grass to my left and the giant cream building under my hand.

“Your new home,” Drake said, and rolled his hand out to present it. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to The Castle Elysium, better known by some as Le Château de le Mort.”

I dropped my hand quickly from the wall and stepped back, hugging myself. Nothing about it looked the way I remembered. Until my eyes travelled the length of the central tower to the clock, standing proudly above the entrance, and there my mind recalled the gothic peaks and the darkness—the feeling of being so small and so alone that I stupidly let myself trust Jason. But it all slipped backward in my memory, giving way to the truth that daylight and the absence of fear extended: Arthur’s family home was beautiful, with cream cathedral-like peaks and at least a dozen open windows along the rectangular façade. Acres and acres of grass stretched across the vacant lands, tucked in on the sides under a wildly overgrown forest of evergreens, the green broken only by a white pebbled path cutting a straight line through from the front steps to as far as the eye could see.

Drake smiled at the surprise in my face. “Not what you remember?”

I brushed my hair flat and straightened my clothes, feeling slightly underdressed. “No.”

When he laughed, the sound was so warm and almost youthful that I looked back at him: his hair shone blue-black in the early light of the sun, his unnaturally blue eyes standing out like gems had been embedded beneath his inky brows. Everything about him looked and sounded human, but the pure heartless evil in his soul made his eyes gleam like the Devil’s. And I was in no way fooled by his disguise.

“How did you get me here that fast—and without breaking windows?”

He presented the sky. “We’re outdoors. Nothing to break.”

“Well, that was just crazy.” I rubbed my face, a little exhilarated now the wooziness had worn off. “I mean, people say you’re a witch, but I can’t believe I was standing in my room just a few seconds ago. That must be some wicked awesome magic.”

“It is—and it’s dangerous. Not to be taken lightly.” He offered his hand. “Now, let’s go inside. You look like you could use a warm drink.”

He was right about that. But a huge part of me just didn’t want to go in there. I could
still
feel the ghostly chill that stuck in my wedding night memories like paste; could still hear the clicking of Jason’s shoes as he carried me, sleepy and trusting, to that cell. “The place looks nothing like what I saw that night. And I have a
very
good memory,” I said accusingly.

Drake laughed. “What you saw was the southern wing—otherwise known as
Drake
ula’s Castle.”

“As what?”

“You may not know this, but I am a man of the arts—” which had always been evident from his thespian voice and stagey demeanour “—and one of the shining features of my home is the Gothic Castle Tours I run, complete with a theatre show and light refreshments.”

My mouth fixed around a consonant, the new information stupefying me, but my face questioned him. On everything. I let myself see the ripped tapestries again, the blood stains on the carpet, the darkness and the fear, and in place of the unknown, of the fear of what lay behind all those closed doors that night, discount spiderwebs and plastic skeletons stepped in. “So it was all… fake?”

His head moved in an over-accentuated nod. “Embellished, you might say, to look like a cliché vampire lair. Tourists love it.”

“So you had me taken there to scare me?”

“Of course not. It just also happens to be where the Chamber of Business, my private study, and the Court Rooms are.”

“And the cells, clearly.”

“Dungeons, we call them, Amara,” he said. “We don’t sugarcoat things here.”

I looked back up at the clock tower. “I saw that—” I pointed up at it. “When I opened my eyes that night. I saw the clock tower, but it looked grey and menacing.”

“You saw the
south
clock tower. There are two.” He leaned in and held up two fingers, then popped both hands behind his back as he leaned away again. “Perhaps Her Majesty would enjoy a tour before refreshments?”

“No. Thank you. I haven’t eaten since dinner. I need food now,” I said. “And there’s
no
way I’m going to the southern wing. Ever!”

“Very well.” He walked onward with his hands behind his back. “Then we shall eat. Follow me.”

The steady walls of the castle loomed above me, made not of brick and mortar but of right or wrong, of yes or no, of then and now. My feet wanted to move, my heart and body wanted to go—to walk through those doors after Drake and find a way to kill him in his own lair—but it felt as if a wavering heat emanated off those cold bricks, barring me from entering. I knew why. I also knew it was healthy to feel the fear, the uncertainty. And even healthier to show it.

“My dear?” Drake turned back as he reached the front steps.

“I…” I made my jaw tremble, my brow crinkle and my mouth twist up. I could do this—I could walk in there and pretend everything was okay, but if I seemed too eager, if I didn’t show some display of emotion for the things he did in the past, he’d know something was up. “I can’t.”

He dropped his hands from behind his back and approached me, offering one. “Amara. Please. I give you my word that no harm will come to you here—”

“It’s not that.” I stepped back, scowling at his hand. “I can’t play this game, Drake. I can’t talk civilly with you. I just can’t… I don’t think I can even let you protect us.” My hands wrapped Bump. “We need to go.”

“Amara.” He ran after me as I turned away. “Why?”

I strode swiftly down the very long, very straight road out of there. “You killed them. All those innocent children. I can’t put that aside—not even for a little bit. I hate you, Drake,” I said factually, with surprisingly little emotion.

“Did you ever stop to think about that day?” he said, staying back. “Perhaps there’s more to the story than you care to see.”

“There’s not,” I snapped. “And I don’t care what you have to say about it. None of it matters. You’re a murderer!”

“What is eternity?” he called, his voice sounding plain in the denseness Nature applied to the outdoors.

“A bloody long time,” I retorted without missing a beat.

“Precisely. Now imagine losing someone you’ve spent centuries with. Or if you cannot imagine that—” he got louder as I got further away, “—then imagine never spending another day of that eternity with David.”

I spun around to face him. “Is that a threat?”

“No.” He appeared in front of me, his long cape swirling around his ankles with the arc of his vampire speed. “I would never take him away from you, Amara. I understand too deeply the pain of losing a lover.”

As he went to pat Bump to make his point, I jerked away.

He lowered his hand, then his head. “I wanted to kill him that day. When I got the call that he’d murdered Morgana—that he’d taken her life while I wasn’t there to protect her.” For a single breath, as his voice lost its steely command and he buried his face in the tips of his fingers, I actually felt sorry for him. “I lowered the phone from my ear and it crumbled in my palm as I imagined cupping David’s neck. And it took
everything
in me not to hunt him down and end his life.”

I took another step back as the depth of his emotion showed in his aura, making his skin glow blue, like mine did when I made love to David.

He looked up from the ground, his haunting eyes brimming with thick, foggy liquid. “She was not my own child, but she was my
daughter
all the same. And I loved her—
unconditionally
. I have been with her, loved her, protected her, for centuries.
Centuries
,” he yelled, cupping a hand across his mouth after and slowly wiping it down his chin, composing himself. “And then you came along, and she did one thing. Just
one
thing to offend you—something that, while it was cruel was not irreparable—and for that, David took her
life
.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to feel anything, but either he was a tremendous performer, or he truly was completely torn up about Morgana.

He lowered both hands to his knees and breathed heavily a few times. “I will never see her again. I will never hold her again.
Centuries
, Amara.” He rolled stiffly to stand, the tears freeing themselves from his lashes, following an invisible path down his cheeks. “You do not fully understand the pain. But David does. He knew as he beat her and as he tore her head from her body what he was taking away from me, and he chose to do it.” He wiped his face. “So I’m sorry, but if you lost a group of people you knew for a few months, you walked out of this relatively unscathed, because it is not a habit of mine to show mercy. And mercy is what you
all
received that day.” The way his voice shook as he spoke, with a mix of hurt and devastation—unnervingly free of anger—made my shoulders drop a little. It wasn’t an act. No matter how good he might be at playing a role, what I just saw in him was raw emotion—pure and unadulterated heartache.

I understood then, and it scared me, to imagine how I would feel if I let Jason give his soul for my baby.

“For what it’s worth, Drake, I never wanted her dead,” I said. “Not really. And I am sorry.”

He closed his eyes and drew a long breath through an open mouth, composing himself. “That means a great deal to me, Amara. More than you know, being that you’re the first person to acknowledge her passing.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was cremated in a
bonfire
at a Lilithian Fair.” He opened both hands as if to present the absence of Morgana, or maybe of the stolen rights of family. “I was never given the chance to say goodbye; she knew very few people in her life here, so there were none to mourn her with me. And not one soul in my entire universe knows the pain I feel for her loss. Therefore none have thought to offer condolences.”

A cold pinching sensation moved up from my ankles to my arms, leaving little bumps behind. Until I remembered breaking the devastating news to the adoptive parents of those little children as they arrived the next day to either take their babies home or stay for a visit.

“Well, you have your condolences now. And that’s all you will ever get from me.” I nodded once and turned away to continue my swift-paced albeit false attempt to leave.

“Where will you go?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I folded my arms over my chest, watching my feet roll against the gravel with each step. “Maybe to Jason.”

“Of all the places, why there?”

“Why not?”

“Because you know too well that the House will find you there—”

“And Jason will hide me—keep me safe.”

“Yes. He will. But at what cost?”

I stopped walking. “What do you mean?”

“He is a smart boy. The second you turn up on his doorstep, he will pack up his things and take you far away—where no one will find you.”

“How is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not. But what will he leave behind to do that?” he said. “All that he has worked for, all that he has become, he will let it go to keep you safe and, at the end of it all, you will return to David and he will have nothing. And no one.”

I slowly released my arms from their fold. This was the turning point—the moment in our conversation that I let him think he’s
just
swayed me into staying. That way, it’s his idea; not mine.

“If you do not feel safe here, with me, I will take you somewhere else,” he said, approaching me like a drover to a wild horse. “But for the love of God, child, do not walk. Let me get the car.”

I looked back at the castle. From out here I could see how the thick, wildly grown pines formed a foreboding border between Drake’s property and the human world—see the other clock tower and all four quadrants, each as long as the other, joined at the corners by square towers. There were smaller buildings dotted randomly around the grounds and even a few stables along a wide fenced paddock with horses and sheep. And in all its rolling green beauty, above the mysterious placement of the forest and the wonder of the unknown beyond the castle walls, or the fact that there were so many people walking its grounds, the only question that came to my mind was, “What are the sheep for?”