Silence: Part Two of Echoes & Silence (79 page)

“Love?” Mike’s lips turned down in a funny, crinkled-up cringe. “I get it—I get that they bonded over their powers and stuff, but I will never be able to think of her feeling
love
for that guy.”

“You just don’t know him,” David offered, reaching for my hand.

“And most of the stuff you hated about him was an act, Mike,” I reminded him. “He’s actually really sweet.”

“And murderous.”

“Yes, then there’s that.” I smiled to myself. But I kind of liked that. Drake could be loving and protective and kind, but he was still a vampire through and through. I felt safe with him because I knew who he was and what lengths he would go to. He was predictable in that sense, but so uniquely clever that I would not like to be an enemy of his.

“If he does ever wake up, how do you think he’ll feel to know Vicki killed his father?” Mike asked David.

“To be honest?” David leaned forward and scooped up a cracker and dip, popping it in his mouth before speaking. “When he finds out that Vampirie tried to kill Elora, I think he’ll be fine with it. He’ll mourn him, of course, but the bastard had it coming.”

“And he
can
be resurrected—according to Lilith,” I added. “So he’s really more on lockdown until we decide what to do with him.”

“Or is that just what you’re telling Sam?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Alana cooed. “Poor Sam. How’s he doing now after losing his dad twice?”

“He’s tough,” I said.

“And he has Jason,” David added.

“Sam said Jason’s the brother he always wanted.” I grinned at Mike, who grinned back.

“He talked about it all the time,” Mike said, sipping his drink and then putting it down before adding, “Vicki couldn’t have any more kids, so he just accepted that he’d only ever have a sister who oddly enough is actually his niece.”

We all laughed.

“But,” Mike continued, “he said to me the other day that ‘Jase’—” he used quotey fingers in the air, still not used to calling him that, “—was his brother from another mother.”

“And Jason’s happy, too,” David said, passing me a cocktail and taking one for himself. “I thought he’d wanna be turned vampire again, but he says it’s the last thing he wants. Ever.”

“But you will one day, right?” Ryan asked. “Turn him?”

David just sipped his drink in response, and Ryan took that as “No comment”. I, however, knew David would turn Jase one day against his wishes, because he would not let his brother leave him for eternity, like Arthur did.

“He looks good,” Em noted with dreamy eyes. “A few extra pounds, some sunshine, and a few extra inches of height really suits him.”

“Don’t get any ideas.” Mike pointed at her, and then they both laughed.

“He’s too much of a kid now to think about him that way, Mike,” I added. “He acts more like he’s seventeen, not nineteen.”

“I noticed that,” Alana said. “I mean, I only met him the one time—at your wedding—but he acts younger than David, and I was a bit surprised.”

“He will grow up, though,” Mike offered. “School seems to be making a difference.”

“It is,” David said, and I could feel the relief in him. “He’s got plenty of mature qualities, though—handling the situation with Vampirie for a start—”

“Yes, I was a bit surprised to hear that he’d just moved the head like that and scooped up the blood in his hands,” Em said, sitting back, her brow moving up in thought.

“Blood doesn’t seem to bother him,” I said. “I guess he’s been around it so long it’s second nature.”

“And I hear the painting is, too,” Em said. “He told me he just woke up one day and had an urge to paint.”

“Yes,” I said, swallowing my drink down. “It’s like riding a bike—he doesn’t actually remember so much
how
to do it; as in, if he puts thought to it he struggles, but when he works on autopilot he’s brilliant.”

“Will he take classes again—relearn?” Alana asked.

“He already is—at school.”

“That’s good,” she said with a nod. “Sounds like he’s going to be okay then.”

“Yes, now all we need is for Ara’s real dad to wake up, and she might actually have a hope of being happy,” Em said.

“I’m happy.” I looked into my lap as I spoke, because it was true. I was happy. But having my dad here—my teacher, my friend—
would
make all the difference.

Em’s ears pricked then and she sat taller, listening. “Is that the baby crying?”

I looked at the monitor, but the lights weren’t moving. “Nope. You’re hearing things.”

“My mom used to say that you hear babies crying when you’re expecting, or if there’s one waiting up there in the pipeline for you,” Alana said, grinning widely at Em’s expression after.

“Funnily enough,” I added, “my mum used to say the same thing.”

“I remember that,” Mike said, his eyes changing as he clearly remembered her. “She heard babies crying for
months
before she finally fell pregnant with Harry.”

“Well,” Em said, putting down the cracker she was about to eat. “I’m not risking it. I’ll get Ara to turn me human
after
the wedding. My dress cost a fortune and there is
no
way I’m getting married with a thicker waist!”

Mike laughed. “You’d be perfect no matter what, Em.”

“Yes, but
you
don’t have to think I look perfect.
I
do.”

We all laughed, and Em smiled affectionately at Mike to say she didn’t really mean it. But Mike already knew that. So did I. He was the
only
person she cared about impressing on the day, and we’d had enough arguments so far about the finer details of the wedding to prove that.

I sat back again then and let myself disconnect from the conversations, listening instead to the hum in the room—the feel of the energies, the pulse of their souls, and the undertone of love and friendship that lingered in their voices. Even though this moment would end too quickly—Mike and Em would go back to Oz and Ryan and Alana would continue with their own lives, coming to visit only occasionally—it was nice to have everyone around again, to feel human and to feel normal, doing normal human things. Since Safia’s death, life really had turned around, more than I expected it to. And each day, minute by minute, both David and I were accepting that. Our scars just didn’t run so deep anymore; they were healing on the inside and the out, and the rhythm of normal life—of a six-to-five workday and Saturdays by the lake—had become the beat of our hearts. It was reliable, solid, and consistent enough now to sometimes get boring. It was perfect. Just like this moment.

***

If my life were a novel, it felt as if only a chapter or two had passed since my beautiful daughter came into this world. A year came around almost as fast as she grew, and as Vicki and I strung up crêpe streamers and pink balloons over the Christmas garlands, I had to stop a few times and bite my lip so I wouldn’t cry.

“I was the same when Samuel turned one,” Vicki sympathised. “I think I cried for a week.”

I laughed, wiping my eyes. “She’s too little to be one. Look at her—” I pointed to the chubby little baby sitting in her chair, chewing on a piece of crêpe paper that had carelessly landed on her tray.

Vicki walked over and fished it out of her mouth, wiping it on a pink and yellow Happy Birthday napkin. “Before you know it she’ll be sixteen.” She shook her head at the boys across the way in the den, laughing loudly at their video games. “And you’ll be crying because she’s so much closer to graduation and finding the love of her life.”

I bit my lip as I thought about that part, looking at my little girl and trying to imagine her all grown up, holding hands with the man I chose for her.

The front door burst open then with the blast of wind from outside, and an unnecessarily rugged-up David walked in backward, his arms full of sparkly presents. “Found them.”

“Right where I said they’d be?” I asked, stepping down off the chair, leaving my crêpe streamer half-strung.

“What can I say?” He closed the door with his foot. “I’m a man. I was looking with my man eyes.”

I laughed, taking Elora’s presents from him and laying them on the table. We didn’t need to buy her very much, given that Christmas was only yesterday, but that didn’t stop me from splurging on all kinds of things she didn’t really need or that she probably couldn’t actually play with yet. “When’re Mike and Em getting here?”

“They just called to say there were stuck in a pile of snow.” David laughed. “Mike’s digging them out now, but they might be a few minutes late.”

“What about Falcon?”

“Late too, I’m afraid,” Vicki said from the kitchen. “He’s bringing a surprise for you.”

“For who?” I said.

“For
you
.”

“Me? Why
me
?”

David leaned in and kissed my cheek. “It’s kind of for both of you, I guess—both you and Elora.”

“O…kay,” I said, a bit weirded out. “And what about Morgana? Is she going to be late too?”

David just winced. I took that as a yes.

“Well.” I sat down, my shoulders sinking as I looked up at the pretty party decorations. “I guess that gives me more time to get set up.”

“Yes please,” David said out of nowhere.

Vicki stopped by the coffee pot and looked back at him. “I’ve asked you a hundred times not to do that.”

“Sorry.” He tapped his head. “Force of habit.”

“Well, if you want a coffee, you can
ask
me, like a normal person would have to do.”

“You would have to offer first,” he said smartly, “since a
normal
person wouldn’t have known you planned to make coffee until you actually told them that.”

She just groaned and took the filter out of the coffee pot, shaking it around and scrutinising it before finally tossing it in the trash.

David pulled a chair out to sit down facing Elora’s high chair, and she squealed with expectation, hiding her face behind her Hungry Caterpillar book.

“Does Daddy’s little Princess want to play?” He picked up the book and put it over his eyes, lowering it quickly and springing forward. “Boo!”

Elora’s face lit up and she squealed, thrusting herself back in the chair.

I laughed too, but my smile faded as something in her face reminded me of my own. Which reminded me of Drake. Over a month had passed so far, and his body had steadily continued to rot, leaving no hope that he would ever rise from the dead. It was far-fetched to begin with, I suppose, just a pipe dream. But I couldn’t dull it down or make it go away. It was as if I could
feel
him still—feel his presence around me—and I hoped that wasn’t just because I could sense Lost Immortal souls. He
had
to rise from the dead, because I still needed him.

“Ara?” David said softly, his eyes locked to my face as I looked at him. He reached across the table, palm up, waiting for mine.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m
trying
not to think about it.”

David curled his fingers around mine as I laid my hand in his. “Just think about Elora today—and how much she’s going to love that new doll house you bought her. You know? The one she can’t play with until she’s five or over.”

That brought a smile to my face. I sat back, laughing at myself, and looked out the window for a moment at the powdery snow shrouding the house across the street. “It’s pretty bad out there today.”

“Tell me about it,” David said. “Makes it hard to hunt humans in this weather—everyone stays indoors.”

“Are you hungry?” I offered my wrist. “Or if you want human blood, you can just go bite your brother.”

“He hates it when I do that.”

“And so do I,” Vicki said, sliding the coffee pot into its perch. “He’s got two papers due after Christmas, and every time you feed from him, his iron levels drop and he ends up sleeping for a week.”

David scoffed. “He’s a faker. And he’s got you all figured out, Vicki.”

She just shook her head, as if she knew better. And she probably did, to be honest.

David and I looked up then when she sighed heavily and tossed something into the sink. “How many times do I have to tell hat boy?”

“Let me guess,” I said with a smirk. “Paintbrushes.
Again
.”

She held up a long wooden-handled brush with blue-tipped bristles. “I
knew
he was washing them in here. He denied it, but I saw the paint splatters and I could smell the turps,” she said, tapping her nose. “He can’t hide that from a vampire.”

“Another few years and he’ll be old enough and wise enough to get a place of his own,” David said absently, showing Elora how to spin the toy on her tray.

“That’s not what I want,” Vicki shrieked. “I
love
having him here. But I might have to build him his own bathroom—with a deep sink for paintbrushes.”