I rubbed my head. “So you had venom, vampire-killing venom, all this time? And you never helped the Damned, or—”
“I don’t care about the Damned, Amara! If I used my venom to help anyone—if Drake used it to help anyone, it would have given me away. The whole mission could've been compromised.”
“So you let them suffer because you wanted your mom back?”
Her jaw went tight, eyes small and sharp. “What would you do, Amara, to bring your mother back?”
“Well, that wouldn’t even be a question if Drake hadn’t killed her!”
“He—” she started, but mashed her lips tightly together and folded her arms like a smug little brat. “It was a means to an end.”
“A means to an end!” I stood up. “A means to an end?”
She stood, too. “Your life means nothing, Amara. You are a means to an end—all of this is. And as soon as that child is born, none of you will exist.”
“That’s where you're wrong,” I said smugly. “Drake swore to leave David on the throne, and that all my friends, my family and my people would be safe for eternity. And. . .” I paused to build suspense, just enjoying this moment: when she found out what else he promised, it would hurt her just as deeply as it hurt me to know my mother died for this cause. “He promised me eighteen years to raise my child.”
“What!”
“You heard me. He has the dagger now, so you won’t be seeing your dead mommy any time soon, Morgana. And, in the meantime, you need to find yourself a new job—and a new home.”
“You can’t kick me out!”
I turned toward the door. “I just did.”
She grabbed my arm and spun me around. “If I leave, people will ask questions. And Drake will just put another spy in place to watch over you.”
My eyes closed involuntarily around the truth.
“Better the devil you know,” she added.
“Fine.” I opened my eyes, hearing the old idiom in my head: keep your enemies close. “Stay. But you’re no longer on my council. Neither is David. And you will move your things out immediately and take them down to Jason’s old room.”
“Old room?” She frowned. “Where’s his new one?”
I rolled my head slowly higher, smirking. “You’re standing in it.”
“But—”
“You have twenty minutes.” I turned on my heel and walked from the room, leaving the door open on my way out.
Life is never lonelier than when you hide a truth that’s weighing you down. I looked across the dinner table at Falcon, then at Jason, just wishing I could tell someone, anyone what Drake had told me. All my council even knew was that Morgaine had been fired for siding with David too often and that we’d recently discovered the Dagger of Yahanna was useless. I didn’t tell them I’d met with Drake and I didn’t tell them I was the living re-manifestation of the former queen’s soul. I did lie and say Jason might have a toxic potion that could kill an original, and that was the only thing that kept them in their seats when they realised David couldn’t. The people, however, would remain under the impression that the dagger was safe and still as useful as before.
With time to think after the meeting today, everything Drake said sunk in bit by bit—pieces I didn’t want to think about rising to the front of my thoughts all afternoon. I wanted to fight—to find some way I could stop him from killing me in eighteen years, but that would mean putting the baby in danger and possibly making Drake angry enough to break our agreement.
But it wasn’t just that. I slumped on my hand. He killed my mom and my baby brother, and he did it because I refused to go to my dad’s that year. If I’d just gone—if I’d just stuck to the plans we made every year, they’d still be alive.
“Baby?” Mike laid his hand over mine.
I looked up from my lap and smiled.
“You okay?” he mimed, not actually speaking.
I nodded, rearranging my napkin in my lap.
“You look like you’re about to cry.”
My stupid chin quivered then. I drew a quiet but jagged breath and forced another smile, catching Falcon’s eye when he looked up. He gave me that look—the one asking what was going on, and when Jason frowned, noticing the exchange then turning his worried eyes on me, I couldn’t help it; a soft breath burst from between my lips, and I sobbed hard at the dinner table, with Mike’s arms suddenly wrapping me, my tears falling onto my plate.
“What’s going on?” David stood and threw his napkin down.
“Uh, just . . . pregnancy hormones,” Emily said casually, running over with her arms flailing about in the air.
A few people laughed affectionately, and I was swept out of the room, not really knowing whose hands were guiding me.
“I don’t know,” Mike said, answering some question I hadn’t heard. “I asked her what’s wrong, and she just. . .”
“Mike, don’t you know? Never ask someone what’s wrong if they look they’re about to cry,” Emily said, sliding her arm around me. “Ara? What happened? Did David—”
“No.” I moved away from her. “David didn’t do anything. I . . . I just needed some air.”
She looked at Mike, and he threw his hands up, backing away. “Girl stuff. Got ya. I’ll leave you to it.”
I wanted to grab him and ask him to stay—wanted to tell him that the woman he grew up with beside me died for no good reason. It wasn't an act of God or Fate. It was murder. Senseless murder. But he would, at the very least, cause a scene over it. No one would understand my anger and agony better than him. But I just couldn't trust him to stay calm if he knew. So, I let him walk away, Em and I smiling as he gave some obviously hilarious explanation to smooth things over back in the Great Hall. David made a smart remark that I didn’t hear, but I also didn’t care what he said about me.
“Ara.” Falcon turned me to face him, closing Emily out of the circle. “What happened?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
He frowned at me, his hands going tighter on my arms for a second, his eyes narrowing in question, slightly flicking on to Emily.
I shook my head. She wasn’t the reason I couldn’t talk.
“Ara,” he said, “You know you can trust me with anything, even if it was something you weren't allowed to tell anyone.”
“Can I trust you not to do anything about it, to act as if I never told you?”
He went to say something, closing his mouth with a little pop after, his shoulders sinking. “Yes. If it’s just an ear you need, of course.”
I turned and glanced back at Emily. “Thanks, Em. I’ll be okay.”
“I get it.” She reversed away. “Not for my ears.”
“It’s for your own protection.”
“More like so I won’t tell David.”
“No, Em,” I started, but she disappeared.
“Forget it, Ara. If that’s the attitude she has, she’s better off outside the circle of trust.”
I nodded. “She’s just got her nose out of joint.”
“Yes, well, she’s also still very close to David. Anything you don’t want him to know, you probably shouldn't tell her.”
“She’d never say anything to him.”
“No, but he can read her mind.”
“Yes.” I looked at my shoes. “I really hate that ‘special connection’ they have.”
Falcon laughed through his nose. “It’s pretty odd. Drives Blade crazy, too.”
“Has he told her, yet—that he’s. . .”
“No,” he said, his lips staying in the shape of the O for a bit too long. “And you’d better not say anything, either.”
I crossed my heart. “I won’t.”
“Good. Now—” He laid his hand firmly on my shoulder, almost like a gentle slap. “What’s got you so upset?”
I looked back into the Great Hall. “Not here. Okay?”
“Okay. Bedroom.”
We walked in silence up to my room and, once there, Falcon barely even shut the door before I broke down and told him the whole story—everything I needed off my chest and everything I wasn’t allowed to tell him, even about Morgana. I let it all pour out.
And he just stood there while I paced back and forth, holding as still as a statue until I finished and looked at him, tears streaming down my cheeks and said, “So? What do I do?”
“I—” He stumbled clumsily backward and sat down on my blanket box, rubbing the tops of his thighs. “Ara, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where to start.”
I wiped my face, just waiting for a word of wisdom or maybe even comfort.
“Have you told David any of this?”
“No.”
“And you won’t?”
“No.”
“Mike?”
I laughed. “God, no.”
He laughed, too, then stood up and wandered over, drawing me in for a very needed hug. His big hand squeezed my hair flat to the back of my neck while the other rubbed my back, just leaving everything unsaid for a few moments. “You poor kid.”
I sunk into him a bit more then, drying the corner of my eye on his shirt.
“I just . . . I’m so sorry he killed your mom.”
“Me too.”
“But. . .” He looked down at me, leaving his hand on the side of my neck. “You know that’s not your fault, right?”
“But I—”
“No.” His grip tightened. “Drake chose to kill her. Drake lost Anandene and he created a contract, and everything he has done in pursuit of that is on his head, Ara, not yours. You did not do this.”
“I want to believe that, but if I’d never—”
“Then believe it. Because if I thought you were to blame, I’d tell you that, counsel you on that. But you’re not. No matter how much you convince yourself, Ara, you didn’t kill her. You were a spoiled teenage brat, but that wasn’t the reason she died. Drake was the reason.”
“Yeah, to force me into Dad’s custody.”
He shook his head. “Stop trying to lay blame where it won’t fit.”
I stared at the floor, reversing the situation in my head. What would I say to him if this were his problem? “You’re right. You are. I know you are. The fact is, Drake ordered her death, like she was some pawn. And he needs to pay.”
“Yes, he does.”
“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna go over there right now, and I’m—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, little lady. Let’s not go that far just yet.” He steadied me with a stop-sign hand. “Control those crazy pregnancy hormones.” He laughed, making me laugh a bit, too. “You have nothing to back you here. If you go against him, he’ll take your soul and give it back to Lilith. He has the dagger, remember.”