Lies in Blood
Page 64

 A.M. Hudson

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I laid both hands across it. It was so small it felt only as if I’d exhaled heavily and puffed it out a little. I wasn’t anywhere near as big as my mom when she had Harry. “Are you sure it’s David’s? I mean, this belly is more like a. . .”
“A first trimester belly,” Arthur nodded. “Lilith was the same, so I’m told. At thirty weeks gestation, she barely looked twenty.”
“Oh my God.” I covered my mouth. “I was pregnant when I tried to kill myself.”
“And she’s okay.” Jason pulled my hand gently down from my mouth. “She survived it, Ara. She’s strong, and—”
“You were only a few weeks pregnant when you jumped,” Arthur said. “It is my opinion that the life force in the blood of immortals kept her alive for that few minutes your heart stopped.”
“But the fall alone could’ve—”
“She is well protected inside your immortal body. And she has an immortal body of her own. Even if she did, in fact, die with you, she is clearly as restorable as her mother.”
“Arthur actually thought she was dead.” Jase pointed his thumb at his uncle, half laughing.
“And with good reason, too,” Arthur defended. “Your abdomen was torn open on one side. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that your uterus was enlarged. I wasn’t sure if it was a pregnancy or swelling, but I was bound by time, so I stitched you back up before anyone could notice, and left what I hoped was a child with a fighting chance.”
“When I came in to see you after you woke, the old man let his thoughts slip for a second,” Jase said with a grin. “He was trying to find a way to tell you the baby was dead.”
“Why’d you think it was dead?”
“I’d examined you after everyone left the room—confirmed you were pregnant, but. . .”
“He still couldn’t hear a heartbeat,” Jase said.
I looked at Arthur.
“After Jason’s initial shock about the child’s death, he looked at me as if I’d gone insane and asked why I would tell you the child was dead, when he’d just heard pulses coming from her tiny little brain.”
“Pulses?” I looked at Jase.
“Yeah. They’re the electrical signals all living things give-off. You should know, Ara. You feel it when you walk in the forest, or—”
“When I’m in a room with a vampire.” I nodded to myself.
“Yeah, or a human.”
“And you can sense them, too?” I asked. Jase
“It’s a talent we share.” He grinned. “So, I knew she was still alive. We just . . . we can’t hear her heart beat.”
“Why not?”
“Something to do with your skin, we figure. It not only protects her from savagery, but conceals her, too.”
I laid a hand to my belly. “I’m . . . how come I didn’t sense her?”
“Are you sure you didn’t?” Jase asked, his smile growing.
“I haven’t felt anything—at all. Aside from hungry.”
Arthur and Jason laughed.
“I can’t believe I’m pregnant.”
“It’s pretty good news, huh?” Jase said.
“Yeah, but. . .” The crease on my brow deepened as I looked at Arthur. “Why did you make plans to use the turkey baster if you knew all along I was pregnant?”
He laughed. “I never actually made plans, my dear. I put you off repeatedly, didn’t I?”
I nodded.
“I wasn’t ready to tell you about the child, Amara, because—”
“Because it meant there was no way to save David.”
“Yes. But now it seems we will lose him anyway.”
I looked at Jase. His face was stone white and expressionless. “Jase, what’s wrong?”
“I was so cut up when I realised you were pregnant—when. . .”
“When he realized he’d bedded you for no good reason other than his own primal needs.”
“Uncle, it wasn’t like that,” Jase said.
Arthur stood and moved away.
“So, I was pregnant when we. . .?”
“Yes,” Jase said. “I’m sorry, Ara. You know that if I’d known that, I would never have—”
“I know.” I stole his hand and kissed the knuckles. “What’s done is done. And it’s in the past. None of it matters now.”
“Except that David is still hurt,” Arthur muttered.
“Yes.” I sat up more. “I messed up—bad.”
“Both of us did.” Jase smiled softly at me, squeezing my hand.
“But I can either move on from it, or wallow in it. And I have a baby to worry about now, so I’m sorry, if David can’t forgive and move on, too, even enough to be civil to me, then that’s his loss. Not mine.”
Arthur sat down on the couch across the room. “Then I pray he finds civility before he leaves.”
“Leaves?”
“Ara.” Jase waited until I looked at him. “Arthur’s handing the dagger over to David tomorrow. He—”
“No!” I threw my covers back and leaped out of bed. “He can’t. Not yet. He hasn’t . . . I mean, does he even know?” I clutched my stomach. “Has anyone told him?”
“He knows,” said a dry, cool voice. I looked across the balcony to where the long-legged king leaned sideways against the railing, his arms folded.
“David, please tell me you’re not going to kill Drake tomorrow.”
He looked at his uncle. “Give us a moment.”
“Of course.” Arthur appeared across the room and opened the bedroom door. “Jason?”
Jase sighed, touching my arm as he passed. “I’ll be right outside if. . .” He looked over at David. “If you need me.”
I reached down and squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”
Tension spread around the room then as the door grated in its frame, coming to a complete stop with me on one side, and my protector on the other.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” David muttered angrily. “I may hate you, Ara, but I will not cause you physical harm.”
My shoulders relaxed. “Did you know?” I asked. “Before today?”
He shook his head, his cold stare staying on my face as I moved across the room and stepped out into the white sunlight.
“Guess this explains why none of my jeans fit,” I said, relieved.
“Your jeans don’t fit because you’re fat, Ara. Don’t use pregnancy as an excuse.”
My lips fell apart a little. “David, that’s—”
“Shut up. I didn’t come here to debate your lack of self-worth.” He turned away, leaning his elbows on the marble ledge, the world below his canvas for thought.
“Then why did you come? Just to taunt me?”
“I came to make something very clear to you.”
“Then, by all means,” I said, standing beside him, knowing I was crossing the boundaries by getting this close. “Enlighten me.”
“In exchange for the dagger, I promised my uncle I would stay for the birth of the child.”
I smiled, trying not to laugh with joy.
David pretended not to notice. “But that gives you no right to attempt contact with me. Gives you no right to look at, talk to, or even address me as anything more personal than your king. Do I make myself clear?”
“No. That’s ridiculous, I’m your—”
“You are nothing to me!” He spun around, yelling in my face.
“Well, I may not be, but she is your daughter.” I touched my belly to emphasize her tiny little existence.
He rolled his shoulders back, growing taller inch by inch, his bottom lip coming forward with detest. “A fact I’m forced to accept. And you are lucky she bares my blood—not my brother’s, or I’d have ripped it from your womb.”
“How dare you spea—”
“Easy.” He moved closer. “I care nothing for you, or for it. I am not your husband. I am not her father. I am a man forced by his word to stay and witness something he does not condone.”
“So, you don’t condone your own daughter.”
“That—” He pointed at my belly. “Is no daughter of mine.”
“How can you say that? She has your blood. We made her. She—”
“She was spawned under false pretences, Ara, in a relationship I believed to be love.”
“But it—”
“It was nothing but a lie.” He waved a hand through the air to shut me up. “And she is as tainted as you.”
“She’s innocent, David!”
“Her body was growing in you when you betrayed me.” His voice broke. “I will never touch her. I will never touch you. And I will certainly not accept her as my own.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until my chest shook and a cold tear dropped down, landing on my bare foot.
David looked into me with nothing but hatred in his eyes—not one shred of compassion shining through.
“Why would Arthur make you stay then?” I asked. “If you hate us so much.”
“Because my uncle is hoping that by forcing me to wait for the dagger, I may find it in my heart to forgive you,” he said stiffly, looking down his nose at this sobbing mess. “But he’s a fool.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry, David.”
“For what?” he spat.
“I’m sorry he forced those terms on you. That’s. . .” I shuddered. “That’s really cruel.”
He cleared his throat.
“Thank you, anyway—for stopping by,” I said, going blank-faced after. I wasn’t really sure why I said that. “You can see yourself out, I’m sure?”
He bowed his head once and walked away.
“Oh, and . . . David?”
“What?”
“Please tell Arthur and Jason I’m sleeping now.” I folded over a little, standing tall again quickly. “I’m tired.”
His answering response was a door closed and a wordless, sad nothingness left in his wake. I looked out at the field in the distance, seeing the tip of the lighthouse, thinking back to the first time I saw this place. Nothing about the landscape had changed, yet everything within it was upside-down and no longer fit the way it should. His anger at me went beyond hatred and worse, because of my crimes, he would not only hate me for the rest of forever, but he’d hate our little girl too.
“I’m so sorry, little baby.” I touched my belly, sending my words and all the love I had in my heart through to her. “I’m so sorry.”
The day went so slowly, with me stuck on bed rest, that I read every book in my room before lunch, and found myself trolling the library shelves for more I could read up on about my people and the laws of our society. But a pair of arms suddenly wrapped my neck, stopping me dead in my tracks, Emily’s shrill voice echoing my name in my own ears.