The Heart's Ashes
Page 122

David and I ducked around the side of the house—fleeing our own wedding.
“Go upstairs—” David shoved me softly. “Get changed. Be quick.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, Ara!”
My heart thudded. “Why are yelling at me?”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” David wrapped me tightly in his arms. “I’m sorry—it’s just, the Council. They’re coming. They found us.”
“Where are they?” I searched the yard frantically.
“Jason says they’ll be here within the hour—we have to go.”
“Forget getting changed then.” I grabbed his arm, then stopped; “Wait—what about my dad?”
“They won’t touch him. Emily will stay here to make sure.”
“But they’ll find out about her!”
“And she’s willing to risk that, Ara. They’ll just request she reports, that’s all. She’ll need to join a Set for a few months until we return from Paris.”
“And Jason, where’s he?”
David nodded to a car, parked sideways on the verge. “He’s waiting to take us somewhere safe.”
“And you trust him?” I asked.
“He would have no reason to warn us—then hurt you.”
Then why are alarm bells going off in my head? “Take this for me, then? Just in case.” I slipped off my sliver bangle.
Hesitantly, David accepted it, but his soul sunk into a bloodied vat of heartache, and projected the pain out through his eyes.
“I’m sorry, David. I’d just hate for anything to happen to it.”
He shook his head and stuffed the bangle in his pocket. “Come on, let’s go.”
It wasn’t necessary, but I understood his sudden authoritative vampire need to protect me, so dragging me along by my arm was an acceptable method of moving me faster. I’d slap him for it later.
“Hop in.” He opened the car door, practically shoved me in then slid in the backseat beside me, slamming the door.
“We clear?” Jason said.
David glanced over his shoulder. “Clear.”
“Ready then?” Jason asked, revving the engine.
“Jason, just go!”
“What will they do,” I asked, feeling my stomach in my ribs with the speed of the car forcing me back in my seat, “—when they get there? Will they hurt anyone?”
“No,” Jason stated factually. “It’s not your family they’re after. They won’t make a scene.”
“Won’t they kill them—to get to us?”
“No.”
“How can you be so sure?” I asked, sitting forward.
“Stop worrying about that now, Ara.” Jason made my heart jump when our eyes met in the rear-view. “David, buckle her in. If we crash—”
“I can take care of my own girl, Jason,” David said, but grabbed the seatbelt and forced me into place, buckling it.
Jason smiled smugly and winked at me; I laughed under my breath, looking away from the mirror.
“What’s the plan, then?” David sat forward and gripped the shoulders of the front seats.
“We need to call Arthur. Do you have a phone?”
“No.” David patted his pockets then looked out the back window. “I must’ve left it behind.”
“Pay phone.” Jason screeched the car to a halt by the side of the road. “Tell him to meet us at your New York apartment.”
“Okay.” David swung the door open and stopped as his foot touched the ground. “Ara, my love—” he took my hand, “—I’m so sorry about this.”
I swallowed the intense grief of a ruined wedding and tried to smile as he kissed the lone silver band on my finger; I never got the chance to get my engagement ring back off Dad. The anguish in my soul, I knew, was on my face, but looked worse in David’s eyes, so I swallowed and nodded, forming a speech of reassurance inside me. “We’re together, David—that’s all that matters, right?”
His answering smile warmed my heart. “I love you. I’ll just be a sec.”
“Okay.”
The door clunked shut and the cool of spring disappeared behind the glass. The car idled quietly.
“Are you okay?” Jason asked, smiling softly when I looked at him.
“Not really.”
“Here.”
I reached for the white tissue in his hand and dabbed it along my lower lashes. Across the road, David stood in the phone booth, agitatedly hanging up and dialling again.
“Ara.”
I looked up at Jason again.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For this.” The tyres squealed as the car kicked into gear and threw me back as we sped down the road.
“What are you doing!” I screamed and unlatched my seatbelt, jumping to my knees on the back seat; “David!” I called, tapping my palms on the glass of the rear window.
He was already running; his speed increased as we came to the corner, the car swerving to make the turn, but as he bent to make a leap toward us, a man on the sidewalk crouched and suddenly pounced through the air like a cat on a mouse—pinning David to the bitumen. Their bodies became a wash of blurred colour and thrashing limbs until David shot up out of the hold and started running again.
“Run. David, run!” I slapped the back glass, my heart pleading with hope.
The man chased him, flanking his heels, and David charged forward, driven by a deeper need. But as he reached for the fender, our eyes locking for one second, several men came up out of nowhere and tackled David to the ground again, the huddle becoming smaller as we drove farther and farther away.
“Let me out!” My teeth vibrated in my head with the force of my kick to the back of Jason’s seat.
“No.”
“Yes,” I squealed. The door handle seemed disconnected; I tugged harder but it wouldn’t open, so I smashed my elbow against the window, repeatedly. “Let me go!”
“Stop doing that—you’ll hurt yourself.”
“Let me out!”
“No,” he said and the car screeched around another corner, leaving David at the mercy of his captors.
“Why are you doing this?” I sobbed, my voice deep and shaky.