“We can all use a little encouragement sometimes.”
“By fighting those weaker than us?”
“Weaker than you,” he said, and laughed. “But I wouldn’t be so sure you’ll win, baby. These guys might be human, but they’re Special Ops, most of them. They’re damn good at what they do.”
“Oh, joy,” I said. It felt good to be walking outside with Mike again, in the open air of the cool, shady day. It reminded me of bush walking back home in Oz. And Mike had a bounce to his step when walking on uneven ground, like he laid his foot down heavily, not calculating the surface at all. It was so human, so unlike David, who was so used to walking with the grace of a vampire he couldn’t even pretend to be as clumsy as a human anymore. Mike hadn’t lost that yet, and I really appreciated that about him right now.
“So, you know when we drove in on the driveway that leads to the manor?” Mike asked.
“After or before the big, scary gates?”
“After.”
“Yep.”
“Well, there’s a side road that takes you down to the training hall, and in the distance, about two minutes Lilithian-style run, is the barracks.”
“Where you spend all your time?” I grinned.
“Yup,” he beamed.
“I can’t believe the weather today,” I noted, looking at the murky sky. “It was so sunny yesterday—what’s with all this rain?”
“Hmp,” Mike laughed softly. “Probably to do with your mood.”
“My mood?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you ever noticed how, when you’re sad or upset or angry, actually, even happy—not that that happens often—the weather seems to change?”
“Uh, what, like I’m a mood-stone?”
He shrugged. “I know you’re moo-dy. But, I don’t know, I was thinking about it a few days ago—it’s just something I’ve noticed since I first came to America to stay with you. It’s not all the time, which is why I thought nothing of it ‘til now. But it seems to be happening more often.”
“Trust you to notice something so trivial,” I scoffed.
Mike laughed again, placing a supportive hand to my lower back as we splodged down a mildly slippery slope of grass. “When it comes to you, my pretty little princess, it’s my job to notice everything.”
“Fine. I’ll pay that—but the weather? That’s just weird.”
“Didn’t say it made sense.”
“Well, I hope you’re wrong.”
“Why? It’d be cool. If we want a sunny day, we’ll just bring David out to the manor.”
I smiled, and right at that moment, the sun shone down on a building in the distance, lighting up its red roof and white bricks.
Mike stopped walking, his brow lifting over a smug grin. “See?”
I cleared my throat. “Coincidence.”
He laughed softly and we started walking again. “So, that building under the spotlight of your joy—” he paused; I rolled my eyes. “Is the training hall.”
“It doesn’t look big enough to hold five hundred fighting soldiers.”
“It’s not for the entire Core. We train the Queen’s Guard there. The rest train at the barracks.”
“So, how many are in there right now?”
“The entire Guard. Fifty men of the highest skill and qualification. They stand watch around the manor to protect the queen and only the queen. The rest of the Core are having the morning off.”
“So, who are the four knights you always talk about—Blade and Falcon and that?”
“They’re your Private Guard. Personally appointed to be by your side at all times.”
“Whoa.” I stopped walking. “At all times?”
“Yup.”
“No way, Mike. I don’t need that kind of protection. I’m not the goddamn president.”
“No, exactly. You’re the queen—of a nation of killers, Ara. You need to be protected at all times.”
“No. I don’t. I need to live, Mike. I’m not having those guys follow me around everywhere I go. Especially not here at the manor. We’re heavily guarded enough as it is.”
“Mm-hm.” He kept walking.
“Mike? I mean it.”
“I know.”
“Mike!” I ran after him. “Damn it! You better not have them follow me.” But it was stupid to even say that. Of course he would, and once those men were turned into Lilithian knights, there’d be no knowing if they were following me.
“Nervous,” Mike said, turning to me.
“Don’t pretend you’re not in my bad books, Michael.”
He laughed, the warmth of his sexy grin making his whole face cuter. “I really don’t care, Amara-Rose. You will do as you’re told. Like it or not. So you can chuck a tantrum, go ahead, it won’t change things.”
“Oh, I don’t need to throw a tantrum.” I folded my arms. “I’ll find some other way to make your life hell.”
“Breathing pretty much covers that,” he joked, and I scoffed. We walked past the tall windows of the rectangle building then, but couldn’t see inside because the white glare of the sun reflected back the image of a short girl walking through a grassy field beside a bulky man.
He led me around to the front of the building, still smiling smugly, not saying anything. As we stood by the open entrance—about four doors wide—I took a breath to steady my heart.
“Baby?”
“What?” I shuffled my feet, my gaze on my shoes.
“Ara?” He took my hand; I looked up at his caramel eyes. “You know I was joking, right—about the annoying me by breathing thing?”
I let my shoulders relax a little, smiling. “Course I do, Mike.”
“What’s wrong then? Why have you got that pouting lip?” He ran the tip of his finger over it.
“I’m just nervous, I think. You know what I’m like in public.”
His hand tightened on mine. “Well, I’ll be here with you. And don’t think of them as strangers—think of them as family. We’re all very close. In fact—” he looked into the room behind him, then grinned, “—we have a bonfire night coming up. Maybe you should come. It’d be a good chance for you to get to know some of the men.”
“Yeah? Am I allowed to go to things like that, you know, Core gatherings?”