“That’s bullshit, Ara, and you know it.”
“Hu!” I huffed and followed him toward the manor. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you don’t know how to control yourself when it comes to your heart.”
I bolted—Lilithian speed—and stood in front of him, blocking his path. “My heart?”
His eyes shifted before stopping on the ground by his feet. “You think you want something until you get it, Ara—which, by the point you realise it’s not what you wanted, you’ve already destroyed it.”
My stomach dropped. “Mike? Is this about Arthur—or about you?”
He stared at me for a second then looked away with a sigh, shaking his head.
“Mike?” I grabbed his forearm and tugged until he looked at me.
“This is about nothing, except the safety and freedom of our people, Amara. If you fall for Arthur through some twisted, artificial love the blood lust causes you to feel, you could be putting this whole operation in jeopardy.”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Okay, Mike. I already told you—I don’t want his blood. It tasted old and dry.” I pretended to wipe it away from my mouth as though that was true, when all I really wanted was to feel it against my tongue again.
“You’re so stubborn, Ara.” Mike pushed past me. “You could just say you won’t drink it because you think I’m right.”
“It’s not true, though.” A wide smile forced itself onto my lips. I hid it before I walked beside him again.
“Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway. I stand by what I said. If I catch you alone with him—” he pointed at me, “—you are in big trouble. Clear?”
“As a bell.” I nodded. But I think we both knew I wouldn’t listen. I’d stay away from Arthur’s blood, but he was quickly becoming the only friend I could truly confide in. There was no way I’d give that up to ease Mike’s baseless fears.
The ring tone had a kind of homely sound to it, and I hoped with all my heart that David would pick up, but when Emily’s sweet voice came down the line, I wasn’t really that surprised.
“Hi, Em.”
“Ara! Hi. How’s things at the manor?”
“Great. Hey, um, is David around?”
“Uumm.” I could almost hear her clearing her throat. “No.”
“Liar. Put him on.” I laughed.
“I—I can’t, Ara.”
“Why?”
She went quiet, aside from voices muffled by what I assumed was a palm over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Fine,” she said, not to me. “Um, Ara?”
“Still here.”
“He’s…he went to the store about twenty minutes ago. Sorry. I forgot. But I’ll have him call you back when he get’s in.”
“Emily.” My voice broke.
“Seriously. He’s not here, okay.”
“Come on, Em. I’m not stupid.”
She sighed heavily. “Look, thing is…he kind of doesn’t want to talk right now.”
“Why?”
“He’s…well, I actually don’t really know.”
“Is he mad at me?”
There was a pause. “No.”
“Does he hate me?”
She laughed. “Of course not.”
“Then…I don’t really understand. Why won’t he talk to me?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Em? I really miss him. I just want to say hello.”
“Okay, well, I’ll talk to him, okay—maybe he’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay.” I frowned to myself. “Um, can you at least tell him I love him and…and that I’m sorry for the argument we had the other day.”
“Sure. I’ll tell him.”
“Okay. Um. Thanks.”
“Bye, Ara.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone and ditched it onto my bed, throwing myself down on top of it.
Chapter Four
The soulful tunes I set out to play had been left behind somewhere in my room. I sat in the pale light coming in through the giant window by the piano and played what was in my heart—which, when translated into notes, sounded like a doleful memorial.
“Oh—” a high-pitched voice said from the side of the room, “—don’t you know any pleasant melodies, Your Majesty.”
“I do,” I said, calming slightly as I looked up at the woman. “I'm just too angry right now to play something sunny.”
“Hm.” She nodded, reaching high to dust the top of the mirror beside the piano. “Troubles of the heart?”
Hesitantly, I nodded, taking in her aged face and short, white-grey curls; she had a kind of ‘nanny’ look about her. “I don't like arguing with people. It makes me feel uneasy, and then when I can’t resolve it, I feel like I’ve been tied up.” I dropped my hands from the keys. “I just can’t think straight when I'm upset.”
She sat down beside me, her plump form taking up most of the piano stool. “Know what I do when I can't clear my head?”
I shrugged.
“I take a stroll out to the lighthouse, climb the stairs and watch the waves talking to the shore.” She smiled at something distant. “Ever since they first erected that lighthouse in fourteen-oh-two, it’s been my go-to place.”
“You’ve been here that long?”
She nodded. “I was human back then, but, yes, I’ve been here some years now.”
“Years? That’s more than years.”
She nodded again, thoughtful. “Time passes differently here. Feels like only yesterday young Lilith was running these halls.”
I sighed, imagining Lilith as a child, but with everything else occupying my head, her face faded quickly, leaving only my troubles. “How do I get to the lighthouse? No one will show me the way.” I closed the cover on the piano.
“Go out here and through the garden to the left.” She pointed to the big doors. “There’s a dirt road leading through the forest. Follow that to a clearing and go down the hill. You’ll see the lighthouse from quite far off. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” I said and stood up. “And, um, I didn't get your name.”
“Kitty, lovely. Kitty Jomane-lonique.”
I extended my hand and she shook it softly. “Nice to meet you, Kitty.”
“Pleasure is all mine, Princess.” She bowed her head and took to another room, leaving me alone again in the shadows of a newly-forming day.