“It’s a matter of security, Falcon, to do with information I’ve learned—from David,” I added so he didn’t think I was being easily led. “And he asked me not to let anyone know, not even the council.”
Falcon nodded, taking a step back. “I respect that.”
“But?” I said, waiting for the ‘but.’
“No buts.” He raised both hands. “If you have good reason not to tell me, then just tell me that, Ara. Just tell me you need to take care of some business, and I’ll back off for an hour or so. Okay?”
My face went blank. I could feel it. “Are you being serious right now?”
“I’m running the show here, Ara.” He presented the proverbial show. “Mike might not have trusted you before, but I trust you. I think you’re a very smart girl, and I think you have grown up monumentally in the last two months, and if you say you need privacy for a bit, then I respect that.”
I just wanted to hug him. I nodded once instead, reminding myself that knights are not friends. “Thank you, Falcon.”
He bowed his head, placing both hands behind his back. “You’re welcome.”
I left Falcon in the garden and followed ‘last sighting’ reports from bystanders until I found my wrath-recipient wandering down an empty corridor in the servant quarters. There was no one around at this time of day so, despite the sub-level of the manor not exactly being a cone of silence, it seemed like as good a place as any to bark my fury on the unsuspecting target.
“Morgaine!”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
She watched me walk toward her, growing slightly taller. “I did?”
“The Immortal Damned—the prophecy, which is really a contract. And worse, your lies, David’s lies—all of them have gone so deep you’ve had to convince the entire Lilithian public of the same.” I stopped in front of her, closing the door beside me to block out the white light spilling into the hall. “What are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything, Majesty, and neither is David.”
I bit my teeth together. I knew my face was as stone and hard as the statue of Lilith in the fountain outside, but so was my resolve. She was damn well going to at least confess, or this stone face would be last thing she saw.
“Okay, so I made up a prophecy—”
“That’s a pretty big deal, Morgaine. That’s a pretty frickin’ huge lie to carry all these centuries.”
“I know, but. . .” She made a small gap between her fingers, her neck shrinking into her shoulders a little. “It was just a teensy stretch of the truth.”
I rolled my eyes, dropping my folded arms. “Knowing the conditions in which the lie about the prophecy was forged, Morgaine, I can forgive that. I mean, really, I’m not surprised. None of the prophecy crap ever made sense anyway, but. . .” I angled my head to one side, my open palms rolling outward with my shrug. “You lied to me about the Damned, and maintained that lie all this time.”
“I got scared, Amara.” She brushed her hand down my arm. I jerked away. “Our people have been suffering for centuries. They were locked away, tortured, forced to torture other vampires at Drake’s will. And it was unnatural. We couldn't live that way any longer. Then, after Jason hurt you, I thought you wanted to die. I thought you were going to commit suicide, and I just couldn’t think. I told you there was a way to help the Damned before I even realised what I’d said. And you didn’t even look up at me until I said you could free them. After that, I had to do some pretty darn fast thinking to reshape that lie.”
“So, only you and David know the truth about the Damned—that I can’t, and my child can’t, fix them?”
“Yes. You've not been made a fool of, Ara. It took some work, but I convinced Emily and Mike, too.”
“And what about Arthur? Did you convince him, too? Because he just went right on along with it—even told me he wanted to be free?”
“He wasn’t lying, Amara. He wanted freedom. But not from immortality.”
“Then, from what?”
“From his bind to Drake—an eternal bind.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . he wanted you to use your venom to kill him once all this was over.”
I covered my mouth. “Why?”
“He wants peace: death. He wanted a family, a wife, a normal life, but he will never have that. Joining our fight was his way of setting things right—his penance to God for all the wrong he’s done, you might say. Once the humans and the Lilithians are safe, Amara, he. . .” She looked down at her feet, shaking her head.
I slowly rolled my chin to my chest. “And when were you going to tell me this?”
“I wasn’t. And neither was he.”
“But he promised he’d stay. He—”
“And he will keep that promise to you now, My Queen.” She rushed in and touched my shoulder. “He’s not going anywhere. You gave him new reason to live.”
“Me? How?”
“He loves you, Amara, like the daughter he never had. And he has everything he ever wanted: his nephews are safe and well, away from the plague of Drake’s darkness. He has the lab he always begged for.” She smiled fondly, hugging herself. “And he has a precious little girl to worry and fuss over.”
I smirked. “Precious?”
“You must know he holds you in high regard, Amara. You’re more precious to him than even his nephews, I believe.”
“I doubt that, Morg. But . . . are you sure? I mean, are you sure he doesn’t still want to di—”
“I’m sure.” She nodded once. “He swore to David in his own blood that he’d stay here and care for you after David’s gone.”
“If he wants to protect me so bad, maybe he should kill Drake himself.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This whole thing’s a mess, isn’t it?”
I covered my head with my hands for a second. “Yes.”
“Is there anything I can do to set things right?”
“It would help if everyone in my Council sat down in a room and unveiled all the truths they’ve been hiding, you know, a massive heart-to-heart type of thing.”
“If it would serve the queen well, perhaps you should arrange this.”
I laughed. “Yeah, right. I’m sure everyone will participate equally.”