The Novel Free

Lies in Blood





I quietly thought about that for a second, seeing how I could easily have taken insult to it but knowing he meant it as a compliment. “I’ll be okay, you know, even when you’re gone, David. I still have Arthur. I know he’ll stay here and help me out as much he can.”



He nodded against the top of my head. “I know. I’ve actually spoken to him about it.”



“About what?”



“About caring for you when I’m. . .” He kissed my hair, squeezing me. “I know you’ll be in good hands.”



I nodded. “And I’ve already picked out my cat.”



“Is that so?” He laughed. “And what kind of cat is it?”



“Skittles.”



“Skittles?” He leaned back to look down at me.



“Yeah. I’m gonna ask Mom and Dad if I can have him.”



He closed us into his hug again. “I’m sure they’ll give you anything you want.”



I smiled, imagining Skittles sitting on the foot of my bed. David would be gone, but it’d be nice to have a little piece of home here with me. As long as I kept Petey out of here.



“Petey will eat that cat as soon as he sees it,” David said.



“Were you just reading my mind?”



“Yes.”



I shook my head, finding only amusement beneath the irritation. Everything in my world just seemed to be back to normal again, even if it was only for five more minutes. It was a blissful five minutes at least. “I love you, David.”



“For forever?”



“For forever.”



The court noisily praised my last ruling as the defendant backed away and blended with the crowd again. Today’s cases had mostly been fun ones, but I knew the next would be hard—to see Eric for the first time in so long and then sentence his friend to some horrific punishment.



A tall figure appeared on the balcony at the back of the room, leaning on the railing as if he was some bystander, a king pretending to be a commoner. I threw a gentle smile his way and looked back down at the accused: a young man with jet-black hair to his ears, piercings in every inch of flesh available, and tattoos like sleeves down his arms that were clearly there before he was turned. It seemed that some mistakes we made in life really did scar us for eternity. I was very glad then that I never snuck out to get that tattoo my friends all had done to mark our clique as one for forever. I cringed just thinking about the possible and eternal ramifications of that mistake.



Walter took centre stage to present Adrian Fernandez, a.k.a. Lice, and informed the court and all its attendants of this man’s indiscretions. I listened as Lice pleaded for mercy, falling to his knees at the base of the stairs, but his cries did nothing to melt my heart.



“You broke the law, Adrian,” I said. “The lead singer of your band is a good friend of mine, but that affords you no exclusions to the rules everyone else has to follow.”



“Please.” He shook his clasped hands in the air. “I won’t do it again.”



“You shouldn’t have done it in the first place.” I looked up at the balcony for a second; David was still there. “If you loved this girl, planned to be with her, I might have understood, but you told her what you are in order to receive attention and praise.”



“Erm.” Walter cleared his throat. “Fellatio.”



I looked at Walter; he was trying not to laugh. “Pardon?”



He cleared his throat again and mumbled, “He did it to receive, er . . . fellatio.”



“Right. Um. . .” I looked at the court again. “Fellatio.”



David coughed into his hand, folding over and turning away quickly to hide his laughter.



“And that girl is now dead because of your ego,” I continued, feeling my cheeks go hot like a stone in the sun. “In this Order, we value all life: human, vampire, and Lilithian alike. There are no exceptions.”



“It was a mistake, Majesty, I—”



“A mistake you won’t make again.” I stood up, straightening my crown. “I make my official ruling, and while it pains me to do this—leaving Eric without a drummer, leaving the world without your musical talents—it is also not my doing. You broke our law, knowing the consequences. I hereby sentence you to a week in the crypt—”



The crowd gasped. Adrian’s hands fell to the floor to hold him up.



“You may have a dose of blood before you’re entombed, given that this is your first offence, but you will have no other comforts.”



“Please?” he cried again as my knights lifted him to his feet.



I held my hand up, a warning to talk no more.



“Please?” he cried again, his hollow voice echoing as the Guard dragged him away, one of the men drawing a syringe of Created venom from his sword belt in case Adrian decided to make a scene. He shut up quickly when he saw it, and walked away with his dignity intact.



In the front row a pair of black eyes met mine. Eric gave a small nod and moved his mouth to say, “It’s okay.”



I didn’t smile back. It was so very good to see him, but when my feet were planted to this stage, in front of hundreds of people from my community, I had to be their queen—I, essentially, had no friends.



I moved my stern gaze away from Eric, all the way across the crowd to Walt’s very surprised face. “Next case, Walter.”



He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes, Your Majesty. Case number fifty-five. Harrison versus Yeardley.”



Above the court, David looked down on all the people, nodding toward me once before slinking back into the shadows. But I heard his voice enter my thoughts, distracting me a little from court as he disappeared, Good job, he said. I’m proud of you.



I smiled at my feet then turned my focus back to the case report.



“Ara.” Eric threw his arms around me.



I hugged him back fiercely. “It’s so good to see you again. How have you been?”



“I’m good, yeah.” He leaned out from the hug. “Band’s doing well. Just released our first album and, well, I’ll have to tell the public that Lice is in rehab or something for the next seven days but, yeah, we’re all good.”



“I feel bad for you, Eric. I know Adri—I mean, Lice, is a friend—”



“No.” He stepped back to stuff his hands in his pockets. “Say no more. He knew the rules.”



I nodded. “And I’m sorry you had to kill that girl.”



He laughed. “Are you kidding? Ara, I’m a vamp—”



“Yeah.” I palmed my head. “Right. I forget you don’t mind a bit of homicide.”



His easy smile brought me back to my hometown for a moment, flooding me with memories. “S’good to see ya again, kiddo.”



“You too, Eric. I missed you.”



He went to speak, but stopped, looking up as David approached. “Hey, man.”



“Hey.” David hugged him, and they both broke into a series of manly back pats. “Long time, man.”



“Yeah.” Eric stood back, allowing room for David to stand beside me. “It’s been a good run. How you been?”



David shrugged. “Been better.”



“Yeah. Tough break, man. I heard about the Dagger.”



David nodded, but quickly pasted a smile in place. “You stayin’ for dinner?”



Eric grinned, looking at me. “Depends what’s on the menu.”



David laughed, wrapping his elbow over Eric’s neck as we walked out of the Throne Room. “We both know what will happen if you ever taste my wife’s blood.”



“Worth the risk,” Eric said.



“On the bright side,” I cut in. “It might just be a way to resurrect you from the dead, David.”



***



“Hey, kiddo.” Eric landed in a lazy heap on the leather sofa next to me, making it squeak with protest, the sound echoing through the library.



“Hey, Eric.”



His cheeky grin spread across his face like a wild party, promising exciting things if only I let myself go with him. “What y’up to?”



“Reading.” I tucked my legs up to one side, leaning more on the arm of the sofa to angle away from him. “And you’re too close for my husband’s liking.”



His smile grew. I didn’t see it, but I felt it. “He’s not here to protest.”



I shut my book. Clearly, Eric was out for some fun tonight or, at the very least, some fun company. “Can’t sleep?”



He shrugged, his shoulders looking kind of bony in that plain back tee. “Haven’t seen ya in ages. Just wanted to catch up without the ‘fold’ around.”



“By fold, you mean. . .?”



“The followers.” He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “The many who love and protect their queen. Most of all, that power-hungry vampire you call a king.”



“Hey.” I backhanded his arm. “That’s my husband you’re talking about.”



“Really?” He sat back, resting his hands in his lap. “Coulda fooled me.”



“What’s that supposed to mean?”



“I mean. . .” He leaned on my thigh to push himself up, then wandered across the room to pore aimlessly over book spines. “He’s changed, Ara.”



“So everyone keeps saying,” I said flatly, dumping my book on the end table. “He’s just under a lot of pressure.”



“So you keep saying.” He waited a few seconds, then turned at the shoulder to flash me a grin. “So . . . what you readin’?”



“Oh, um.” I reached across and laid my notepad over the title of the book. “Just researching.”



“Researching,” he said slowly, as if drawing out the word would prompt an explanation from me.



“Stuff.”



“Stuff, huh?” His whole body bounced with his casual nod. “Aide-Memoire de l’Auress.”



“Hey!” I stood up and grabbed my book from his sudden thieving paws, shoving his chest after.



He took a few steps back, kind of stumbling from the force, and jammed his hands in his pockets, laughing. “Don’t try to hide things from a guy two-times faster than you.”



“You had no right to do that.” I put the book back down on the table he’d stolen it from.



“Then don’t lie to me.” He stepped back into my circle of fury. “Why are you reading that? What happened here while I was gone?”



I pressed my hip distractedly. “Nothing.”



“Nothing?” he said, suddenly beside me again, but this time lifting my top.



I yanked it back down. “Get off.”



“What happened to your skin?”



“Nothing.”



“That’s not nothing, Ara. Come on.” He held both hands out, palms raised. “Talk to me. You know I got your back, kiddo.”

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