Lies in Blood

“It’s clearly not working.” I ducked as he lunged toward me again, then took a quick side step at the cliff wall and darted down the beach in the other direction, leaving Jason face down in the sand, laughing. “You’re enjoying this chase a little too much, I think,” I said, stealing a glance to see how far away he was, but my face hit the rock hard centre of his chest instead, and I fell back on my hands, dropping the stone somewhere in the sand.



“You’re not trying very hard, Ara.” He stood above me, his eyes scanning the yellow grains around the circumference of my body.



“That’s the sad part.” I got up on my hands and knees and sifted through the sand. “I actually am.”



“If you’re hoping to find it before I do, I wish you luck.” His voice was littered with amusement; his arms crossed over his baseball shirt, with the cuffs of his jeans wet and folded up above his bare feet. He was waiting for me to find it, I just knew, and it was either so he could steal it and win his kiss, or to prompt me to use this power he was sure I had. But I just wasn't that convinced he was even right. “Which is why you ran in the first place,” he said smugly.



“Shut up, Jason.” I felt a stone pass under my fingertips, and moved my hands opposite it to throw him off. “Just because you’re a scientist, doesn’t mean you know everything.”



“I’m not just a scientist, Ara.” He knelt down and dug into the sand right by my heel, standing up again with the stone in hand; I sat back on my thighs, gasping silently. “I’m a century-old vampire who has seen the birth of every scientific and medical advance in the most significant age of science known to man, and I know—” He held up the stone, “—exactly what I’m talking about.”



I stood up, dusting my hands off on my dress. “What do you want, Jason? Is this whole thing really just so you can get a kiss from a married woman?”



He smirked at the stone between his fingertips, his eyelids thinning into smaller slits until they closed and the stone rose above his palm, floating mid air. “Open your hand.”



“Why?”



Emerald green shone out as he looked directly into me. “Open your hand, Ara.”



I slowly rolled my palm flat, and the stone wandered across the space between us and landed gently there like an invisible man had moved it.



“I don’t need to play games to steal a kiss. In fact, I don’t need to steal a kiss, and let me make one more thing clear to you, Ara-Rose. I don’t want to kiss you.”



I swallowed, closing my fingers over the stone, the cool wind whipping my hair and shawl outward toward the cliffs.



“I am here to help you,” he continued. “To help my brother, and anything I have ever done in contradiction since I came to this manor was purely in either yours or his best interests. I may love you, Ara—” He stepped closer, cupping my tight fist. “But that love only gives me perfect reason to do anything to avoid my lips touching yours, because the repercussions of that kiss would not just affect me, they’d affect David and, in turn, you.”



The lump in my throat wouldn’t shift. He was right. But he had won that kiss fair and square, except I knew it wouldn’t end on this beach. Falcon would see. I would know it happened and, when David found out, which he would because I’d tell him, Jason would be on stable duty for the next year, if David was in a good mood.



I tried not to look at him, but his eyes were locked onto mine, holding me to his gaze, his thoughts centring on the moment our lips would touch—after so, so long.



“You owe me a kiss,” he said softly, and his fingers closed around mine, making my skin burn, gradually getting hotter and hotter like water on a stove.



“What are you doing to me?”



“Helping you find your will to fight.” He took the last step into me and cupped my chin, rolling my face upward so our lips aligned, leaving just an inch and a warm breath between us. I couldn’t feel the ice on the wind anymore, didn’t care that Falcon was behind us or that the ocean tide had moved in as we stood here, getting dangerously close to our feet. The only thing I felt was the roiling cloud of fear in my gut, swirling and thickening at the taste of his breath, sparking the memory of his smooth lips. I couldn’t do it, though. I knew he was waiting—knew he was respectful enough to make it my choice, on my honour. But I couldn’t keep my word. And it wasn’t because David would tear Jason apart if I did, but that the reason David would do it is because the kiss would hurt him more.



“Jase?” I lowered my weight back onto my heels, but stayed close to him—chest to chest, hand to hand, faces angled for a kiss, and the heat in my palm seared around the stone. “You’re hurting me.”



“I’m not doing that,” he said smugly, laughing a little as he looked down at my hand. My fingers were bright pink, small clouds of steam billowing up through the cracks between them, while the scent of melting flesh made my nose twitch. “That’s incredible.”



“Jase, I mean it. It hurts. Stop it.”



He pulled his hand away, stepping back, but the burning intensified. “Only you can stop it, Ara.”



I looked down at my hand: the fist was fused shut by melted flesh, my whole arm shaking violently. “Jase,” I said, panic rising in my tone. “Please. I don’t know how to make it stop.”



“Drop the stone.”



“I can’t.” My hand wouldn’t open.



“Okay.” He took a step closer and the heat raged, as if his skin, his breath, maybe his soul, set the rock in my hand alight. “Ara, fun’s over. Drop it.”



“I can’t.” I cried out, landing on my knees in the sand, digging and scraping at my hand to force it open. “What is this stone?”



“It’s just a rock.” He knelt beside me. “Just a normal rock from the ground.”



“Why is it so hot?” I practically screamed.



“Your blue light, sweet girl. You’re on defensive—”



“Don’t,” I yelled as he reached for my hand. “You’ll make it worse.”



“Just let me—Ah!” He folded in on himself, his face going bright red. “Ara, stop!”



“Just get away from me,” I said, pretty sure I’d just zapped him without meaning to.



“I—” He tried to stand, tried to walk away, then sunk to his knees. “Ara, stop!”



I glanced up quickly to see him curled into a ball a few feet away. But I hadn’t done anything to him. He’d probably just stepped on a jellyfish or something, or maybe he felt the heat, too, as if my electric light had surfaced without colour and hit him hard. But I didn’t care. I needed to concentrate, needed to focus to get this stone out of my hand.



I phased Jason, the waves, the wind, the world, out, and imagined that the stone in my hand was just an ice cube, that the heat would melt it. “Focus, Ara. Focus,” I mumbled and, all around me, a shimmer of blue light parted the shadows, taking the warmth around the stone and sending it through my entire body, leaving my palm cool and tingly and suddenly free.



I unfolded my fingers, rolling my hand to tip the small droplet of water and the pile of sand grains onto the ground by my knee. The melted flesh bubbled and bled, then healed over, leaving the skin smooth and supple again.



My lungs expanded, contracting slowly as the long breath I exhaled cooled my limbs. “I melted it,” I said to Jason, my eyes filled with wonder, but his deep, almost restless groan snapped my thoughts back to the agonized screams still ringing in my ears. “Oh, my God. Jase!”



“Ara.” He rolled into a tighter ball, cradling his arm in the circle of his body. “Get help.”



“Jason. Why?” I touched his hip to roll him over, but my presence startled him; he raised his wrist to block me, revealing the twisted, awkwardly bent position of his other arm: the wrist had snapped back one way, the forearm broken clean in half, his arm held on only by a thin thread of flesh that refused to give way. My first instinct was to rush in and help, but my body took over, sending my hand to my mouth to cover the scream.



Falcon appeared beside me, quickly sizing up the situation, but as he bent down to help the injured, even he drew back in blood-chilling shock. “Vampire’s bones don’t break,” he said, grabbing my arm to move me away. “What have you done to him?”



“I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands, covering my face with them after. “I don’t know.”



“Run, Ara.” He pointed up the steep steps. “Get Arthur.”



“Why is he laying like that?” I cried instead.



“His arm’s broken.” Falcon knelt beside Jason to take a look. “He needs help. Go!”



Jason groaned, barely able to catch a breath, obviously suffering more agony than he’d ever felt. Despite every ounce of damage I’d ever seen him endure, this was, by far, the worst.



“Jase?”



“Now, Ara!” Falcon yelled.



***



I reached out and grabbed Arthur’s arm as he shut the bedroom door. “How is he?”



“He’s fine.” He placed his medical kit on the ground by his feet and let out a breath through his nose, pulling me in for a very needed hug. “He wants to see you.”



“Did he tell you how it happened?” I asked, stepping back.



“He did.” Arthur nodded, his distant eyes finding a smile a few seconds later. “Telekinesis, huh?”



“I. . .” I looked down at my hands. “I guess so.”



Arthur just shook his head, bending at the knees to pick up his bag, and walked away, shaking his head as a long whistle left his lips, carrying the sound of amazement down the hall with him. But I wasn’t amazed, or surprised. I’d nearly ripped off the entire arm of a vampire, whose bones were like iron-coated cement. How on earth did I manage to hurt him that way?



“Ara?” Jason called, a mildly impatient tone coming out through the wooden door with his voice.



I pushed it open and poked my head in, showing my teeth in an apologetic grin.



“Stop it,” he said, reaching his good hand out. “You don’t need to apologise.”



“Yeah, but. . .” I nodded at his arm in its sling, closing the door with my foot. “I also kind of do.”



He looked down at the broken appendage and just smiled. “Well, one thing I can safely say is, I have never ever felt so much pain, physical pain, in all my vampire life, Ara.”



“Oh, don’t.” I covered my ears. “I already feel bad enough.”



“Well, I’m sure some people around here would praise you for it.” He offered a timid smirk, to which I replied with a pout. “Take a seat,” he said and patted the bed. “I want to show you something.”



I sat down, eyeing the brown leather-bound journal tucked in beside his leg.