"No. I don't want you to touch me."

"You need to see this," he said, breathless. "You need to know what you're dying for."

"Why?"

"Why?" His voice broke, tears coating his eyes. "Because it matters."

And a small part of me actually felt a pang of pity for him then. I held my breath, listening for the voices in the distance calling my name. All I wanted was to run to them, to get away, but I exhaled slowly and looked deep into the eyes of my captor. "Let it go, Jason."

He pressed his thumbs under my eyes, holding me in place; the indentation of his grip suggesting that movement might result in a cracked skull. "Take a deep breath, Ara."

"Please-don't." As his icy touch sent a stinging jolt through my cheek, I jerked back, wriggling like a fish on a hook; I pushed my wrists down on his forearms, merely making his grip tighter. "Get off me, it hurts."

"I know."

"Please-" I tugged at his thumbs. "Please stop."

"Close your eyes," he ordered. "It will hurt less."

A whimpering cry shook the back of my throat; I swallowed hard, scrunching my eyes tightly over the hot, stinging tears, and drew a quick breath instantly when I saw a girl-as bright as the sun in the day. She looked like a memory, one that didn't belong to me, but clear as a reflection.

"Rochelle, Rochelle, Rochelle," a man said, standing over her where she cowered in the corner, her head in her arms. His feet parted enough that I could see her bare toes, her golden legs, and honey blond hair falling over her shoulder. She looked just like Emily.

"Yes." Jason's grip eased and the stinging in my face turned numb and cold. "She did. Will you sit still now?"

As I nodded, the film became clearer; the girl looked up-her eyes round with fright, her whole body convulsing uncontrollably.

David knelt beside her and softly ran his fingers down her arm, taking her hand, then kissed it. "Such a pretty little thing. It's a pity you had to cry, Rochelle-you really are repulsive when you snivel."

She buried her face again, her delicate, feminine voice so high, so frightened. "Please. Please let me go."

He smiled softly. "I will. I just have to do something first."

"W-what?" even in a quiet voice, her French accent was so thick.

His hand slid along her ankle, up her leg, coming to rest on her knee. "If you promise to lie still, I will be gentle."

"No. Please!"

"Don't beg, Rochelle." He unfastened the top button on her dress, parting the collar. "It won't hurt for long."

"Va te faire foutre, trouduci." She spat on him.

"You dirty little whore!" He thrashed the back of his hand across her chin with lip-splitting force.

I squealed, covering my mouth as she did.

"Shh." Jason squeezed my face. "You'll expose our position to your little hunting party."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Just watch." He pushed my mind closer to the memory: David lowered his face to the girl's and whispered something in her ear, turning her cheek to lick the blood from it after.

My chest tightened.

"Your taste does not really appeal to me," he said.

"Then let me go."

"I would, if you were merely my next meal, but I'm here for another reason."

"What reason?"

"My brother does not have the courage to do what must be done." He ran his finger down the opening in her dress, smoothing it off her shoulder. "This is not personal, Rochelle. It's just business."

"What must be done?" I said. "What?"

"Please?" she shrieked. "Please don't, David, I'm p-"

"Shh." He covered her mouth, slipping behind her, cradling her spine to his chest. "It will be over soon."

She hummed her aversion in the back of her throat, tugging at his hand.

"It hurts more if you fight, Rochelle," he whispered into her hair, meticulously rolling her head to expose the vein on her neck. "I'll try not to enjoy this."

"David, no!" my squeal broke off as he sank his teeth in, yanking the girl's head back until a bone broke through her collar. I covered my face, trying to hide from the reality.

"No. You must see."

"Please, no, Jason. Please don't make me watch."

He ripped my hands from my face. "You will watch."

As I looked back into the memory, David looked up, his eyes meeting mine-disturbing the core of my soul with the ferocity behind them-tearing out my every ill-conceived notion that he was once human inside. I hated him then, as I saw the monster he'd warned me about so many times-I hated him.

I sobbed loudly, watching his victim fall limp in his arms, her last breath releasing in a whisper, "David?"

He moved closer.

"I'm pregnant."

I drew back, frozen, unable to think; my heart pounded in my chest as the realisation of the loss that could never be retrieved flooded my angry heart, bringing a cascade of tears down my cheeks.

Rochelle faded.

David dropped her lifeless corpse to the floor, letting her head hit the ground, her neck twisting awkwardly as she fell-then stood up and walked away. His heavy black boots were the last thing I saw in the memory before reality washed in like cold water on my face, making me jump inside. "Jason," I cried through deep, breathless sobs. "I'm so sorry."

All I could see was her face as she tried to beg David-heartless, merciless, and unrelenting David-for her life.

Jason wrapped his arms around his knees and crossed his ankles where he sat on the grass beside me. "This is the pain I've lived with for too long. Do you see now?"

"I don't want to see it." I rolled forward, rooting my trembling hands to the grass, my soft curls sticking to the tears around my lips. "Please get it out of my head."

"I can't. You own it now."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't believe what I'd just seen. "Why? Why did he kill her?" I asked.

"She carried another soul inside her."

"The baby? He killed her because she was pregnant?"

He nodded once. "At the preliminary hearing, he claimed he was keeping the peace-ridding the world of an unauthorized half-blood."

"Did he...was he ordered to do that?"

"No. He took it upon himself."

"Then how do you know that's why he killed her? How do you know it wasn't an attempt to change her-so you could keep her?"

Jason stiffened. "He tried that one. Outside the council chamber, alone, he told me he meant it as a surprise-that he lied to the Blood King about his reasons to avoid punishment."

"Then, why didn't she change?"

"Even if he was speaking the truth-even if he meant to change her, only one soul can be immortalised, or they will both die."

"So, then, maybe he didn't know she was pregnant?"

"My brother is not ignorant, Ara, you know this."

I exhaled. He was right. David always had the upper hand. Always. Nothing got past him. "You loved her-like he loves me?"

The grip around his knees tightened. "She was everything to me; fifty years has passed, and that has not changed."

"But...now you're planning to do the same thing to David. Don't you know what I am to him?"

He studied my face with repugnance. "Yes, and I will take that from him."

My head rocked from side to side in astonished, intensely maddening disbelief. How could my David be capable of such horror? "I know it means nothing to you, Jason, but...I am so, so sorry," I whispered with a focused, watery stare.

"You're right. It changes nothing," he said irresolutely. "Now you know why you must die."

"Ara!"

I looked up to the sound of that voice; Mike-he was close-so close that if I dared to scream, he'd find me.

Without warning, Jason swept me from the wet grass and threw me over his shoulder. All the blood rushed into a tight pulse in my lips and cheeks, making it hard to see, leaving only the whipping breeze as evidence to the ground moving beneath us. I didn't care if he took me away, though. I hung limply over my captor, unable to feel anything anymore. All I could see were Rochelle's eyes in her last moments-the fear, the desperation for her life and that of her unborn child-while a soft whisper repeated from my lips, "David. How could you?"

Chapter Thirty-Three.

We broke through into a clearing and a dense, shadowy darkness overtook. The only lights around were a thousand twinkling stars in the sky and the distant glow of the Masquerade; pink, like the last drop of sunlight on the horizon.

Jason set me down in the long grass, my bare toes sinking into the dewy soil. I hadn't even noticed my shoes fell off until now.

The voices of the hunters-the ones searching for me-were as faint behind the height of the towering trees around us as the soft, magical music of the ball, still playing, perhaps to keep the patrons calm. But I knew they could search all night, put posters up on every tree, phone every television station in the world, and they would never find me.

"They will find you," Jason said, his voice revealing his position in the darkness. "Once I'm finished with you, that is."

"What? You're going to leave me here?"

"Yes."

"Please, Jason. Don't do this," I begged, stepping away, reaching for the place my silver locket used to rest. "Just think about it for a second."

He laughed lightly. "Ara-Rose, I have thought about it-for a very long time." He appeared in front of me. "I know exactly what I'm going to do to you."

I swallowed, grateful that the dark cloaked his face. If I'd been able to see the intent behind the smile I heard in his voice, I was afraid my skin might have fallen from my limbs. But, ignorant, I could pretend to be strong. "Then, why haven't you done it yet? Are you waiting for some perfect moment?"

He stepped forward, the shadows lifting, revealing his eyes as hollow, yawning caves. "No, Ara. I'm a vampire-we like to play with our food."

"I'm not your food. You came here to kill me. That makes me a victim."

"Yes, I suppose it does." His firm grip sent a rush of blood shooting from my arm to my heart; he pulled me closer, his orange-chocolate scent waking my mind to a different version of the dream it always put me in-casting me suddenly into the theatrics of a nightmare. "But still, I have a few games-things I want you to suffer before I kill you."

"Don't do that," I said, pushing his chest, unable to get my arm free. "Don't keep saying things like that."

"Stupid little thing, aren't you?" he said with a laugh. "Or, perhaps, brave-making demands of your reaper."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be."

Something exchanged between us then, a kind of knowing that came from experience; it was as if I could see every thought beyond the darkness of his eyes. He wanted to do something to me then-what, I didn't know, but it made me suddenly not so sure of myself.

"Do you know what his favourite genre of film was? Did he tell you?"

"Horror." I nodded, eyes on the ground.

"Yes. So, I thought I might make this little charade as gruesome an end as I could dream up, so that when I show him the memory, he will be haunted by it for the rest of eternity." He walked slowly around me, the feel of his eyes gliding over every bare inch of my skin, stopping in front of me with his cold breath moist on my brow, his body close like he was my David. "I haven't eaten for five days and the hunger in me is so vicious right now, I'm not sure I can make this last as long as I would like."

I closed my eyes, crossing my forearms over my chest.