“Why? They wouldn't know.”

“No, they wouldn’t. But you would.”

My shoulders dropped. “Good point.”

“Look, I don't like this either, Ara. Who’s to say Drake isn't gonna wait for you to be out here, all alone—” he looked up at the loneliness of the empty space, “—and then just swoop in and grab you.”

“Thanks. I hadn’t thought of that, but now that you mention it, I'm sure I’ll be looking over my shoulder and jumping at every snapping branch I pass.” It made the idea of being out here, alone, in the dark, very, very scary.

Mike looked up as a crow landed on a branch behind us, cawing loudly in the silence. “Maybe you should just run the whole track.”

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a forest.” I patted his upper arm. “The scariest thing out here will probably be my own imagination. Then again, I am a vampire, so the scariest thing out here would actually be me.”

“Ha! I love the way you look at things, Ara.”

“Just doing my bit to be positive.”

“Well, in the end, that’s what’s gonna get you through this.” He looked at the crow again.

“What’s wrong with the damn crow?” I said mockingly. “Do you think he’s a spy?”

“These days, baby, I’d believe almost anything. Come on—” With his arm over my shoulder, he turned us and started walking. “It’s time to take you to your first, official, Private Council meeting.”

“Oh, goodie.” I clapped once, sarcasm festering in the air around me.

Under a trap door that slid into a concealed pocket when Mike stepped on a tile marked with a Symbol, was a set of stone stairs, leading below the manor in a circle. If I’d walked over that door, being hidden in the twist of the Throne Room’s patterned marble, I’d never have known it was there. And with the door gone, it almost looked like the circle continued, breaking into stairs as it went beneath. We followed them down, tracing the stone column they wrapped, until a dark room opened out before us; flame torches burned low in sconces on the rock walls, which reached high up to the floor of the Throne Room, with hollows displaying small statues, swords or tablets.

“Original.” I dropped back on my heels, looking at the stone table. “Knight’s of the Round Table.”

“Where do you think the legend came from?” Blade, my sneaky personal guard, came up from behind.

“Really? That was made up by Lilithians?”

“That’s what they tell me.” He shrugged and sat down, arms crossed behind his head, leaning right back in his chair. “Pretty funny, huh?”

“It wasn't made up,” said Morgaine as she skipped into the room. “The knight’s were once great and many. The head of each Core sat at this table, with the queen—” she pointed at me and then to a chair up the back of the room, “—while they wrote the laws that helped form our society. It’s not a myth or a joke, Blade!”

“Sorry.” He rolled his eyes and sat forward, dropping his elbows onto his knees.

“Ease off the guy, Morg,” Falcon said from the opposite side of the room, arms folded, foot against the wall behind him, as if he’d been standing in here the whole time.

“Falcon? How’s vampirism treating you?” Morgaine asked. “Haven't seen you since you were bitten.”

“Strangely, not so different.”

“Well, once you’re full strength, you’ll love it,” she said and placed a phone at the centre of the table. “For Emily to join in.”

“Just Emily?” I asked, hinting that David should be, too.

“Yes,” Mike said, pulling one of the ordinary kitchen chairs out from the ancient stone table. “That makes the Council complete.”

“Right,” I said, nodding. So, he hadn’t told the knights David was still alive. I wondered if he would. Well, he’d have to soon. I mean, even if I hadn’t decided to have them on my Private Council, they’d still be present for meetings and pretty much anything else I said or did.

“Ah, Eric, there you are.” Blade flipped his chin; I looked behind me as Eric and Quaid jumped off the last step, laughing.

“Something funny, boys?” Cop-Mike possessed the easy-going posture of my BFF.

“Sorry, Chief. We got lost.” Quaid punched Eric softly in the arm.

“Yeah, it was my fault. We were hanging out with the maids in the staff quarters, but there are so many doors down there—I swore the exit was the one on the right.” Eric stopped laughing for a second and looked at Quaid, but it burst out of them again like a car horn.

“Okay—” Mike rested his elbows on his knees, “—so, what did you find when you turned right?”

“Fat Margret and Edgar—kissing in the broom closet.” They roared with laughter again.

“Old Margie—that nosey hag from dinner?” Blade asked.

“Yup.” Eric composed himself. “You should have seen the look on her face—being caught with a lowly servant.”

“They didn’t have a candlestick, did they?” Mike asked, and I laughed, though everyone else just stared at him. “Margret, in the broom closet—you know, the game—clue-something?” he said leadingly.

The only response was cleared throats and chirping crickets, though I was probably imagining the crickets. “Don't worry, Mike. I got it.”

He smiled at me, shaking his head, then stood up and offered me his chair. “I'm gonna call her Mrs. Peacock from now on.”

“Mike, that makes no sense,” Morgaine said.

“That’s because you never played board games.”

“Yeah.” I sat down. “Mike and I used to play that game with my mum all the time, right, Mike?”

“Yeah.” He smiled warmly at the past.

“Mrs. Peacock was a game?” Morg asked.

“No—a character from a game,” Mike said.

“O…kay. Whatever.” Morgaine sat down.

“For an old bird, Morg, you don't know much about nineties pop-culture,” Blade said.

“Shut up, douchebag!”

“Okay, cool it, you two,” Mike cut in. “Now, first on the agenda today—” He paused and looked at the phone. “Morg, did you actually call Emily?”

“Oh, Crap.” She grabbed the phone, her cheeks blushing, and dialled Em’s number.

“Ha! She is like Ara,” Quaid piped up, and the other guys shushed him.

Morg gave him a vehement glare then turned back to the phone when Emily answered. “Hi, Em. Meeting time.”

“Okay. Present,” Emily said in her sweet voice.

“Em?” Mike said.

“Hey, Mike!”

“Hey, gorgeous. So, meeting begins now; just speak up if you wanna add something.”

“M’kay.”

I looked from the phone, to Mike. It was once weird to see him so affectionately look at another girl—er, phone—but it kind of felt nice now, to know he was happy—that he wasn’t alone.

He paced the floor, first addressing the subject of the defectors our Order had just inherited, how they seemed to be trustworthy so far, then went on to discuss the coronation, deciding it would be held this week—provided the Upper House approved. “Which brings us to our next topic.”

All eyes in the room moved to me; I shrunk in my seat. “What?”

“Changing of the knights.”

“Oh boy.” I tipped my brow to my hand.

“I know, Ara, but the rest of the army have completed the change—they’re training and ready to go. The only thing left to do, which I know you’re dreading, is to change these guys.” Mike clapped Blade on the shoulder.

I swallowed, trying to push the feeling, the memory of when Jason flooded my lips with human blood, out of my mind. I could still feel it blazing, and could still taste the acidic tang of Falcon’s blood when I changed him the other day.

“What’s the big deal?” Blade shrugged, palms up. “I don't get it—she just has to bite us.”

“Human blood burns her, Blade,” Morg said with a very thick smothering of abhorrence. “Lilithian’s just weren’t designed to bite humans—it goes against everything we are.”

“Sorry, Princess.” Blade sunk back a bit. “I didn't mean to be offensive.”

“No, it’s okay, Blade,” I said. “You weren’t to know.”

“If he’d paid attention the day you bit Falcon, he would know how it affects you,” Morgaine barked.

Blade looked like a kid cussing at his own mistake. “U’m sorry. I just…I thought she was upset ‘cause she killed him.”

“Yeah, well, now you know, don't you.” Morgaine took my hand. “But, despite the burn, Amara, you have to do this. The sooner, the better. You may need the knights when you go to kill Drake in a few weeks.”

“Trap him,” I corrected.

She looked up at Mike, who gave a small headshake—his non-verbal ‘leave it for now.’

“Well, at least I only have to bite three, right. So, when do you want me to do it?”

“Tonight,” Mike said. “After the bonfire shindig.”

“Really?” I rubbed my tongue over the roof of my mouth.

“Can you think of a better time?” he asked. “We’ll let these guys enjoy their last evening as mortals, then we’ll introduce them to the flip-side of the pillow.”

“Huh?” I frowned.

“The flip-side…” his voice trailed off. “It means the cool side of life, you know, ‘cause your pillow is cold on the other—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“So, tonight?” Morgaine said.

An air of exhilaration and anticipation washed over the last remaining humans in the room.

“Okay. Tonight, then.” I nodded.

“Sweet.” Blade and Ryder smacked hands together, then turned and did the same with Quaid. Falcon remained cool, watching on from his position against the wall, as if he was above it all—way too mature to high-five.

“Right,” Mike said. “Well, the next meeting will be called in two days—the morning prior to the coronation. Ara?” He looked at me. “Eileen, formerly Lady in Waiting to Queen Lilith, wants to talk with you about the coronation.”

“Why?”

Mike leaned on the wall, his legs casually slanted in front of him. “She says there’re some things—history and reasons for some of the ceremonial stuff, that you need to know.”

“Great,” I groaned. “Look forward to it.” Really, though, I actually just felt like catching a taxi to Elysium, running inside, killing myself a bad guy, then taking the first breeze back home—to dad’s house—to normal life again.

Morgaine turned her head swiftly and looked into my eyes, while the rest of the council chatted and laughed loudly between themselves. “You okay, Princess?”

I shook my head.

“Right then.” Mike stood up off the wall. “Let’s call this meeting adjourned.”

“Sweet. Dibs on lighting the bonfire,” Blade said, rubbing his hands together as he stood.

“Yep, and Falcon can get all the firewood,” Quaid slapped Mr. Serious on the shoulder as he passed.

“Why him?” Morgaine asked.

“He can pull trees down with his bare hands,” Quaid said.

“Roooar!” Ryder laughed, following the boys up the stairs.

Falcon and Mike shook their heads, looking like twins, standing side by side. They even wore the same black fitted shirts and jeans. I wondered if Mike was missing his little bromance with David, enough that he was seeking himself a twin of his very own.

“Ara?” Mike’s hand came down on my shoulder; I hadn’t even noticed him beside me. “Eileen’s waiting in your room. You can meet us down at the bonfire once you’re done.”

“Will it take that long?” I looked at my watch. “I was planning on—” I stopped before the words going to the lighthouse slipped out.

“You were what?”

“Nothing. I'm just tired. I wanted a rest first.”

Morgaine took my hand and whispered quietly, “Would you like me to come to the boring meeting with you?”

“Yes! Please!” I hopped up off the chair. “We can throw paper canons at her head when she’s not looking.”

She laughed. “Okay, but only if we get to blame you for it. You can't get in trouble.”

“Hey, guys?” Emily’s voice came up all crackly through the phone, like the connection was dropping.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alone yet?”

Mike looked over at Falcon. “We’re among friends.”

“Okay, so I can talk about—”

“Yes,” Mike said, cutting her off. “What is it?”

“Mike?” Blade popped his head around the corner.

“Em, hold on.” Mike looked at Blade. “What’s up?”

He stepped off the stairs and gave me a wink, then looked back over at Mike. “Kegs for the shindig just arrived. Jack wants you to sign for it.”

“Right. I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Okay.” Blade had a really boyish, playful charm about him today. He knocked me gently with his elbow as he passed; his lips parting over his teeth, giving a cheeky grin that seemed to apologise for nothing. “I’ll see ya tonight, pretty princess.”