Dark Secrets Box Set Read online

  ~Books One, Two, and Three of Dark Secrets~

  Text © 2018 by Angela M Hudson

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover image © Angela M Hudson

  Model: Jessica Truscott FayStock

  Editor John Adriaan and

  Karen Veli

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, events or incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to places or incidents is purely coincidental.

  www.angelamhudson.com

  Other Titles In This Series

  (should be read in order)

  Dark Secrets

  The Heart’s Ashes

  Mark of Betrayal

  Lies in Blood

  Echoes & Silence: Part One

  Echoes & Silence: Part Two

  Bound by Secrets

  Heart of Darkness

  Underworld

  Also By This Author

  Bound Series Book 1

  Bound Series Book 2

  In Another life 1

  In Another life 2

  In Another life 3

  In My Blood

  The Legend of the Raven Wolf

  Best Reading Order for Dark Secrets

  Dark Secrets

  The Heart’s Ashes

  Mark of Betrayal

  Lies in Blood

  Echoes & Silence: Part One

  Echoes & Silence: Part Two

  Bound Series Book 1

  Bound Series Book 2

  Bound by Secrets

  In Another life 1

  In Another life 2

  In Another life 3

  In My Blood

  Heart of Darkness

  Underworld

  Contents

  ~1~

  I. The Vampire and His Dark Secrets

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  II. Mike

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  III. The Brutal Revenge of Jason Knight

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  ~1~

  We all face battles. We all take roads that test us for the sole purpose of making us stronger. This is not unique to my story. But I am my own worst enemy, and so everything I’ve suffered, everything that led me here, I brought upon myself.

  I’ve made so many wrong choices.

  Hurt everyone I love.

  But worst of all, it took me so long to realize what a needy brat I was, that now, as my short life comes to an end, I’m afraid it’s too late. Afraid no one will really care how I changed.

  Not even David.

  My name is Ara, and my horrific ending began in high school, when I first met a vampire, who looked like a human.

  1

  “Tell me your darkest secrets, and I’ll challenge them with mine.”

  Across the road from Dad’s house—my house now, I guess—I stood staring up at the brown-bricked school, considering the mundane scene beyond the doors with a bit of disappointment. Coming from another country, I’d expected something entirely different. But it was nothing like American high schools on TV. Everything was plainly colored, and all the kids looked normal; no glamorous groups of girls walking down the hall, flicking their hair, while the unpopular kids made a path for them. No one was dancing or singing and, thankfully, no Slushy showers. There were lockers, though, but they weren’t big enough to be stuffed inside.

  A few boys ran past me and up the cement steps in a tight, sweaty group, oblivious to my neon “New Kid” sign. Which gave me hope that maybe I could just blend in and go unnoticed today.

  “Wishing you’d taken my advice now?” said a familiar voice from behind.

  I turned, narrowing a cold eye at my half brother. “I don’t take fashion tips from dorks.”

  “At least I won’t stand out like a sore thumb,” he noted, spreading his arms to indicate his plain blue shirt and jeans. “Girls don’t wear dresses to school here, Amara. Especially not bright yellow ones.”

  “It’s pastel,” I advised him. “And don’t call me Amara. No one calls me that.”

  “Sorry.” His shoulders dropped. “You’re right. Butt-face suits you so much better.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said as he darted past, taking two steps at a time with his long, lanky stride. “Well… it suits you better more!”

  “Nice try,” he called, slamming the glass door on my shame.

  I slapped my brow, infuriated with my lack of skill in the art of sibling rivalry.

  “He’s right about the dress,” said Sam’s equally annoying friend, coming up from behind me. “It’s a bit… feminine.”

  “Well, maybe it’ll take the focus off my scars,” I muttered, angling my chin down to make them less obvious. It didn't work. They were heinous, ugly little dots all over my chin and one side of my neck, expected to fade, eventually. But they hadn’t given me enough time. Hardly a few months had passed since… it happened. It all still felt like fire in my soul—the voices in my head screaming in a raging battle against my conscience, trying to convince me that the guilt, the pain, the sadness of it all would just hurt a little bit less if I accidentally stepped out in front of a speeding car. It’s not like I wanted to be dead, I just needed the pain to stop for a while. And it was so much worse having to carry physical scars as well. I’d tried to arrange my hair to hide them, but then a part of me said not to, because they were a reminder of what selfish, childish behavior can lead to; they were a mark, a stain, a punishment for the simple crime of being me.

  But I wouldn’t let myself feel pity, because every ache, every horrible thing that happened today, would only be a small step toward atonement.

  “In the interests of being honest,” he said, wincing apologetically, “people are gonna notice the scars. Not much you can do about that.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, because I did appreciate the honesty. It was refreshing after spending the last few months in a new household, where everyone tiptoed around my grief.

  “No problem,” he said, turning on his heel and heading up the stairs as easily as Sam had. I wished I could do that—just walk in there like it was an everyday occurrence. I knew it would be, one day, but today… the first step just felt like too big a hurdle to overcome. I wasn’t ready for school, and I wasn’t ready to face the nastiness that came so naturally to people my age.

  Almost as soon as I’d braved my first step, I stopped dead, noticing a pair of heavy black boots facing me beyond the glass. My eyes moved over the denim jeans above them to
a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up over the elbows of a guy with tan, silky skin. I couldn’t see his head behind the door handles, but if I had to guess, just from his body language, I’d say he was about to greet himself a new kid.

  I dumped my bag on the step and grabbed my cardigan to feel more secure, hoping maybe it’d take the focus off the scars. If I was going to meet a guy in my first five minutes, I refused to fall all over myself with nerves brought on by my gruesomeness.

  With my eyes closed, praying he’d just disappear, I climbed the steps and pushed the door open, waking with a gasp when a hand grabbed my arm.

  “New?” said a girl with a very bright smile, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her.

  I looked to where the boy had been standing and, thankfully, my prayers were answered. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only as obvious as your dress. I’m Emily Pierce.” She grinned, shaking my hand. “Cheer Captain, and your clearly much-needed self-appointed tour guide.”

  Self-appointed tour guide? I considered this bouncy girl for a second, forming an opinion of her that probably wasn’t fair. But, as far as I was concerned, it really should be illegal to wear skirts that short to school, and perfect skin, mixed with a confident disposition, should be banned as well. It just wasn’t fair to us normal girls.

  The door swung closed behind me then, pushing me into the school with a whack on the butt. “I uh—” I moved out of the way for another group of people coming in. “I have a map, so I don’t really need a tour guide.” Barbie. That’s what I wanted to say: Tour Guide Barbie.

  “Okay, but good luck finding anything around here. Kids strip the labels off the doors and switch them around for just this sort of occasion.” She turned away. “If you want to end up in the wrong room—”

  “Okay.” I caught up. “Fine. Where’s room one?”

  “It’s this way.” She started walking. “So, do you have a name?”

  My fingers tightened around my backpack. “Um, yeah. Amara… actually, Ara-Rose.”

  “Yikes.” She looked back at me. “Bit of a mouthful, Amara-actually-Ara-Rose.”

  “Ha-ha,” I muttered sarcastically.

  “Do you go by just Ara? The whole Rose thing’ll get dropped around here anyway, you know, ’cause it kinda sounds a little… antique.”

  I smiled pleasantly, remembering that being normal meant fitting in; slapping a girl you just met led to detention. “I guess just Ara’s fine,” I said, but it really wasn’t.

  “So, what brings you to our school?” the girl asked.

  Death. Tragedy. Throwing myself at my best friend and then being brutally rejected. “My feet.”

  She looked at me and, seeing I was joking, actually laughed. And I suddenly liked her so much more. “Seriously. Did you just move here, or were you, like, expelled from another school?”

  I wondered if I looked like the sort of kid who’d get expelled. “Sea change.” I shrugged.

  “Eccentric mom?”

  My brow crinkled. “What do you mean?”

  “Most of the new kids come here because their moms decided to be a painter or marry a man they met on a dating site. Eccentric moms.”

  “Oh.” I attempted a friendly laugh. “No. Just a sea change.”

  “Well, our gain,” she said, linking arms with me as if we were friends. “You don’t really say much, do you?”

  “Uh…”

  “Because, you know, we started back last week. If you wanted to be a wallflower, you really should have started with all the other new kids.”

  “I…” I looped my thumb around my backpack strap again, feeling awkward being this close to a stranger. “I wasn’t quite ready to start last week.”

  “Then, I hope you like attention.”

  I did, in ways. But it was the questions I wanted to avoid, or… actually, answers.

  “Wait!” She stopped, eyes wide. “Room one. First period. Show me your schedule!”

  Catching her overexcited vibe, a little concerned that maybe I had something wrong, I put my bag down and dug into it for the twice-folded bit of paper. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I bet you have English first period.” She snatched my schedule, looked it over, then grinned widely. “You do. I hate you.”

  “Nice to meet you too.” I laughed, throwing my bag over my shoulder as I stood up.

  “You just don’t get it yet.” She started walking again, handing me the schedule as I followed. “Your luck just changed.”

  “How so?”

  “You have David Knight in your class.”

  I stuffed my schedule in the open pocket of my bag, choosing to ignore her complete lack of composure. “School heartthrob?”

  “You guessed it. I mean, he’s a bit of a jerk, really… to most girls, but he’s got the kind of face that gets him off almost any hook.”

  My lip curled. I bit it. This girl had issues. “I’m not a huge fan of jerks, you know—not even the cute ones.”

  “Mm-mm.” She shook her head, lips pressed to shape her sound. “He won’t be a jerk to you. You haven’t done anything to annoy him yet.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “Yeah, and he totally goes for that lost lamb thing you’ve got going.” She motioned to me—all of me.

  “Um, yeah, well my biggest concern for senior year is not what some jerk thinks of me. No matter how cute he is.”

  “That’s because you haven’t seen him yet.”

  I rolled my eyes. As if I’d ever be that pathetic.

  “Yep.” She considered me again. “He is just going to snatch you up.”

  “Should I be worried?” I wasn’t partial to being snatched.

  “No way. They’d deny it, but any girl in the school would give their right arm to be snatched by David.”

  Or maybe just you would, I thought.

  “Okay.” She stopped again. I wanted to keep walking—right past the glass doors, out to the front parking lot and into the cupboard under the stairs back at Dad’s house. “Here’s your class. You’re late, which means everyone will stare and whisper about you, but you look like you can handle it.”

  “I probably can,” I lied.

  “That’s the spirit.” She curled a fist in front of the door and rapped lightly, sending my nerves into a frenzy. Don’t get me wrong, I could handle nerves, and butterflies in my stomach were just yesterday’s breakfast, but these felt more like bats. Big, black, hairy bats.

  The door opened a little, and a shiny head with hairy ear tufts popped out. “Emily. What can I do for you?”

  “This is Ara. She’s new.” Emily presented me.

  “Ah, yes. We were wondering when you might be joining us.” Because of his warm eyes and his gray-brown moustache curving atop a grin, I felt sort of welcome. “Are you just going by Ara then, Amara?”

  I nodded, wishing I’d used my words instead. Like a big girl.

  “Well, Ara, I hope you’re a much quieter student than this lot.” He jerked his thumb to the noisy class. I tried to look past him to get a handle on the room, so as not to trip on anyone when I walked in, but he was in the way.

  “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Mr. Benson. She’s hardly said two words.”

  The teacher looked back at me and straightened up a little, making my heart race as if I’d just run a block, which seemed like a viable option right now, just… in the other direction. “Are you nervous, Ara?”

  I nodded slowly. “I’ve never been to a new school before.”

  “I know. But… I tell you what…” He touched his chin, then turned and signaled into the class. “I think I have a solution.”

  “Yes, Mr. B.” A boy stepped up before I expected him to, and a short breath escaped my lips, making my heart skip a beat that it would never recover. I’d seen my fair share of gorgeous guys, but this one topped the list, and he wasn’t even my ‘type’. I really hoped this wasn’t Mr. B’s idea of a ‘solution’ to my anxiety.

  As the boy settled
into his lean on the doorframe, his dark-brown hair fell into his eyes. He swept it back with one hand, and any hope of composure withered away with the hold of that smile—how his dark-pink lips sat closed and turned up sharply in the corners. His emerald green gaze fixed mine in place, as if he was completely unfazed by my shameless ogling.

  “Ara? This is David,” Mr. Benson said, eyeing the proverbial drool on my lip.

  Time came rushing back like a smack across the face. I snapped my gob shut and wiped my chin, glad there wasn’t actually drool there. I already figured that boy was David. My reaction completely mirrored the stupidity I despised in Emily two minutes ago. I’d seen hot guys before, but there was something… odd, and… for lack of a better or less lame word, sort of alluring about this one. It was like I just had zero control over the sudden fluctuation of hormones in my body, which immediately set off several alarms.

  David’s smile changed then, drawing my gaze to his perfect teeth, while the dimples beside his mouth dipped sharply. “Hello, Ara.”

  I lifted my hand to wave. No words came out, though. Pathetic.

  “David?” Mr. Benson prompted.