Fallen Hearts

by Angela Colsin

  Scoffing as he pushed himself away from the wall, Stephan remarked, “Yeah, you don't know where she is, and I'm secretly a unicorn.”

  Slowly making his way toward a stainless steel table positioned behind the gurney, he looked over the surgical implements laid atop it in a neat row, and grabbed a serrated blade.

  Lifting it, he allowed the metal to clink against the table as a warning that something was coming without revealing what, hoping Ignacio's imagination would run wild and loosen his tongue.

  Stepping around to the side of the gurney, he looked down at the vampire, who was certainly in bad condition. With the UV light on a low setting, his skin was smoking and his eyes were red in bloodlust, proving he was weakened—but that actually wasn't Stephan's doing for once.

  Instead, he'd found Ignacio in such a state.

  It was questionable if the reason for Ignacio's poor health was that he might've recently endured a situation similar to the one he was currently in, or if he'd simply gotten into a fight. But in either case, it'd certainly made apprehending the vampire much easier, and, as if speaking with an old friend, Stephan inquired over it.

  “What happened to you anyway? Or do you not know that either?”

  During his question, he drew up the serrated blade, inspecting its sharpness while giving his captive a good look at it. But Ignacio didn't seem impressed, silently twisting in his binds as he sneered up at Stephan with sharpened fangs.

  “Have it your way.”

  With the comment, Stephan turned the blade and slammed it downwards, directly into Ignacio's heart. The vampire tensed, and with that vital organ now mortally wounded, his skin started peeling even more quickly under the UV light.

  “One down,” Stephan remarked. All he needed now was to behead the vampire, and Ignacio would be down for good. “Maybe I should go for the other. I'd probably get Lillian's attention faster sending her sibling's ashes in a jar than waiting on you to answer questions.”

  He had to admit, it would be poetic justice, and as he turned back to the table where his torture instruments were located, Ignacio rasped, “I already said I don't know where she is, but if killing me draws her to you, then do it. She'd drain you in a single moment, or just rip you apart, limb from limb.”

  She's done worse, Stephan thought, but didn't voice the fact aloud. Instead, he grasped a machete from the table and lifted it to symbolically lay across the vampire's throat, asking insipidly, “That so?”

  Ignoring the threat of the blade, Ignacio inquired in turn, “Why do you want her dead, mortal?”

  The way he emphasized his question made it sound as if he'd already been tortured for information about his sister. With all of the contracts on Lillian's life, and considering Ignacio's recent disappearance in the face of so many attacks on Rymid lairs, it was a likely possibility.

  “Why do you ask, Iggy? Having a rough time dealing with the consequences of her bullshit?”

  “Doesn't matter,” he retorted, and his tone had lost much of the anger it once possessed, as if giving up—not that Stephan was convinced. Vampires were duplicitous, and Ignacio could've easily been playing an angle.

  It was simply a question of which angle, and the vampire's next comment made it hard to tell.

  “But I do know of someone who could help you.”

  “Oh? Who would that be?”

  Stephan fully expected to get some smartassed retort, like the name of a celebrity who'd played a vampire hunter before, but Ignacio surprised him.

  “Her name is Maddox,” he began. “She's a vampire Lillian entombed for knowing too much.”

  “Maddox?” The name wasn't familiar, and Stephan had made it a point to know as many names as possible to assist in his hunt. “What's the full name?”

  “Just Maddox,” Ignacio replied, still struggling under the heat of the lamp above him.

  “Okay, I'll bite. Maddox was entombed for knowing too much about what?”

  Hissing, his captive demanded, “Turn that fucking light off and I'll tell you.”

  It was a reasonable request. Ignacio wasn't going anywhere, and was too weak to be much of a threat even if he did manage an escape. So Stephan reached up and pressed a button on the side of the fixture that switched it to a normal, florescent bulb.

  The instant it changed, the vampire groaned in relief, his body going limp before his blood red gaze turned back up toward his mortal captor with an explanation.

  “Maddox knew where her lairs were located, and about several of her plans, things Lillian kept secret from everyone, even me. So two years ago, I helped her seal Maddox in a mausoleum with magic. The spell would've worn off by now, but if anyone can answer your questions, or would even be willing to, it would be her.”

  Stephan scoffed skeptically. An entombed vampire who had the answers he needed? Such a thing wasn't impossible—a vampire sealed inside a tomb for so long would've turned into a corpse, leaving them with no hope of escape unless someone were to pull them out.

  But that didn't mean this Maddox actually had the information Stephan required.

  “If what Maddox knew was so damned important, why didn't Lillian just kill her?”

  “Several reasons. For one, she wanted to offer Maddox a choice when the time came,” Ignacio answered plainly. “But what choice, she never explained. For another, Lillian said her sire was extremely old and powerful, a threat who would've taken vengeance if his daughter was harmed.”

  Those could've been valid reasons, and Stephan immediately weighed the possibilities, though it still didn't prove whether or not Ignacio was lying about what Maddox actually knew. Yet if even a small part of it was true, it could actually be worth looking into, particularly considering his recent lack of success at learning anything valuable.

  Stephan just needed to hear a little more of the story.

  “Let me guess, Maddox was another Rymid magistrate, or one of their lackeys.”

  “No, she didn't belong to a faction.”

  Hearing this, Stephan quirked a brow over his eye patch. “So you're telling me she has no blood ties to Lillian, wasn't even a member of your faction, but I'm supposed to believe she somehow knew more than you do?” Shaking his head, Stephan added, “Starting to think you shovel shit for a living, Iggy.”

  The vampire groaned, pointing out, “Lillian was never forthcoming in order to protect us, and I never complained when I had my own secrets to keep. But Maddox was a close friend, a hunting partner, and in Lillian's own words, she stumbled across plans she didn't need to know about.”

  Stephan took the handle of the machete in a tight grip, wondering just how much of this story he should believe—saying he believed any at all. In order to entomb a vampire, Lillian would've had to catch Maddox during the day, or perhaps just after dark before the vampire awakened.

  Then again, Ignacio said they sealed her inside using magic, so they may have paid a mage to do it for them.

  In either case, a followup was definitely in order.

  “And where would I find this vampire?” he inquired casually.

  “Page South Cemetery in the countryside of northern Georgia. Maddox's chamber is in the mausoleum on the right wall, covered with a plaque possessing the name Whitmore.”

  Stephan's gaze narrowed as he regarded the weakened vampire through the restored vision of his remaining, silvery eye. Only time would tell if any of this information would prove to be worthwhile, and he decided to get started by reaching up to flip the light off.

  Just before the room went dark, Ignacio cringed as if he thought his captor was going to go back to the UV bulb to let him cook a little longer. Such a reaction was satisfying if only because it meant the vampire took Stephan seriously.

  Without any illumination, his vision continued to pick up enough light to see an outline of everything around him as he informed Ignacio, “I'll go check it out, and if anything you've said is a lie, expect me to come back and finish the job.”

  Turning to toss the machete
back onto the table, he exited the room, leaving Ignacio strapped to the gurney.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Vampires didn't dream, they reminisced.

  Memories of times long past resurfaced during their slumber, sometimes vividly enough to seem as if it were happening all over again. It could be a curse if the memory relived was best forgotten—or a blessing to recall a particularly happy event.

  And for a dormant vampire, the memory of feeding on rich, hot blood was the best of them all.

  It was in a farmhouse near the Plymouth Colony that she'd found her prey. The bedroom was dark so late at night, but light wasn't needed to see the mortal farmer laying in his bed beneath her, sound asleep and paralyzed by her bite.

  His blood was intoxicating, coursing through her veins to bring life to her body, and she drew deep with a low groan of satisfaction.

  “Betsy, you've had enough.”

  At her sire's comment, she groaned and tugged her head back, inhaling a deep breath. Mathias was right, she was already full, but in her five days as a vampire, she'd learned drinking blood was too enjoyable to easily stop.

  After cleaning her lips and fangs with her tongue, she grumbled, “Betsy isn't my name anymore, remember?”

  “That's why I used it. I thought you'd be annoyed enough to stop and remind me.”

  She pursed lips over his ploy, though the teasing smirk Mathias gave in return wiped away whatever irritation he'd caused.

  After her turning, she'd announced that Elizabeth “Betsy” Wescott was dead, and intended on finding a new name for her new life. But she'd yet to think of anything suitable, and let the matter go for now, too intent on making certain she hadn't disrupted the mortal's sleep to really consider it.

  Because a vampire's bite paralyzed humans, it was easiest to remain anonymous by draining their blood as they slept. The puncture wounds would quickly heal, leaving the human none the wiser, and thankfully, the farmer was still unconscious, letting a loud snore that proved he remained unaware of her presence.

  Satisfied with her work, she stood from the bed just as Mathias commended her.

  “You've done well. Now we simply need to work on your control.”

  “I would've stopped,” she promised in defense, then paused before adding, “soon.”

  Mathias grinned, moving toward the window next to the bed. On the way, Betsy couldn't help noticing again how out of place he looked in such a simple farmhouse wearing his finely tailored trousers, waistcoat, and a cravat as he silently motioned for her to follow with his body dissolving into mist.

  The vapor exited the home, and she swiftly followed, drifting through the open window and out of the farmhouse, then crossed the adjacent field to a dirt path trailing along the woods beyond it. Being as late as it was, not a soul was in sight, leaving them free to reform without the worry of anyone noticing.

  Not far away was a small cemetery where they'd been resting since Mathias turned Betsy, and with dawn soon to come, it was pertinent to arrive there soon. Yet the pair began a leisurely walk through the falling snow while Mathias asked a simple question.

  “So, if not Betsy, what do I call you?”

  “I don't know yet,” she smiled. “This is a new life for me, a new start, so I want my new name to be suitable.”

  She peered up to see her sire smiling. “As it should be. But until then, I believe I'll call you … Sunshine.”

  Sending a blank stare in his direction, she asked, “Sunshine?”

  “Yes. You're too … jubilant for a vampire, like a bright ray of sunlight shining through a window.”

  “Are most vampires brooding and moody then?”

  “I've known a few,” Mathias smirked, casting a considerate gaze in her direction. “So I hope you hang onto your spirit. It's all too easy to lose with age.”

  She took the ancient vampire's words to heart, wondering where she'd be in another five thousand years—if she even lived that long.

  “I'll try not to disappoint you,” she qualified. “But tell me, am I really the only child you have?”

  “You're not the only one I've ever had, just the first I've turned in … many years. The rest have perished.”

  “I'm sorry,” she whispered, unable to imagine how hard losing them must have been for him. From her perspective, Mathias was just as much a father as her human parent, and she'd react no differently to his passing.

  The thought drew another curiosity to mind. “Is that why you haven't turned anyone else? You fear losing them?”

  “Perhaps,” he gave with a thoughtful nod. “But as I've said before, I also have enemies who'd love nothing more than to use family against me.”

  Betsy kept her expression neutral, but deep down, the thought of his enemies bothered her. Mathias had traveled the world for ages, so there was truly no way to know how many he'd acquired, or what they were capable of doing to hurt him.

  “I'll admit, that frightens me, and I wouldn't want you to do something you'd regret in an attempt to save me.”

  Somehow, her statement seemed to amuse him. “I wouldn't worry too much about that, Sunshine. Besides, fate has a strange way of putting us precisely where we need to be by making us do the last thing we'd ever want to do.”

  She conceded the point with a nod, able to think of a few examples of fate in her own life. Her unhappiness over an unwanted marriage she'd only accepted because it was her father's dying wish was what initially drew Mathias to her a few years ago, and never once would she have believed it could've offered her a better life in the end.

  “My family would have called it God's hand,” Betsy mused aloud.

  “I believe God's hand and fate to be one in the same.”

  “Really?” she asked in surprise, peering at him through the gently falling snow. “You believe in God and heaven and angels?”

  “I absolutely believe they exist,” he answered honestly. “I also believe there's far more to this universe than anyone, mortal or immortal, will ever know.”

  It was hard to ignore such a sentiment coming from a vampire who'd lived for more than five thousand years, prompting her to ask, “Then do you believe heaven disapproves of vampires?”

  Mathias smirked, gazing at the snowy scenery as he answered, “I suppose it depends, though some would say a vampire's heaven is Sutrelle.”

  “Sutrelle? What's that?”

  “It's something of a vampiric fairytale,” he explained, and offered a rather dramatic description such as one might find in a book of lore. “Sutrelle is the paradise we lost, a place where daylight will never harm us, and at its heart is the Cardinal Citadel with its towers glinting in the sun.”

  She laughed over his whimsy. “The paradise we lost? Then did it actually exist once?”

  “The accounts vary. Sutrelle was the seat of our fallen domain, said to be destroyed when vampires decided to fight amongst themselves for power. But most believe it's just a myth.”

  “And what do you believe, Mathias?”

  Where his expression was lighthearted a moment ago, her question had a more serious mien replacing it. It certainly captured her attention as the ancient vampire came to a stop in his gait and turned to face her, taking her shoulders with a pointed answer.

  “I believe some truths are best learned, not told.”

  She held his serious gaze for several silent moments while the sentiment settled in, wondering if he meant he was still searching for the truth, or already knew it and wanted her to learn for herself.

  But at the very least, she knew he wanted her to heed those words.

  After a moment, Mathias' expression softened and he patted her shoulder, adding, “Now, dawn is coming, and we need shelter.”

  With her dark, curly hair heavily dotted by the falling flakes and caught in the gusting breeze, she nodded in agreement instead of pursuing their conversation. There was plenty of time to ask questions and learn everything she desired to know later, and with the cemetery just ahead, she resumed their walk.
>
  Arriving at their resting spot only moments later, the tombstone marking her grave drew her attention. It was the same grave she'd first woken as a vampire in five days prior, and she read the name etched into the surface aloud.

  “Maddox.”

  Mathias looked back in confusion. “What?”

  “The name on the headstone where I turned,” she explained, suddenly grinning. “I think it's suitable.”

  Mathias considered it, his silver eyes looking her over before he smiled. “I believe you're right. So, Maddox it is.”

  Satisfied, she looked at the grave and thought over her twenty-two years as a human. It certainly wasn't the most noteworthy life, unless one counted being married at seventeen and widowed four years later exciting. But that would soon change. While Elizabeth Wescott rested in peace, Maddox would experience all the marvels the world outside of the colonies had to offer, wondering where fate, or God's hand, might lead her.

  And she couldn't wait to find out.

  3

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Maddox? You got a last name? Or a first?”

  “Ignacio said Maddox is her only name.”

  “Alright, let's see.”

  Data continually flashed across the monitor, reflecting in Jennifer Kivsey's glasses as she sorted through it. In the process, Stephan leaned against the back of her chair, his focus centered entirely on the information she was drawing up to hopefully locate the vampire's name—until he realized just how close he'd gotten to his coworker.

  There wasn't anything between them, and he was fairly certain Kivsey wasn't interested, but Stephan stood back anyway, unwilling to put ideas in her head after she'd made a few suggestive comments in the past.

  When they'd first met five years ago, he'd mistaken her for a nurse, but she was actually one of the best intelligence agents The Bastion had to offer, and her assistance in his hunt had been invaluable. Kivsey was clever, resourceful, and rather beautiful to boot, yet even if Stephan was romantically interested, he carried a disease he didn't want to risk passing on.