Fallen Hearts

by Angela Colsin

  Well, that certainly punched a hole in his I'm just a convenient option theory. For whatever reason, she wanted him, and Stephan honestly couldn't wrap his head around it.

  It also proved that distancing himself may not be enough.

  Of course, he could always just turn her away with the full truth. But then what? Knowing he was dying and the reasons why wouldn't ruin her interest in him, just as knowing he'd put her in danger by getting too close hadn't killed his own. Instead, Maddox would only begin worrying for him, and if her desire was strong enough, it might even make her feel the need to take a risk before whatever chances they had were lost.

  After all, she'd stated the previous evening that life was just another four letter word for risk, so no, he needed to find some way of making her let this interest go, otherwise it wasn't going to end well whatsoever.

  During his silence, Maddox spoke his name softly and came to stand beside him, asking, “Out of curiosity, what if I was interested in having something more meaningful with you? What would you say?”

  And here's your chance, Stephan thought with no lack of discontent. It was time to give her the facts, and he grabbed his jacket from the back of the wing chair to shove his arms into the sleeves, stating, “I've got no problems working with you anymore, Maddox. I'll help you search for Mathias, or do whatever else you might need.”

  On the way to the door, he added callously, “But if you wanna get closer than that, I'd have to say too damned bad, because I'd die before letting that happen.”

  There. The truth revealed—albeit in a roundabout sense—and the door slammed shut on her incensed gasp, proving she was upset.

  He just hoped it was enough to change her mind entirely, and wasted no time ascending the stairs, cursing himself the entire way for being too fucked up to have anything he wanted.

  It made him wonder if he shouldn't just leave Maddox to her own devices in this search, but Ardilon was right. If Mathias or Wesley knew of a cure for Ithrim, there was too much potential in finding them for Stephan to give up, meaning the next several weeks were going to be hell.

  If he even survived that long.

  28

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Normally, three weeks would've passed in no time for a four-century-old vampire. But waiting for the masquerade to arrive was a test of endurance, and Maddox was failing it miserably.

  Social engagements, reestablishing ownership of her home, and trying to gain an earlier audience with Eradin than the ball provided occupied most of her time, but even being so busy, it seemed to take forever. With each passing night, her optimism waned, making it harder and harder to handle the constant disappointments—not to mention the purported disinterest of a particular votary.

  In her effort to find Mathias, Maddox made it a point to go out and socialize regularly under her old pseudonym of Marla, and earned several invitations to social gatherings with influential people. It didn't matter if they had nothing to offer on her sire, she needed to reassert herself in the world at large, and if she couldn't find Mathias, she'd help him find her.

  Yet nothing seemed to work. Maddox even went so far as paying a mage to magically track him, but the results were inconclusive.

  Just like the rest of The Five, Mathias had vanished into thin air.

  The situation called to mind Ignacio's claim that Lillian released her sire to learn more of Sutrelle. Maddox had scoffed at the time, but knowing in her blood that Mathias was still alive somewhere, she began wondering if the legend wasn't actually tied into his fate.

  Perhaps he'd been forced to lead someone there after he was revived, making it seem as if putting effort into locating the proverbial paradise could actually yield some worthwhile results—and if Eradin didn't provide any answers at the masquerade, that's exactly what she'd do.

  As for the elven wizard, the closest Maddox ever got to speaking with him was his receptionist, who informed her that Eradin's next available meeting time wasn't for another twelve weeks, two months after the masquerade. So attending the party was mandatory if she and Stephan wanted to speak with him—saying the elf didn't cancel his appearance for some unforeseen reason.

  It was a precarious situation, making it difficult to maintain hope when it seemed as if nothing Maddox did made any difference.

  Though, she wondered if things wouldn't have felt so pointless if she didn't have a blood link driving her crazy.

  For weeks, Stephan remained friendly but distant, and Maddox took that time to meticulously consider his hurtful claim of dying before ever getting close to her, then carefully weighed it against his actions, and came to one, simple conclusion.

  Stephan was lying through his mortal teeth.

  Certainly, after everything he'd been through, patience would be required if he was ever going to accept his interest in a vampire, or be comfortable with the notion that they shared a blood link. So she'd decided not to push him or even broach the subject of their mutual attraction again unless he offered some solid sign of interest.

  And it was the hardest damned thing she'd ever done.

  During the weeks leading up to the masquerade, Stephan kept his promise and continually offered much needed support despite his emotional distance. The votary accompanied her wherever she went, listened when she needed to talk, and also stayed with her whenever she had trouble sleeping—though he was always out of bed by the time she woke.

  Such consideration made it extremely difficult to quell her growing affections, or wait for the sign she was getting so desperate to have. Sometimes, they'd share a look in close proximity, and his heart would speed up along with his breathing, making her believe he was about to admit his interest.

  But then he'd turn away, leaving her more frustrated than ever.

  Topping it off, their blood link had strengthened to the point that the thought of drinking his blood while making love to him was no longer her most fevered fantasy—she wanted him to take hers even more.

  Sometimes, it was next to impossible to stop thinking about it, or about him, and that type of yearning combined with all of the dead ends had her in an utterly dismal mood by the time the masquerade arrived.

  Now, at half past seven, Maddox was sitting in front of her vanity in the dressing room, preparing for the event by putting the final touches on her makeup. An upbeat jazz tune was playing on a nearby CD player, a song she'd chosen to lift her spirits, but enthusiasm was hard to come by.

  Three weeks ago, she was eager for a party, and now, the only way she could get remotely invested was by promising to tell Stephan the truth of their blood link once it was over, no matter what happened.

  But … would it be a mistake? Would knowing of the connection only chase him off for good? It was hard to say, though Maddox did know that keeping it to herself was no longer an option.

  If she couldn't admit the truth, or they didn't get a chance to speak with Eradin that night …

  She didn't know what she'd do.

  During her depressing thoughts, a knock came to the door.

  “It's unlocked, Stephan,” she called without bothering to close her robe, leaving her red corset, matching garters, and thigh highs uncovered. It was lingerie she'd purchased specifically to wear with her gown at the ball—not that Stephan hadn't been on her mind the instant she saw it.

  But, in glancing up to gauge his reaction as the door opened, she realized she was wrong about the identity of her visitor entirely.

  Instead, Foxy entered the room, and the moment she spied her friend, the succubus planted a hand on her hip and suggested, “I thought you'd buy me dinner before showing me the goods, but I'm not picky.”

  Maddox grinned, unable to say she was disappointed by this visit whatsoever. It was the first time she'd seen Foxy since moving back to Linchester, asking while twisting her lipstick and replacing the cap, “What are you doing here?”

  Joining her at the vanity, Foxy stood behind her stool and began inspecting her up-swept hair, answering, “I was in
the area and decided to make a pit stop. So, surprise and all that.”

  “That's it? You're just randomly visiting?”

  “Not happy to see me?”

  “I'm very happy to see you,” Maddox countered. “I just find it hard to believe your visit happens to coincide with the masquerade.”

  Foxy's pink lips turned up in a smile suggesting she certainly hadn't come at random. But without providing details right away, she placed her hands on the back of Maddox's stool and leaned, looking over her shoulder to make eye contact with her reflection while observing, “You know, it's been almost a month, and in all of our phone conversations, you never once mentioned just how sexually frustrated you are. Sexually. A vampire.”

  Foxy sounded betrayed, as if Maddox's growing frustration was need-to-know information. But succubi absorbed the energies given off during intercourse like a sponge—even the mere tension of desire could energize them—so it wasn't unexpected.

  Her interest was also that of a friend's, however, prompting Maddox to ask, “Why? Would you have moved in here?”

  The succubus didn't answer, and only quirked an inquisitive brow to silently prod for information.

  Sighing, Maddox finally muttered, “It's not just sexual, Fox. I'm frustrated in almost every way, and yes, it's because of Stephan.”

  Foxy didn't seem one bit surprised, though she did suggest, “You must be feeling something serious to be this wound up. Though, Stephan was shirtless when he let me in, and he's particularly eye-catching for a human.”

  Maddox tried not to think about Stephan's physical appeal. She'd spied him shirtless on several occasions—including times when he was rigorously working out—and never once had she managed to look away without staring first. The votary possessed a light dusting of dark hair across his well-defined pecs, and another trailing from his navel and down into his pants.

  All she wanted to do was run her fingers along his hard abdomen, trace it to his belt buckle, and followup with her lips.

  “I guess you're seeing it now because I could cut the tension with a knife,” Foxy pointed out, looking perplexed—and extremely curious. “I knew you were interested in him, but this? You don't have a blood link, do you?”

  Maddox groaned, but finally admitted it aloud, starting with a slow nod.

  “Yes, Fox, and if I turned Stephan, we'd be … ”

  Now the succubus looked surprised. “You've found a lover?”

  “Definitely. I've never wanted a man in all ways more than Stephan. But he's disinterested, or … pretending to be. It's hard to tell.”

  “How so?”

  Foxy had no idea how loaded that question was, and Maddox glanced at the clock on the wall next to the door, mentioning, “I don't think I have the time to explain everything now. So let's just wait until after the ball and I'll call you.”

  Nodding, the succubus waved a hand, “If you're trying to get Stephan's attention, I hope you're not actually available after the party. Have you even told him about the link?”

  “No, not yet, but I was considering doing so tonight.”

  “You should,” Foxy advised, lifting Maddox's garnet choker from the vanity to clasp around her neck while adding, “If he's actually feigning disinterest, it may be that he believes nothing serious would ever come of a relationship without a blood link. Some mortals tend to worry they'll die and leave their immortal lover behind, anyway.”

  Maddox stared at her friend's reflection pensively. Could that truly be the reason for Stephan's distance? Perhaps he wanted something serious, but didn't think Maddox would provide it, which made sense when she recalled some of the things he'd said. But only some.

  So it was dubious to base her decision on that assumption alone, prompting her to mutter, “I don't know, Fox. I guess it just depends on how things go tonight.”

  “Either way, call me later with details,” Foxy requested, then stepped around to the side of the vanity where she looked Maddox in the eyes and smiled. “Now, brace yourself. I have some good news for once.”

  Without missing a beat, Maddox directed, “Spit it out. I need something good.”

  Smirking deviously, Foxy related, “Eradin's at the New York Spire as we speak.”

  Maddox sat forward in interest. “Already?”

  A nod. “I was there earlier trying to glean information on a competitor of mine, and overheard two mages talking. They said Eradin was there on business with the Arcane Assembly, and heard he was offering his talents in the magic auction at the masquerade.”

  Maddox let a relieved sigh. It was definitely good to hear after three solid weeks of absolutely nothing.

  “Thank the gods for small favors,” she started, reaching down to put on her pumps. “With any luck, he'll know something worthwhile.”

  Foxy smiled as if she knew Maddox would appreciate the news, then produced a Spire Shard from her pocket and mentioned, “Well, as much as I'd like to stick around and see what happens, I need to get back to Pete before he gets into trouble. He's at the Spire, and still doesn't fully understand the concept of no violence in a sanctuary.”

  Maddox grinned, knowing all too well what she was talking about, and bid the succubus farewell as the shard of marble in Foxy's hand started glowing in a bright light that caused her to fade from sight, taking her on a one way trip to the New York City Spire.

  With renewed energy in knowing tonight wouldn't be wasted, Maddox stood and crossed the room to fetch her gown from the closet. It was still wrapped in the protective covering as she hung it on the hook attached to the door, then peeled off her robe.

  Yet, while unzipping the bag, she became distracted as an item fell out of it, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Looking down, she spied a black velvet box at her feet—a jewelry box—and lifted it to open.

  Inside was a long string of pearls with a few glittering ruby baubles attached, including a note that she quickly snatched to unfold and read.

  Saw these in an online shop and thought they'd make a nice gift after all the dead ends. -Stephan

  Maddox inhaled a sharp breath, then looked the gift over again. She adored pearls—a fact he must've noticed over the past month—and the necklace was particularly gorgeous with the red gems added for a bit of color. It even fit the scarlet hue of her sleeveless, trumpet dress and would make a nice accessory to add.

  But was it a gesture of kindness alone, or something more?

  The question ruined whatever sense of optimism Foxy's visit had offered. Maddox was so tired of not knowing, of having no information on her sire, and feeling so completely inept that she impulsively shut the box and tugged the vanity drawer open to shove it inside.

  She simply couldn't wear the pearls, not until she knew the truth, and proceeded to don her gown with jerky, unrefined movements. Normally, she wouldn't have allowed herself to be so bothered, but the further she got, the more she felt like crying, only realizing once her dress was zipped up that tears were already tracking dark lines down her cheeks.

  Taking a page from Stephan's book, she muttered, “For fuck's sakes,” and grabbed a few tissues to mop up the trails without smudging anymore of her makeup.

  Yet the tears continued to fall.

  Sitting in the stool, she slowly slumped over her vanity and let them, wondering if it was too much to hope the coming night could give her something, anything to hold onto.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Stephan wasn't certain if it was a miracle, but somehow, he'd survived until the masquerade without any unusual trouble from his illness.

  Not that he'd completely enjoyed the ride.

  Straightening his tie, he gave himself a quick once over in the bathroom mirror. The tux he wore was all Maddox's doing—a black overcoat and shirt with a dark red vest and tie, painting a pretty picture about the activities they were going to engage in that evening.

  But he had to wonder where the coming night would truly lead them, particularly after spending three long weeks frustrated from denying him
self.

  Ever since he'd told Maddox he'd die before they'd be together, she'd desisted in speaking of her interest, though it was hard to tell if he'd genuinely snuffed it out. On occasion, she'd playfully flirt, and it took everything Stephan had not to respond the way he wanted.

  After three weeks of working with her, his feelings had grown to an unbearable degree. From Maddox's personality to her physical appeal, there wasn't a single thing he'd change about her—not her feeding habits, her predatory instincts, nothing—and he damned near put a fist through a wall whenever he thought about how much he was pushing away.

  Hell, he even thought her fangs were sexy, and sometimes wondered how she'd react if he nicked his tongue on them during a kiss just to tease her with a hint of blood.

  Would she find it arousing? Ask for more?

  Stephan had never been willing to give any vampire blood before, and he still wasn't. But the thought of feeding Maddox was incredibly appealing—and frustrating in being just another example of the many things he'd never be able to give her.

  And the stronger his feelings became, the more he wanted to tell her the truth, but the less he felt able to do so. His attempts to prevent emotional attachments from forming on her end seemed to have worked, but he couldn't stand the thought of hurting her with the truth, no matter how deeply that hurt might go.

  He was also having trouble maintaining his usual indifference over his own life because of it. Stephan hadn't agreed to look for Wesley Longfellow hoping for a miracle, but now it was nearly all he could think about.

  Was there actually a chance? Did his life have to fall into obscurity?

  Or was he deluding himself?

  Whatever the answers were, tonight was their chance to obtain them, and Stephan wasn't going to waste it.

  Still not wearing that mask, though. He glowered at the item laying on the counter, deciding to conveniently forget it was there as he grabbed his casual clothes and exited the bathroom.