Fallen Hearts

by Angela Colsin

  Maddox grinned, whispering, “I'm holding you to that.”

  “I hope you do,” he returned in earnest, slipping further down her body where he placed a kiss just below her navel, grasping her inner thighs to spread them wide.

  Maddox's smile faded as she watched herself being exposed to his gaze, and the virile groan of excitement he let over the sight of her naked flesh left her in a state of aching anticipation. Her breasts heaved until she gasped and forgot to exhale when he pressed the pad of his index against her clitoris and circled it slowly.

  “I might just enjoy this more than you,” he murmured, sliding his finger down to rub against her slick entrance, then used her wetness against the swollen bud.

  It'd been so long since anyone touched her that way that she could barely form a response, arching her back as pleasure enveloped her.

  “I doubt that,” she finally rasped with as much playfulness as she could muster.

  Stephan grinned, admitting, “I hope you're right. It's been a long time since I've done this, but I'll just have to practice at it until you're screaming.”

  Somehow, the notion had Maddox' heart fluttering, particularly when he pressed his lips against her inner thigh and trailed kisses toward her pussy. Her gaze locked on his mouth as it moved, inching until she could feel the heat of it against her core just before it covered her completely.

  She stiffened in response, whimpering his name as his tongue lightly traced her seam before batting at her clit, once, then twice, followed by slowly rolling into it. Stephan let a loud, masculine groan of satisfaction in the process, and Maddox jerked, the sound alone setting her blood aflame.

  But her excitement ratcheted even more when she heard his pulse racing excitedly as well.

  If this was just practice, then she wasn't sure she could stand the real deal, her hips writhing and fingers tangling in his hair while he spent long moments just laving her clit—then began to suck on it.

  “Oh … fuck!”

  Stephan let a low, “Mmm,” in response, lashing her with hard flicks of his tongue, driving her insane.

  Her breasts heaved as she cried his name, her pleasure building, sending her toward a hard orgasm that she desperately craved—until he stopped and pulled back.

  “Stephan!” she cried, looking down to see him watching her intently.

  “You're so damned sexy,” he murmured gruffly.

  Ready to demand he keep going, the words turned into a throaty moan when one of his thick digits slowly sank into her slick walls.

  “Don't wanna let you come,” he went on, adding a second finger to grind inside of her. “Want you right on the edge.”

  Maddox sat up on an elbow, clutching his shoulder in the other hand just as he started thrusting in and out, and the resulting pleasure sent her right back down onto the mattress.

  “Please!”

  “Still practicing, remember?”

  “But … ah!” she cried when his mouth returned to her, barely able to focus on anything but the way his fingers worked in unison with his tongue, furiously licking her sensitive bud, only to slow to a near stop when she tensed.

  He repeated that process until she couldn't take it anymore, her back coming off the bed with the hardest orgasm she'd ever had. Stephan had to latch an arm around her hips to keep her still while she cried his name, slamming her hand into the wall of the alcove, the other grasping his arm in a tight clutch as the world spiraled out of control.

  And he didn't stop there—neither of them did.

  Maddox came twice more, once sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs over his shoulders, and the third time settled on the floor with her lover as they stroked each other to release. Their bodies writhed together in a frenzy to experience everything they possibly could, driven by the mounting frustration the past several weeks had caused—as well as an irritating sense of finality that became more prevalent as time passed.

  What if they never got another chance?

  In the aftermath, the couple lay on the floor tangled in each others' arms, panting for breath. The only thing Maddox still desired was a taste of Stephan's blood, but she certainly wasn't complaining otherwise.

  “That was better than I'd imagined,” Stephan groaned, unwittingly concurring with her thoughts.

  “Then you'd better brace yourself,” she purred playfully, “because we're just getting started.”

  Looking up from his chest, she spied a contented smile as his hand drew up and down her side. But his expression soon faded to a more curious look with the question, “Have you fed tonight?”

  “Actually, I was about to ask you to get a bath ready while I grabbed a canister.”

  “A bath sounds good,” Stephan admitted. “I just wish I could feed you myself.”

  Hearing this, Maddox lifted her head, asking incredulously, “You'd give me your blood?”

  At that, his smile faded to a more serious mien, and he sat up, clasping her chin to tilt her head, then captured her mouth in a meaningful kiss that left her dazed. The moment it broke, he rasped, “I love you, Maddox, and if you needed it, I'd give every drop.”

  Her breath left her in a rush. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so stunned after he'd admitted his willingness to make her happy for eternity if she wanted such a thing, but it was still strange to hear.

  Even more rewarding, however, was his declaration of love, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, murmuring, “I love you, too, Stephan. I truly do.”

  With his arms tightening around her, a regretful sigh escaped his lips. “Didn't think I'd ever get to hear that, but at the same time … ”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered, laying his cheek against her temple. “I just … don't want this moment to end.”

  She could certainly sympathize. Without knowing how much time he had left, that sense of urgency to treat every moment together as if it was their last plagued her. But as much as she wanted to sit around simply enjoying his company like there was no tomorrow, she couldn't, because in this case, no tomorrow could be literal.

  With the thought in mind, she lifted her head to qualify, “We should return to the Spire and check their library, see if there's anything worth looking into.” A little more reluctantly, she added, “Also, you're a votary, so is there any chance your divinian patron might know more?”

  Stephan scoffed. “I'm pretty sure there's a ton of shit Ardilon knows that he's not telling me.”

  “Ardilon?” Maddox stared at him blankly. “The Dead God is your patron?”

  Stephan seemed curious over her surprise. “Yeah, why?”

  “I've just heard of him, mostly through Mathias. They weren't good friends exactly, but they respected each other.”

  “Yeah, Ardilon said he knew Mathias, just not how well. As for asking him about Sutrelle, I'd have to actually find him first.”

  “Can't you just … call him?”

  Stephan shook his head. “Divinians don't really work that way. If your patron wants you, they'll find you, not the other way around. A votary's job is just to have faith, serve, and obey their orders.”

  Maddox pursed her lips over the explanation. If asked for an opinion, most supernaturals would complain that divinians were pompous, and Stephan's description certainly fit that assertion.

  But their talk of the holy warriors brought to mind an obscure fact that could potentially save Stephan's life, and Maddox didn't waste any time asking over it.

  “Wait, can't votaries become divinians through service? Could you?”

  Stephan was shaking his head before she'd even finished her question. “That takes a lifetime of dedication, and it's not up to Ardilon if I became one. It's up to the god he serves.”

  “Oh,” she muttered, frustrated over their lack of options. “Well, I suppose it's for the best. I'd rather—I mean … ,” she trailed, realizing she was about to say she'd rather spend her eternity with him as a vampire, and wasn't certain how Stephan might react to
the sentiment.

  Yet he shrugged, asking casually, “You'd rather what? Turn me?”

  Cautiously, she offered a slow nod. “I didn't mean—”

  Stephan cut her off with another kiss. “I know what you meant, and I'd rather live that way with you as well.”

  “You really wouldn't mind being turned after everything that's happened to you?”

  Groaning, he admitted, “I won't lie, I'm not sure about surviving on blood alone, or never seeing the sun again. But you've shown me another side of that life, and besides, if a lover's bond eliminates the need to feed on anyone but you, it'd be easier to handle.”

  With that said, he exhaled low. “Still feels like I'll jinx myself by believing there's a chance it could happen, though. I never hoped for a cure before now, but damned if I don't want it, especially after tonight.”

  Drawing her fingers across his jaw, Maddox smiled, able to think of a very good reason why he shouldn't worry.

  “I don't think you'll jinx anything.”

  “Oh? Why's that?”

  “Because,” she drew out meaningfully, “if Stephan Forrester can fall in love with a vampire, anything's possible.”

  33

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hope was a foreign concept.

  For hours, Stephan struggled with it, and every time he thought about what it would be like to live forever with Maddox, a disparaging voice in the back of his head threw out some negative comment like you wish or in your fucking dreams.

  After believing his life was over for so long, it was hard to keep that voice quiet.

  But then he'd gaze at the vampire sleeping against him, her dark hair fanned out in loose ringlets and her cheek against his shoulder with a hand over his heart as if she owned it.

  And she did. Every bit of it.

  He took her hand to hold it there with more contentment than he'd experienced in a very long time. She was right, he loved a vampire, and absolutely cherished her love for him in return. So was it really impossible to think he might actually be saved?

  At the thought, that irritating voice returned. Might not be impossible, but it's not probable either.

  Stephan rolled his eye.

  Such thoughts made it hard to rest as the day passed them by, and whenever he woke, he'd tighten his hold around Maddox and try to figure out some way to expedite their search, but couldn't come up with any ideas. Eradin was already looking for an entrance into Sutrelle, and Maddox only had to wait until dark before checking the Spire's library.

  It nearly made him want to leave ahead of her, but by the time he got there, it would be nightfall, and Maddox could travel more swiftly in mist.

  So he tried to rest, drifting in and out of consciousness until he simply couldn't lay there any longer, and finally got up.

  Putting on his jeans, he made a pit stop in the bathroom upstairs, then headed toward the kitchen for a bite to eat. In the process, he noticed the sun was already setting, meaning Maddox would be awake soon anyway, and the thought was accented by his phone ringing as he passed the hearth in the living room.

  Coming to a stop, he pulled the device out of his pocket and didn't bother to check the ID before answering, “Yeah?”

  “Stephan, it's Eradin. Is Maddox sleeping?”

  Hearing the wizard's voice, he couldn't help but wonder if the elf had news, replying, “Yeah, why? Did you find something?”

  “Nothing conclusive, but I have found traces. Is this a good time to deliver these tomes?”

  “As good as any,” Stephan related, though his attention was soon drawn away from the conversation when he noticed a random, folded note pinned to the mantle over the hearth. Eradin continued speaking, but he ignored the elf in favor of inspecting the strange piece of … parchment?

  Confused, he plucked it from the mantel to unfold, but nothing was written on either side. What the hell?

  “Stephan? Are you there?”

  “Yeah, sorry, I just found a weird piece of paper pinned to the mantle. I thought it was a note, but there's nothing written on it.”

  “It wasn't there before?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “Keep it. I'll be there momentarily.”

  “Alright,” Stephan agreed, hanging up the phone while wondering just how long it might take a wizard who could open a portal to arrive.

  “Stephan? Who were you talking to?”

  Looking up as Maddox entered the living room in her robe, Stephan shoved his phone back into his jeans pocket and told her, “Eradin, actually. He said he has some information.”

  “Did he say what?”

  “No, but he's coming here now. Also,” Stephan lifted the parchment, “any idea what this is?”

  Approaching him, Maddox took the note with a confused expression. “No, I—,” she paused the moment she unfolded it—then exhaled in surprise.

  Stephan looked from the item and back at her face, asking, “What is it?”

  Looking up with a set of widened eyes, she exclaimed, “It's Mathias' handwriting!”

  “Handwriting?” Baffled, Stephan pointed out, “There's nothing on the paper, Maddox.”

  “You don't see my name here?”

  She swept her finger across a blank area on the note, and Stephan shook his head. “No.”

  “That's because it's magically encrypted for one person's eyes only. In this case, Maddox is the recipient.”

  Eradin's voice abruptly sounded from the entry way of the living room where he'd appeared, and unlike the previous night, he was now dressed in a mage's ornate robes of deep blue and silver with his long hair hanging down around the square collar. In one arm, he carried three tomes that looked rather aged, and in his other hand was a tall, silver staff with elegant etchings carved into the sides and three green gems glinting at the tip.

  Entering the room, he settled the tomes on the coffee table and motioned to the note. “You say it's Mathias' handwriting?”

  “Yes,” Maddox nodded, and proceeded to read the message aloud. “It says I know you've been worried for me, but I promise all is well. However, forces beyond my control have made it impossible for me to come to you, so I'm bringing you to me in Sutrelle. I'll explain everything there, but beware, enemies are watching closely, and the gate can only be opened by The Five and their direct descendants, meaning you.”

  The information provided in the note had the three of them exchanging a glance, and Eradin was the first to break the silence, muttering, “It seems I scoured those tomes for naught.”

  “Maybe. Did Mathias say where to go?” Stephan asked Maddox.

  “No, but there's a sigil below the fold, and he's instructing me to prepare for a journey, then burn this note at sunset and the fire will lead the way to the cemetery where the gate is located. I have to touch the face on the sarcophagus to open it.”

  “Clever,” Eradin mused.

  “What's clever?”

  Approaching them, the wizard lifted his hand, and a flame ignited in his palm. “It's sunset now, so burn the note and you'll see.”

  Maddox looked at Stephan as if seeking his opinion, and he nodded. “Do it.”

  “Okay,” she drew out, lifting the paper to Eradin's flame, and pulled it back once it was lit.

  After several moments, the flame suddenly burst to life, destroying the note entirely. But nothing more happened—at least, until Maddox looked toward the doorway in surprise.

  “There's a trail,” she qualified. “It's leading out of the mansion.”

  “Yes, a magician's trick,” Eradin remarked. “The sigil you burned was a beacon, and the trail will continue on until you find its end.”

  Stephan grew silent for several moments following the revelation. All they had to do to enter Sutrelle was follow a magic path to its gate?

  The simplicity of it prompted that voice to qualify if someone doesn't stop you first.

  Stephan rolled his eye. Would you just shut the fuck up for once?

  Knowing Maddox wo
uld be eager to get started, he ignored his negativity and asked Eradin, “You coming along?”

  Without hesitation, the wizard nodded. “Yes. This concerns Wesley, and it's a chance for me to rectify a personal matter. Besides, the note mentioned enemies watching, and you may need help dealing with them.”

  Stephan couldn't argue with that. Having the assistance of a powerful wizard would be extremely useful, so whatever Eradin's reasons for going, he was more than welcome on this trip.

  “Alright,” he started, unwilling to waste time. “Let's get ready.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Maddox couldn't prepare for their journey fast enough.

  In her dressing room, she donned a plain burgundy shirt with a pair of jeans and boots, wondering exactly where the magical path might lead them.

  Still, she had to admit, “This trail is getting annoying. It's following me around.”

  No matter where she went, the shimmering path of light followed as if she was projecting it, and Stephan quirked a curious brow from his place near the dressing room door, slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder containing a few travel supplies. Aside from essentials such as blood and clothing, they weren't certain what to pack, but tried to be as thorough as possible to prepare for any possibility.

  “What does it look like?”

  Maddox stood from lacing up her boots and waved a hand through the trail, explaining as she joined Stephan at the door, “A path of light that wafts like smoke.”

  He immediately pulled her into his arms once she was within reach, and she grinned, asking curiously, “Do you think we'll have to travel far?”

  “Maybe, so we shouldn't waste time. Don't need the sun coming up while we're looking.”

  “Right, but it may take several hours. Are you sure you're up for traveling that long in mist?”

  “I'll deal with it,” he nodded. “Besides, let's say you do turn me. I don't wanna be the only vampire who doesn't use mist to my advantage, so I need to get used to it.”

  Grinning, she cupped his cheeks and leaned up for a kiss, delighted by his groan of enjoyment. So she kissed him again.