Cross My Heart

by Elizabeth Morgan

  Taking hold of my mug, I stood. “No, just until I find a job where my skill set will actually be some use.”

  Without another glance at my father, I moved round the table and headed toward the basement door.

  “Danielle, dinner’s almost ready.”

  “I will eat later, Ma,” I called, halfway down the stairs.

  ***

  “You’ve been down here a long time.”

  My mother’s apron was gone. Left in jeans and a cream sweater, she looked like she belonged down here in the family training room. Arms folded, she leant against the door frame, watching me.

  “Just training,” I replied, and threw a punch at the red leather bag hanging before me. “Don’t want my dull day job to cause my joints and abilities t’rust up.”

  To an outsider, this space would look like a gym—whitewashed walls, white spotlights beaming from the ceiling, grey carpet, and all the usual exercise equipment knocking around the place, plus a sparring area and fridge full of water. At the other end of the room, through the thick wooden door, you’d find the sauna and showers. Yeah, it was all just a harmless home gym with some added luxuries.

  However, if they had chosen the door across the way from the one my mother leant against, the more serious-looking aluminium door, which was stood next to the second security panel—the first one being situated at the basement door at the bottom of the stairs leading from our kitchen—they would be surprised to find an armoury, slash family museum, slash archive that basically took up the remaining space of the basement.

  As a child, our freakishly large basement had reminded me of those rooms you saw in James Bond films, the ones that were hidden and full of gadgets and men experimenting with them. Our basement was very much a secret agent’s headquarters, or rather, a Vampire Hunter’s training ground.

  “You should just ignore your Da.” My mother moved farther into the room. “He’s still adjusting to the fact y’have a job.”

  A sharp laugh escaped me.

  “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? You don’t adjust to the idea of your twenty-five-year-old daughter getting a job.” I belted the bag once more. “Having a job is normal. It’s a normal part of a person’s life.”

  “Not for his family.”

  “So, are we all just doomed t’walk in the same steps as everyone before us? Times have changed. Being a Vampire Hunter might have worked well in the medieval ages where you were going t’die young anyway.” I walked over to the fridge, pulling the door open and retrieving a bottle of water. “Plus, you were poor and career options were practically non-existent for women, but this is the twenty-first century, which means I really only have two options: I either move somewhere with more activity and continue t’fight the good fight and fulfil my apparent, ongoing purpose in this age old family legacy, or …”

  “Or?” she promoted after a moment.

  I unscrewed the lid and turned to face her.

  “I lay down my sword and try and have a normal, Vampire-free, life.” I shrugged. “Is it so wrong that I might want that?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you should let Da know.” I took a mouthful of water and swallowed. “He acts as if I’ve stabbed him in the back.”

  “I love your father, Lord knows I do, but it would be a lie for me t’say that this was how I envisaged my life. So, I’d be a damn hypocrite if I said I didn’t want something better for you, sweet pea.” She perched on the edge of the bench press. “Naturally, I want you t’be alive and happy, not fighting your way to an early grave, but just know that if you’re really meant t’do a certain something with your life, go somewhere, be with someone, fate is going to take you there regardless of how hard you fight against her.”

  “What are you getting at, Ma?”

  “It’s not wrong for you t’want t’have a ‘normal’ life, but honestly, I don’t think this family will ever truly be free t’have any form of life until Marko is dead.”

  “And once he is?”

  “None of us know for sure, but we all believe, have done, that there should at least be less Vampires walking the Earth after his demise, weaker ones, which after the last four centuries, I think it is safe t’say we have made our peace with that.”

  So many members of our family had died for this insane cause—my uncle Jean and cousin Alexis being the more recent two. Sofia at least had died from normal causes, not that cancer was a good way for anyone to die, but it was more natural than being shredded to pieces by one of the undead.

  I slumped on the chair of the weight machine, elbows on my knees.

  “I’m so fed-up, Ma, and I’m sick of sitting around, twiddling my god damn thumbs waiting day after day for a Vamp t’show up just so I can kill it and kid myself into thinking that the world is a little safer.” I rolled the plastic bottle between my palms, watching the water move on the inside. “There are traces of evil everywhere. It’s not just the undead we should be concerned about.”

  “Then become a supernatural private investigator.”

  I laughed. “Da wasn’t too thrilled when I decided t’go and get m’self a part-time job just to fill the void. What makes you think he would be pleased if I decided to teeter off the path and put my unusual skill set t’some actual use?”

  It shouldn’t have mattered what my father thought, but it annoyed me that he couldn’t see past this life, that he couldn’t want more than what he had been thrust into. He’d already lost the use of his legs due to a fatal blow to his spine during a Vampire attack which occurred when I was fourteen. You’d have thought that—amongst a million other reasons and family deaths—would have hit home for him, made him realize that life is fragile and this crazy family legacy of ours was really freaking dangerous, life-threatening.

  But no, the loss of his legs naturally pissed him off and therefore made him more determined for revenge, for vengeance. Unfortunately, he couldn’t comprehend the reality of our current situation. The Vampires had vanished once Heather and Sofia had left. It had been two years, and activity hadn’t picked up. Staying here in Wicklow was pointless if any of us wanted to be any use. None of us could fulfil our purpose where we were. I couldn’t do shit here.

  “Has this current evaluation of your life got anything t’do with Nathan?”

  My chest tightened ever so slightly at the question.

  Five days ago, I’d found out that my childhood best friend—well, the only friend I’d ever had—was missing. According to his mother, he had been missing for six weeks, or at least that was what she presumed since it had been over a month since his last postcard. I had been surprised to hear Lorna’s voice through the receiver; it had been years. Twelve to be exact.

  She’d forgotten all about me, which was why she was only just calling to see if I’d heard off her son. I’d wanted to be hurt at her words, at the idea that I was so forgettable ... which at least explains why Than never contacts you anymore. He’s forgotten all about you ... but I could hear the panic and exhaustion in her voice, and I’d hated having to kill that hint of hope that had rung in between her words, but it was the truth: I hadn’t seen Than for at least ten years.

  We had made a promise that we would keep in touch, that we would see each other as much as we could, and he had visited for the first two years after he and his family had left, until his grandmother died, last family member and actual blood tie they had to Ireland. He and his parents never came back after that, and there was no way that my father was ever going to let me visit Switzerland, at least not until I was eighteen, but by that point, I was lucky if I even received an email from Than twice a year.

  “Nathan could be dead,” I uttered, not sure if I was saying that to myself or to my mother.

  I was torn between not wanting to care and wanting to just jump in my Range Rover and go find him even though I was pissed that he had all but forgotten about me. He had been the only person—who wasn’t family—I had actually, genuinely cared about, and even though he
might not have ever thought about me after leaving, the idea that he could be dead somewhere out in the world, away from his family, from people who actually cared about him ... scared me. It scared me more than it should have.

  “And Lord knows what Heather could be involved in,” I added. “And what am I doing? Sitting around waiting for my next shift to start.” I looked up, staring at the blank wall across the way from me. “I should be out there looking for him, helping Heather? Isn’t that what Da is getting at? Isn’t that one of the points for our training, so we can help those who need it?”

  “Say you did go t’look for Nathan. Where would you even start? His mother has no idea where he was travelling to next. He could be anywhere in the whole world.”

  A needle in one massive haystack.

  “I know.” I sagged against the back rest. “But not looking for him just feels so wrong.”

  “But without a starting point ...” she trailed off.

  Without a hint of where he could be ... I couldn’t do anything for Nathan but pray. And what good will that do? He had last been in London, and I wasn’t sure if that was the only place you visited in the UK before moving off to another country, or if you explored a little. Had he gone up north? Was he planning to visit Ireland? Visit me?

  Get real. As if he cares about you. Don’t be such a fool.

  I shouldn’t care what had happened to him. His mother not hearing from him didn’t have to mean something had happened to him—his postcards could have been delayed or lost in the post. It happened. And yet, telling myself all that didn’t stop the little niggle at the back of my head, the unease that sat in the pit of my stomach.

  I pushed myself up, feeling agitated once more. “If Da wants me t’be of some use, then the least I can do is go help Heather. We weren’t there for her when Sofia passed—”

  “It was Sofia’s wish that only Heather be present for the funeral.”

  “Regardless, we should have gone over and stayed for a while. Just been there for Heather. She’s lost enough loved ones in her short life, and now to be alone ...”

  She’d lost her mother when she was eight, never knew her father, and now Sofia, who had practically raised her due to Alexis slowly losing her mind because she had been infected by the Vampyricc Virus. Heather was all alone. Sofia’s wishes or not, we shouldn’t have left her on her own, not when the Vampires had a personal interest in her.

  “Sofia never did anything without a reason. Even if her actions and choices sometimes came across as selfish or uncaring, there was always a reason, and I believe there was a reason why she didn’t want us at her funeral. We just have t’respect that. Besides, Heather is stronger than she looks and can easily take care of herself.”

  I paced, tapping the base of the water bottle against my left palm. “It’s not like she has a choice.”

  She brushed a chunk of hair behind her ear, her hair a lighter shade than mine, almost bordering on dark ginger. “I spoke t’her the other week. She knows you will go if she needs you.”

  “Ack, she would never ask for help. The girl has a hero complex thanks to Sofia, which is probably the main reason she was pissed that Sofia had sent a Werewolf t’help her.”

  How did Sofia even know a Werewolf?

  “She’s not happy about that, but I don’t think any of us would be happy t’wake up and find a stranger in our home, let alone a Werewolf who claims Sofia asked him to be there. She’s confused, and I hate the fact that I’m not able t’shed any light on the situation for her. Sofia was extremely private.”

  That’s an understatement.

  “Well, Sofia should have spoken t’me. I should be the one who is there helping, not some stranger. This family legacy is as much mine to undertake as it is Heather’s, yours, Da, and any other family members who are still living.”

  Not that our distant relatives seemed to give as much of a shit as my family did. Even though he said he was in touch with those who were left, I doubted they were doing anything to help this age-old cause of ours. No, they had probably given up long ago, realizing how crazy it all was and choosing to fight for a life instead.

  “So why am I stuck here while she’s off trying t’take down an entire species?”

  “I dare say she wants t’be out there on her own.” She pushed herself off the bench. “None of this is t’be taken lightly, Elle.”

  “Christ, Ma, give me some credit.” I stopped, my hands coming to rest on my hips. “I’ve never been foolish enough t’believe I’m indestructible or t’want more than anything to run into the United Colony with my metaphorical guns blazing, but that’s not t’say Heather won’t do that. I can’t imagine her head’s in a good place at the moment.”

  “She sounded fine.” Uncertainty flashed in her eyes, her expression less convincing than her words.

  “Saying you’re okay doesn’t mean you actually are, Ma. Regardless of what she thinks, what she has been made to think, she needs all the help she can get, and I can’t sit back and expect her t’do what we have both been trained t’do.”

  My mother pointed at herself and then me. “What we have all been trained t’do.”

  “She could have a life too. I know she has always believed that t’be impossible considering her ... mutation, but I think she could. I think we both could, and as easy as it would be for me t’hide here in Ireland... It’s not fair of me t’let her sacrifice that possibility just so I can get on with my own life.”

  For all the speeches my father gave about getting out there and fighting the good fight, he had chosen a strange location to set up house. Don’t get me wrong—my home was lovely, and our land was beautiful, breath-taking, so much so it could be quite easy to hide here in between the forest, loch, and mountains. We were snuggled away in nature, a purposeful choice as we were safe and cut off from our neighbours so when trouble did come knocking and it had ... our land was private, but still, you could easily forget about the rest of the world in this safe haven. Forget that there were bad things lurking out there in the dark.

  “Something’s brewing, Ma. It has t’be for Sofia t’ask a Werewolf t’help out.”

  She walked over to me, placing her hands on my upper arms. “I know, sweet. That’s what I’m worried about, especially as Heather mentioned that Sofia had seen Luca in London.”

  And she was worried—I could see it swirling in her eyes, that beautiful mix of olive and hazel. My mother had kind eyes, caring eyes. Not the eyes of someone who had killed monsters, but I had seen for myself how handy she was, how her fire had died a little once my father had lost his legs.

  My father wanted me to continue the good fight whereas the appeal had vanished a long time ago for my mother, and she was quite content in this sanctuary, hidden away behind walls and shrubbery. I hated to admit it, but perhaps I was more like my father than I wanted to be, because I couldn’t live like this, not any longer.

  Especially not now. Not when my cousin was out there looking for a second-generation Vampire who had a direct link to Marko. It was foolish of me to leave it to Heather and this stranger. I should have gone sooner.

  “I can’t just continue t’sit here. I’m restless. I need t’go to her. Regardless of if she says no, I think it’s the right thing t’do.”

  “I’ll give her a call now and see if she’s home.” She leant forward and pressed a kiss against my hairline, released me, and started to make her way toward the door. “You may have t’go to work and quit, seeing as you don’t know how long you will be with Heather.”

  “Well—” I walked back to the punch bag. “—at least Da will be happy.”

  Chapter Three

  ~ Nathan ~

  Tuesday 13th October, 2015

  8:49pm

  It was crazy how going back to a place after years brought a dream-like haze with it, how it seemed and felt as though you had stepped back in time, or into a memory. The odd sensation that stirred in your stomach because the scents in the air were the same and you remember
ed every step down the road and every house or tree as if you had only seen them yesterday. A large dose of nostalgia had swamped me the moment I’d passed the ‘Welcome to Wicklow’ sign, and even though it was night, I could recall every walk I had taken with Elle along the streets of our hometown.

  Nothing seemed to have changed except me—a fact that I had spent the last two nights trying to wrap my head around. On reading through the rest of my file, I had learnt that something named VV had been injected into my heart, which was what had both killed me and kept me in this undead state. The rest was records of my appetite and the types of blood I’d been fed. There were more details about my balls—the Vampires had put my sperm on ice for some crazy reason.

  The rest of it, well, I didn’t really understand. Why did Vampires have a facility for experimenting? I thought they just liked to stalk graveyards and nightclubs, drink blood, and depending on which era and stereotype you wanted to roll with, have a lot of sex.

  A lot of the facts that I already knew about Vampires had become more evident now I was out in the open. My sight was insane; it was almost as if I had a built-in telescope because if I looked long enough, I could see the details of a leaf, I could see the bug that was currently walking along the side of the wall even though he was as black as the night sky and I was five feet and eight inches taller than him. My hearing was what I imagined dogs’ to be—I could hear people snoring in the houses I passed ... and I could run incredibly fast, even when shackled with silver, which was actually a blessing when you were running through a strange forest in the middle of the night trying to get away from Vampires and Wolves. Not to mention a little voice telling you that you had to get somewhere safe before sunrise otherwise you would be dust—a worrying thought especially because I had no idea at the time if there was anywhere safe for me to go.

  “There had been no need for you to panic.” Elle walked alongside me, her hands shoved in the pockets of her dungarees.