Novel Hearts

by Rebecca Boucher

  “Nay, never,” Lucia said, clearly amused. “We’re just looking forward to a safe passage to America.”

  “The name’s Brandon … Peter Brandon,” the blonde gentleman said, offering his hand. I shook it, but then his eyebrows pulled together, concerned. “Ye hand … it’s so cold.”

  “Well, it be cold out here and we’ve been traveling in the open for a bit,” I replied, trying to cover, making a mental note not to shake hands with people unless it was necessary or unless I wore gloves. I knew that would be the first thing I bought, when I could. Then, I turned my attention back to Jones. “Where be the stables, again?”

  “Right this way,” Jones said, slapping me on the back. “Worry not about thy wife. My Misses will show her to your quarters and then ye can join her.”

  “Thank ye,” I said. As I followed Mr. Jones to the stables, I gave Lucia a worried look over my shoulder. She gave me an encouraging glance back, telling me not to worry, but after what happened in our village, I didn’t want to leave her alone for long … no matter how much power she possessed.

  Not long after, I joined Lucia in our quarters. The room was small, but private, knowing that being a vampire on a long voyage would be taxing to my control. And on a ship—no matter how big or small—word would spread quickly.

  “How are ye, love?” she asked, running a finger along the dark circles under my eyes. To a human, it probably looked like I was just tired, but in reality, I needed to feed.

  “I be fine,” I said, pulling her into my arms. “How are ye?”

  “Fine,” she said, but I could tell she was tired.

  I nodded. “Why don’t ye stay here and rest while I borrow Brandon’s bow to hunt.”

  Lucia laughed. “Dearest, ye needn’t a bow.”

  “Aye, but they don’t know that,” I replied, enjoying hearing her laugh again. “Rest and I shalt return soon.”

  She nodded and I helped her settle into the small bed meant for the two of us. Of course, I didn’t need as much sleep as humans. We can go for extended periods of time before we need sleep, but then we go into a coma, of sorts, appearing to be dead.

  Brandon obliged, loaning me his bow and arrows and I came back shortly with a stag. It was enough for everyone on the ship, but for only one meal. I made a deal with Jones, telling him that I would hunt every day to save our supplies until we set sail. Meanwhile, I loaded up on blood to the point of gluttony in preparation for the long voyage ahead. It worked out well, but Brandon soon became suspicious.

  Within a few more days, we set sail. On the Mayflower, there were many shops where a person could buy supplies for use in New World, so Lucia and I enjoyed walking the deck in the evening before the ships closed, collecting supplies that we would need. The ship made its way down the Thames into the English Channel and on to Southampton Water, where we waited.

  “Why have we stopped, Mr. Jones?” I asked him one day on the deck while taking a leisurely stroll.

  “We be awaiting the arrival of another ship, the Speedwell,” he replied. “They will sail with us to America.”

  I nodded. Although I was concerned, I concealed it well. I knew that the longer it took for us to reach America, the harder it would be for me to find blood and to conceal my vampirism, as it later came to be known. “How long will we be waiting?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “They’re on their way, so it shant be long,” Jones replied, then one corner of his mouth curled into a half smile. “Why? Are ye in a hurry to get to America?”

  I laughed, then said, “Aye, a bit, I guess.” If the circumstances were different, I knew that Captain Jones and I could have become great friends, but after what happened to Lucia’s parents, I trusted no one with my secret.

  We waited another week until the Speedwell finally joined us. We started for the New World but the Speedwell sprang a leak. We had to go back and repair it quickly, but when we started out again, it sprang another leak. Jones suspected foul play, as the captain of the Speedwell always appeared nervous when America was mentioned, but this time, the Speedwell went back and we finally embarked on our journey.

  Lucia and I stayed in our cabin as much as possible, but the effects of having no blood was wearing on me. At night, I crept down to the hull of the Mayflower and fed on the blood of rats that lived there. The blood was rancid, but it sustained me temporarily. Then, one night Lucia surprised me. “Feed from me,” she said as she once again touched the slight purple patches beneath my eyes.

  “Lucia, I cannot take advantage of ye …”

  “Take advantage?” she said with a laugh. “I was the one that made ye into what ye are.” She took a step toward me, but picked up a knife that lie on the small dresser and slit a wide cut on her hand. Then, she held it out to me, as her blood pooled into her cupped hand. “Feed from me,” she repeated, and this time, I couldn’t resist. In an instant, I was at her side, holding her cupped hand within my own. I looked pleadingly into her eyes, warring with my love for her and my insatiable need for blood. She nodded with a smile and I raised her cupped hand to my lips and drank, careful to stop before I took too much. Soon, I pulled back, cut my own hand, and fed it to her. A moment later, her hand was completely healed, and she didn’t feel the effects of the blood loss as much, either.

  Afterward, I held her within my arms, then my lips descended upon hers hungrily, craving another need almost as strong as my need for her blood. Our lips moved in familiar ways as passion enveloped us both within the privacy of our cabin.

  The journey was arduous and Lucia and I continued in this way, but I tried to wait to feed from her for as long as I possibly could. I didn’t want to kill her accidentally by taking too much blood too soon. So, I kept up my trips to the ship’s hull and the rats, as well. One night after one of my trips from the ship’s hull, Mr. Brandon was waiting for me. “Out for an evening stroll?” he asked.

  “Aye indeed,” I replied, straightening my shirt. “Lovely night.”

  I tried to pass by, but his words stopped me. “In the ship’s hull?” he asked suspiciously, as I stared at him, waiting. “What do ye do down there?”

  “Just checking out the cargo …”

  He suddenly grabbed my arm, and I turned around and looked into his eyes, as mine flared. “Ye saw nothing. I’ve been asleep in my cabin with my wife all night,” I said.

  His eyes went blank, then he repeated, “I saw nothing.” Then, he walked on his way. It was the first time I knew that vampires had powers to control the mind. I also started hearing the thought of others within my own mind, as well, at first, afraid I was going crazy. I had to learn to control listening to people’s thoughts, learning how to block them out until I wanted to listen in. After that night, I started listening to Brandon’s thoughts often, and he remained suspicious.

  As our journey droned on, the days grew colder. One good thing was that the sun wasn’t so bright. It actually does nothing to me, but my skin glows as if slathered in baby oil in the direct sunlight. Today, it doesn’t present a problem, but in those days, it could. Most people looked pale, some sick and frail. If I walked around looking like a model who had been lying out in the sun, people would notice.

  After the night that Mr. Brandon spotted me coming up from the hull of the ship, I tried to wait longer periods of time between feeding, so as not to attract attention, but waiting too long created a risk of exposure. We were halfway through our voyage and I had waited too long between feeding, when Brandon spotted me on the deck again one night. “Out for another midnight stroll, Lee?” he asked sarcastically.

  “Aye, and thee?” I asked, hearing his strong heart pump luscious, life-giving blood through his veins …

  “Aye, and what brings ye out on such a night?” he asked, looking around at the gale that surrounded us. The storm was beating the ship, spraying water onto both Mr. Brandon and myself.

  “Nice night,” I said sarcastically. “And thee? What brings ye out on such a treacherous night?”

  “Just
out for a stroll,” he replied, as he added within his mind, and watching out for ye. I know ye are a monster, no matter what anyone else thinks.

  “So, is that what ye think?” I asked, unable to resist responding to his thoughts. “That I’m a monster?”

  Shock, then anger flitted quickly across his face. Then, he quickly composed himself and said, “So, I was right.”

  “Aye, ye are,” I replied, then grabbed him, pulled him into the ship’s hull, and sank my teeth into his neck. Despite his sour disposition, his blood was sweet and delicious, and slid down my throat, filling the far reaches of my capillaries. I drank my fill, but stopped before I drained him dry. To my horror, he was screaming that he was burning from the inside out. That was when I realized that I was venomous. If I bit my victims, then I had drain them dry, or they would turn into vampires, too. He begged me to kill him over and again. His shouting was so loud that if I didn’t do something quickly, he would expose Lucia and me. So, thinking of Lucia, I broke off a wooden stake from a nearby crate. “I am so sorry that this happened to ye,” I said, then drove the stake through his heart as his eyes opened wide in horror. Blood pooled from the wound and I took his arm and bit into it, draining him dry. After his death, I carried his limp body up the stairs of the hull. Before walking onto the deck, I looked around to ensure no one was watching, and threw his body overboard, knowing the sharks that followed our ship for scraps would take care of his body. I told no one about that night—not even Lucia—but when Brandon was discovered missing, I’m sure she knew.

  After Brandon’s disappearance, everyone was a bit more careful about walking the decks at night, creating less watching eyes for me. After that night, I could go down to the hull to feed on the rats as often as I needed, then I carried their bodies up to the deck and threw them overboard so no one became suspicious. The blood was hideous, but served its purpose.

  We finally reached America, landing at Plymouth in November, the Year of Our Lord 1620. Our landing was none too soon, as I wasn’t the only one that was starving. Many of the passengers onboard were starving, as well. It was already cold in the New World, and looked to be uninhabited. I tried to hunt game for everyone, but there was little to be had, but one day I was lucky enough to catch a bear before it hibernated. I drained it dry and I shot it with an arrow in the neck to make it look good. Then, I went back to the village to get some men to help carry the carcass back. Of course, I could easily have carried it back to the village, but they would suspect even more than they already did.

  Before long, the humans started dying off. We tried to build shelter in time, but the cold was brutal. At night when everyone slept, I worked on it at super speed without anyone knowing, but it still wasn’t enough. Also, the food supply was dwindling and children were dying of the fever, as well. It was a brutal time. And it was very hard to stand by helplessly and watch as so many humans died, many of which had become my friends. But soon, we finished the shelter and I hunted rabbits or bears sleeping in their dens. Of course, I told the others that the animals had ventured out of their dens, but most of the humans were so hungry that they didn’t care. Food was food, after all, no matter the source. But I worried the most about Lucia. She was growing weaker by the day, even though she did a protective spell over herself. She was so weak that I didn’t dare feed from her, so often times, I went longer than I should have between feedings, which wasn’t good.

  By Spring, the worst was over. The American Indians had made themselves known by then and were helping our small village as much as they could by bringing us grain and food. They even taught us how to plant and grow food.

  But by then, many had begun to suspect that something was different about me … and Lucia. So, we decided to go off on our own. Deep in the woods, I built us a cabin and it was some of the happiest days of our lives. Over time, we realized that I wasn’t aging, so Lucia performed a spell to keep herself from aging, as well. We lived happily deep in the woods for the next seventy years with neither of us aging.

  Of course, many of the passengers of the Mayflower had died off, but rumors still circulated about blood drinkers, which became worse, having been added upon by the villagers due to ignorance and fear. Many of the rumors included that vampires burst into flames in the sun, was warded off by garlic, and was afraid of crosses and holy relics—all of which are untrue. In fact, I have many holy relics that I still cherish today.

  Over time, Lucia grew hungry for the company of others, so we journeyed to another local settlement that sprang up as the population grew. We didn’t want to go back to Plymouth for fear that the rumors of blood drinkers were still running rampant. And after what happened to Lucia’s parents, we understood that people killed what they didn’t understand.

  I built us a small cabin on the outskirts of town, much like the apothecary that belonged to Lucia’s parents. Over time, Lucia began collecting herbs and planting flowers in the style of the old days.

  “What are ye doing?” a small voice asked Lucia one day.

  “Planting flowers,” Lucia replied, jabbing her finger down into the soil to plant another seed. When she turned around, a young brunette girl was there, wearing a calf-length dress and a bonnet. Her hair was in two braids and she couldn’t have been over twelve years old. “Would ye like to help?” She nodded, and soon Lucia showed the young girl how to plant. “What’s thy name?”

  “Elizabeth Hubbard,” the young girl replied, clearly enjoying working alongside my Lucia.

  I walked out the door, smiling. “Well, it looks like thou hast made a friend,” I said to my lovely wife. Both Lucia and Elizabeth looked up and smiled, then continued their work, laughing as they planted. “I’m going hunting and will be back later,” I said with a bow and a sheath of arrows slung over my shoulder to make it look good.

  “Bring us back some venison,” Lucia said over her shoulder.

  “That’s the intent,” I replied, returning the smile. In the safety of the woods, I ran as quickly as I could, enjoying the Spring day of 1692. The wind blew through my hair as I ran almost to Canada, enjoying the feel of letting my muscles stretch. Then, I caught a familiar scent and slowed as the scent of white-tail deer came rushing to my nostrils. I came to a stop and hid behind a tree. Two doe and a stag were drinking water at a small natural watering hole, taking turns keeping watch. Headed for the stag, I took off in a flash as the three deer sprinted away. I caught the five-point steer by the antlers as the two does ran off. It was between us men now.

  The deer pawed frantically with its razor sharp hooves and one caught my arm, tearing the sleeve and leaving a gash deep into the skin, but before it healed, I bared my teeth and bit into the thick skin, fur and muscle of the steer’s neck. Immediately, blood rushed into my mouth and down my throat, filling every capillary of my body. You see, vampires metabolize blood for food. It carries oxygen to every part of our bodies, just like a human’s body, but a vampire’s body uses the blood for food. If a vampire goes for too long without eating, his or her body would cease to function and would become a living corpse—unable to die, unable to move, unable to live.

  After I drank my fill, I slung the steer over my shoulders around my neck with ease, then I ran it back to my Lucia. When I arrived back to our cottage, Lucia and Elizabeth were just finishing planting flowers. “There’s my man,” Lucia said, eyeing me over her shoulder.

  “And I brought ye back some venison, just as ye asked,” I replied, giving her a quick peck on the cheek as Elizabeth watched.

  “What happened to thine arm?” Elizabeth asked, concerned, noticing the scratches on my arm and torn sleeve.

  “I be fine,” I reassured her. “Just a little scratch.”

  Lucia quickly turned her shoulders around until she was pointed toward the road. “I think it’s time for ye to go home now. Thy mother might be worried.” Then, she added. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet ye, too,” Elizabeth said, worried, but did as she was told and hurried down
the road.

  But I had a sinking feeling as I watched her go. “Lucia, I think it’s time for us to move on,” I said, still holding the steer around my shoulders.

  “Nonsense,” Lucia said, smiling. “I feel like we’re finally fitting in here.”

  I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Just be careful,” I said.

  “Well, let’s go in and enjoy this venison, shall we?” Lucia said, smiling as she took my arm and I led her into the cabin.

  Over the next few months, Elizabeth visited Lucia every day, and Lucia loved working in the garden beside her. On her visits, they talked of many things, but I had cautioned her never to tell her of the magical arts. After what I had seen in the past, I knew that mass hysteria could happen in one night, as it did with Lucia’s parents.

  One Summer day, Elizabeth brought a friend with her to visit Lucia, who was working in the garden, planting medicinal herbs. Her backed was turned and she didn’t hear the girls walk up. Steadily, she held out her hands over the seeds, closed her eyes, and sprouts began to spring up into tiny plants, then blossomed. The girls hung back, whispering, darting behind a bush. “Did ye see that?” the other girl whispered to Elizabeth. “She be a witch!”

  “Now, Abigail, don’t ye be starting that again,” Elizabeth said, then walked out from behind the bush, as the other girl followed. “She’s a nice lady.”

  “So were the other ladies. We shall see,” Abigail replied, then walked up to Lucia.

  “Hello, Miss,” Elizabeth said, touching Lucia on the shoulder.

  “Well, hello, Elizabeth!” Lucia said, returning her warm smile. “I’m pleased that ye came back for another visit.”

  “Yes … hello, Mrs. Lee,” Elizabeth said timidly.

  “Please, call me Lucia,” she said, then turned to her friend. “And who do we have here?”

  “This is my friend, Abigail Williams,” Elizabeth said, frowning.

  “What seems to be ailing ye today? Ye don’t seem to be quite yourself,” Lucia asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.