When he got to the front, someone started shouting. Then she heard a blast as Link was propelled backward. He landed hard on the sidewalk. Steph screamed and tried to run to him, but her feet wouldn’t move fast enough. Her legs were tangled in bushes, trapping her out of sight.
She watched in horror as he rolled over, and a teenage girl stood over him in the now open doorway. He asked her to put it down, to stop, but she yelled over him. He grabbed her leg and pulled, wanting to take the gun away, but the girl kicked him in the face. Steph’s stomach rolled.
The girl latched onto the gun she had dropped, and shot Link in the face, and he didn’t move again.
Steph worked as hard as she could to free herself from the plant, kicking and pulling. It wasn’t until the girl had left with her friends that she had stumbled out from the trees, running to Link’s side, but he was gone.
Steph roared a string of swears, as her body shook with dry sobs. She couldn’t look at his face. There was nothing there to look at. She had lost the love of her life for a second time in twenty-four hours. That girl was going to pay. Steph would rip her apart and eat every last bit of her if it was the last thing she did. She had heard them call her Jo, which was a strange name for a girl, but it didn’t matter. She was going to destroy her. She just had to follow them. They would have to stop eventually.
Steph stumbled after them back to the main road. They were driving slowly, making their way through the cars. She couldn’t move fast enough and their truck was vanishing down the road. She had to keep following. She was so hungry. She couldn’t let that girl get away with killing Link. Then, a loud bang echoed within her ears and she fell forward, hitting the ground. Looking behind her, she saw a shaking woman holding a gun in a trembling hand.
Maybe if she had a bite, she’d be able to move faster.
The woman crept closer, her whole body shaking like a leaf. Steph tried to sit up and the woman aimed the gun at her head. Then, everything went black.
Some part of her knew she was finally, completely, dead. She couldn’t see and she couldn’t hear, but she could feel Link next to her, as his hand was in hers. She squeezed him tightly and he pulled her into his embrace, as his scent filled her nostrils … and she was home. Dead or alive, she was home.
A Heart That Cannot Beat
By: Elaine White
A collection of short stories about the Charcot clan members
The characters in this story are based on the book
Runaway Girl
The Secrets of Avelina Chronicles
By: Elaine White
Valentine’s Day 1503
Damian sat on the windowsill, staring at nothing in particular. One foot was pressed against the frame, while the other dangled freely in the air. He was one story off the ground, sitting on the windowsill of the bedroom that he had once shared with Angela … so many years ago. There was nothing to see in the room, but his brain pulled many memories to the forefront of his mind. One was entering the house as husband and wife, with Angela holding onto his arm. Another, the night his father died in the downstairs bedroom while he watched helplessly from the window as an outsider. Long years of being Angela’s Peter Pan before that boy had ever existed, flitting in and out of her window, and her life. Watching the woman he loved grow old and live a life without him by night and babysitting her killer by day. It was impossible for him to see Amelia as anything else in those early days; the days before he loved her.
Little did he know that he had been followed by Trey, his brother-in-law, best friend and Angela’s closest living relative. He hated watching Damian torture himself over and again. “Damian, leave this place to your memories. Come away with me. Torment yourself no longer,” he begged, but it was no use. Damian sat forlorn, watching the memories play out within his mind’s eye.
Trey was forced into action. He raced up the staircase and straight into the bedroom that had once been his sister’s straight at Damian, pushing him out of the window. Both men fell out of the house, plummeting to the ground. When they landed, unharmed, Trey pinned Damian to the earth. “This is folly! Angela never would have wanted this,” he argued, trying to talk some sense into him, but it was useless. The pain was too raw, too soon. Damian pushed Trey away with little effort and rose to his feet. He stalked into the forest without a word or a care, thinking only of his Angela and the life that had been ripped from him. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. He could still remember that fateful night, so crystal clear in his mind.
They were about to turn in for the night, sitting by the fire in their bedroom, when a scream roused him from his thoughts and drew him to the doorway of the house. They had no neighbors on the outskirts of the forest, so without seeing anything outside his door, Damian ventured out to walk the perimeter of the house. It was unsettling times; witches were being burned and tortured. The council often snuck into people’s homes at night, hoping to see some sign of witchcraft within. On this particular night at the back of the house, he had found a man nosing around.
“Amelia! Do not go far,” the man called out, concerned.
Damian approached cautiously. “What seems to be the problem, sir?”
“My daughter ran off. It is late … she may get into danger,” the man confessed, panicked.
Damian did the only thing he could and offered to help search for her. As he walked, he caught sight of a little girl running through the trees, faster that he would have imagined could be possible. Damian heard a sound behind him and turned, but nothing was there. Damian stopped walking as he reached the thick of the forest, sure that Trey wouldn’t follow him in there.
He laughed remembering how naïve he had been. In those days, he never knew vampires existed, nor did he really believe in witches, but he knew hysteria when he saw it. It was the entire reason he had built a house on the outskirts of the forest; it was away from so called civilization and large enough to house his family and Angela’s comfortably. He had never supposed that it might be the one thing that had put him into danger.
Amelia—as he later knew the little girl to be—had played with him for only a short time, teasing and tormenting him with sightings, crying and long chases. When he finally caught up with her, she was huddled on the ground, crying. Angela had always wanted a child, but their marriage was still new and they were unsure of when they might be able to afford a family on his pitiful wages. He had approached Amelia in hope of giving his wife a few hours of joy spent with a child, warming her and her father beside a fire before they had to leave. But it had all went terribly wrong.
The moment Damian was within her reach, the sweet little girl turned into a monster. With a snarling face, fangs and blood red eyes, she lunged at him and secured her mouth to his throat before he even had enough time to scream. It was the most terrifying moment of his life. Only two thoughts had occupied his mind at the time; surviving to see Angela again, and the sound of his own heart beat fading away. Amelia had fed from him for what felt like hours, but that he knew couldn’t have been very long, as Angela never came looking for him. He lay in the dirt with Amelia hunched over his limp body, listening to the sound of his own failing breath in his ears and the sound of someone sucking the blood from his body. Damian sank to the ground within the forest, hugging his knees, believing that he would die … until that last moment.
When Amelia finished feeding from him, she had abandoned his body on the ground and skipped off into the trees. That was the last thing Damian saw—Amelia skipping away happily after killing him. It was an odd memory, not quite complete with his fading life, but the last real emotion he ever felt. He didn’t remember seeing Lucius again when he discovered his dying body and the great tearing wound in his throat, but he recalled the sensation of being saved. He remembered the way his body lifted off the ground almost magically, even though he now knew that it had been Lucius’ strong arms lifting him. In his near-death state, the blood that had poured into his mouth was like the cleanest water given to a parched man
as he drank thirstily. It wasn’t until years later that he realized death was not necessary. The process of turning required only two blood donors, one vampire, one human; one gave and the other received.
Damian wished that he had been sensible enough to refuse, but he hadn’t understood at the time. He believed that some kind person had found him and attempted to heal him with healing waters, or at least offer him one last taste of pure affection before he died. Now he knew better; he would have refused, but he didn’t have the choice anymore.
Later he was told that two hours had passed before he was fit to stand again. He had been weak, uncertain and confused; not a good recipe for someone who now had strengths and abilities beyond his understanding. Later, Lucius explained everything in the forest, as his little daughter stood by innocently, smiling at him. He had explained that they were vampires and that his daughter was dangerous, unruly and would be condemned as a witch if anyone knew. She was the child of two pure blood elders and, therefore, a vampire from birth. If captured, she would die. He had begged for his secrecy and Damian, with his soft heart, had agreed … on the condition that he make Angela a vampire and take her with him into his new life. Lucius understood his heart then.
Damian had climbed the side of the house and crept inside through the open window, while Angela slept by the fire. Damian would never have done anything against her wishes, so he woke her and explained about the little girl and her father. Then he told her what had been done to him, to save his life. To his relief, Angela had wanted nothing more than to share her life with him. So he laid her upon the bed, where she would be comfortable, then he lay down beside her. With a gentle kiss and a profession of his undying love, he had done as Lucius had instructed him and bit her neck and drank until he felt the flutter of her heart. Tears were in his eyes when he pulled away, but Angela just smiled a dreamy, sleepy smile and touched his face tenderly. Damian kissed her lips, about to open up a wound on his wrist and offer it to her, but before he could do so, Amelia’s scream pierced the air.
Damian was forced to leave his wife, lying peacefully on her bed, as blood stained her throat. He could hear the movement downstairs and didn’t doubt that his father was rushing to check on Angela, but he couldn’t risk being caught. Lucius had warned him of that. If he changed out of anger or surprise, his own family would surely turn him over to the Witches Council to keep Angela and themselves safe from him. With one last promise to return for her, Damian rushed to the window and jumped to the ground.
Damian had returned to Angela nightly after turning her, only to find that no matter how many times he fed her, her system would not accept it. Finally, Lucius and Angela convinced him to stop. He still felt the pain in her voice when she told him she would always love him and that if they couldn’t spend their life together, she still wished to see him from time to time. It broke his heart. After that, he spent every moment with her that he could spare without putting himself at risk of getting caught. When he wasn’t with her, he was at the vampire clan house on the other side of the forest where Lucius lived. Over time, he became like a son to the man who had saved his life. Trey often wondered about his sister’s happiness at a time when her husband was believed dead.
Trey had never stopped looking for Damian, after that first night when he was discovered missing. It was believed that the screams in the forest were Damian’s and that he had been killed, but Trey wouldn’t accept that until he found his body. Night after night he ventured into the forest searching for a newly dug grave, or a body disguised by leaves, but he found nothing, and he could never understand Angela’s insistent pleas for him to stop looking. Then, he knew. On his search one night, he noticed the window to Angela’s bedroom was wide open, and a light was shining brightly within. He knew that Angela had suffered terribly from the cold since her affliction which had only lasted twelve days, to his relief. It was a chilly night, so he made his way back to the house to scold her for putting her health at risk. That was when he saw a dark shadow climbing the outside of the house and sneaking in through the window. A moment later, the shutters were closed.
Trey was curious, so he rushed to the house and hid behind a nearby tree to see if he could see who was climbing in through his sister’s window. He recognized the dark outline even before he reached his hiding place. Without thinking, he jumped out and embraced the shadow in a heartfelt hug. “I cannot believe you are alive,” he whispered, sure there was some reason for secrecy. When his cold hands gripped his arms and pushed him away, he knew. When Trey saw this face for himself, it was not the Damian he knew. He had a deep brow, eyes like the midnight sky, and snarling lips over white, elongated fangs, but it was Damian all the same. “I do not understand this ...” he said. Unmindful of the vice grip Damian had on his arm, he lifted his hand and touched the deepened brow of his best friend. “… but I want to know the truth. You cannot leave me behind, Damian. We are brothers … friends … family. If there is a reason Angela does not leave with you, tell me and I shall change her mind. We three shall go on adventures together, just as we always have,” Trey asked excitedly. Then, Damian knew he was never going to be left in peace if he risked visiting Angela every hour he could spare.
Damian had taken Trey into the woods, to a hiding place, and explained everything. When he knew what happened to his sister, he feared the same might happened to him as well, but he asked Damian to try regardless. If Damian could live as a vampire, then so could he. And in the safety of the woods, they wouldn’t be interrupted. It was his right, as his brother that they share the adventure. They had returned to the house together, and Damian had waited impatiently in his old bedroom, pacing the floor as Angela watched from her seat by the fire. He had talked to her about Trey’s request, and Trey promised that he would visit her, too, hoping that his sister would give her permission for him to leave the family.
Damian had known the minute Trey walked into the room and Angela smiled sadly at him, that her mind was made up. A moment later, she told them both that she would rather they have each other than forever be separated, and if she couldn’t enjoy the adventure with them, then they would just have to enjoy it even more for her, and occasionally return to tell her of them.
The next seventy years had been spent that way. While Damian became guardian over Amelia, he and Trey had limited their visits to Angela until they only saw her once a month, then once in six months, hoping that she could move on with her life, but Angela never re-married, she never considered herself a widow or heartbroken. And she died in her bed, eventually, with a smile on her face and memories of a life she had never been allowed to live. And Damian had fallen apart.
Deep in the forest beside the house that was no longer his home, Damian began to cry. Trey sighed and offered him what little comfort he could; a comforting hand on the shoulder of friendship. Damian buried his face in his knees and mourned the loss of his wife … the woman he loved … and the man he had once been. Along with Angela, everything within Damian died … his hopes, his dreams, his emotions.
Now, just a month after Angela’s death at the ripe old age of seventy, he truly wished that he had died that day, too. It would have been better for Angela to live a widow’s life and have the chance at another happy marriage later than to leave her as the wife of a man she couldn’t be with. Damian heard the rumors that had spread about him throughout the town: that he found another woman and ran off with her, that he had abandoned Angela, even that he had been murdered by a man who wished to have Angela to himself. Each rumor was more ridiculous than the other. No one knew that he had been killed by a spiteful little girl or that he had risen after death.
After seventy long years of watching his wife grow old and finally die, he wished that he had been thinking clearly enough to take Angela with him. Unfortunately for Damian, a vampire’s first instinct is to protect itself and seek the quickest escape. Even now, his vampire brain told him that if he had attempted to take Angela with him, they both would have been caught and p
unished. Even now his instinct told him that it was better that Angela lived a human life away from the stain of vampirism, than to burn at the stake as a witch … but his human heart disagreed. It ached to see her again, to kiss and hold her. His heart told him that life wasn’t worth living without Angela.
“Brother, do not despair. I know it should be the three of us together, but it was not meant to be. I am only thankful that my transformation was completed so you won’t be alone.” Trey’s voice caught Damian’s attention. He raised his eyes from the ground knowing that much was true. If they had been interrupted again, preventing Trey’s transition as it had Angela’s, he truly would have been alone in the world. He indicated for Trey to sit with him and together they each silently remembered Angela, each silently mourning her.
From that day on, Trey watched Damian with regret and a silent prayer to his sister, whom he hoped was smiling down upon them. He wished that Damian would rediscover his humanity. He wished that she had died happy, and he hoped that one day, Damian would learn to live again.
Valentine’s Day 1524
Samuel choked in his desperation. The blood simply wouldn’t go down his throat fast enough, but it was delicious and addictive. It was the third time that night he had fed from the poor young woman in his clutches; the third and not likely the last. What a Valentine’s Day gift it was!
When it had happened, he couldn’t say, but somewhere between the arrival of the young teacher and that moment, as he felt her warm, coppery blood flowing down his throat at a rate not even close to fast enough, Samuel had become infatuated with her. Nisha had been paid to reside within the vampire clan house and teach the elders’ children about the latest century. The elders could cover all of the previous centuries, but no one knew better about the present time than a human. So Nisha, down on her luck and without a penny to her name, accepted a teaching job at the clan house. She just hadn’t known what she was getting into.
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