Heart of the Vampire: Episode 2

by Tasha Black

  “When I go too long without feeding, I become cold too,” he said. “And the longer I go between human feedings the more animals I have to consume. Eventually, they are not enough.”

  He pressed his lips together, as if struggling to continue.

  “And there are other concerns as well,” he said.

  “What concerns?”

  “If I go too long without human blood I weaken,” he said.

  “Will you die?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he told her. “That’s not my worst fear.”

  She couldn’t imagine what would be worse than that.

  “Losing my humanity,” he said, answering the question she hadn’t yet asked. “Losing my empathy, losing myself to the hunger. That is what I fear most of all.”

  His words hung in the air.

  She couldn’t find the words to answer.

  “If that happened, I would feed indiscriminately,” he went on after a moment.

  “Would feeding bring your humanity back?” she asked.

  “I hope not,” he admitted. “Because if it did, the guilt would be worse than death itself.”

  His beautiful face was rent with pain.

  She reached out a hand to stroke his jaw in spite of herself.

  But his hand was around her wrist before she could touch him.

  “This won’t work, Drucilla,” he said flatly. “I can’t live in your world without putting you in danger. It was stupid of me to even entertain the notion.”

  “Viktor,” she breathed.

  “I don’t want to leave, but we don’t belong in the same story,” he said, his voice rough with pain. “The sun will be up in a few minutes. I’m going up to rest. When I wake again, I’ll leave.”

  “Where will you go?” she asked.

  “Far away,” he said. “Far enough that you can’t find me. Far enough that I can’t bring my curse down on you.”

  “Please,” she heard herself say.

  She felt his lips brush her forehead and the breeze of his movement, as he disappeared into the darkness.

  Dru sat alone on the leather chair, watching the fire die as the navy blue of pre-dawn seeped into the black sky outside.

  23

  Dru was still sitting in the chair when the last lingering flames in the fireplace finally winked out.

  By then, the pink of dawn was rising in the east, behind the sitting room. Warm amber light seeped in through the big windows, casting a surreal glow around the stillness of the empty room.

  Dru sighed and stood up. It was time to get back to work, time to try to put one foot in front of the other. And step one was getting the fire going again.

  There was still plenty of wood inside, which was a relief. She grabbed a few logs from the rack and arranged them over the embers in the fireplace. Then she reached into the bin where there they kept the old newspapers for kindling, removing a few sheets and crumbling them into tight balls to wedge beneath the logs.

  But something on the final sheet caught her eye.

  There was a picture of the man she had known as Brian Thompson.

  Little Nicky Costello Testifies While Mob Looks On, the headline read.

  She scanned the article and it seemed to corroborate all that Viktor had said. Brian Thompson - Little Nicky Costello - had agreed to rat out his mob buddies in exchange for immunity.

  She looked back at the picture and her mouth dropped open.

  This couldn’t be right.

  Brian Thompson’s wasn’t the only face she recognized. There was another familiar guest in the background.

  Johnny Smith.

  In the picture, Johnny wore a black suit and stood in a line of angry looking men at the back of the courtroom. But she would have known his bald head and wide frame anywhere.

  He was in the mob, Johnny Smith was in the mob.

  Which meant he had reason to want Brian Thompson dead.

  He must have been the other half of the argument she’d overheard. Johnny Smith was the one Thompson had called Sullivan.

  Dru might have just solved the case.

  And there was no one around to tell. She couldn’t even call the police.

  Think, Dru, think.

  A plan started to form, and she sprang into action, jogging out of the sitting room and up the stairs to grab Brian Thompson’s phone from her room, the newspaper still clutched in her hand.

  Once she had the phone she came back down, pulled on her coat, and headed out the front door and into the cold morning air.

  Snow still blanketed the meadow, the fallen tree, and the woods beyond. Sunrise tinted the icy landscape pink.

  All she had to do was get through the snowy meadow into the woods where it wasn’t as thick, and then hike up the hillside to find a signal, like she had done the other day with Hailey and Viktor.

  The phone still had a charge. If there was enough battery life left to make a single call, she could let the police know about Johnny and Little Nicky.

  She stepped out onto the porch and took a single step before she realized her mistake.

  A figure stood next to the fallen tree, cigarette smoke swirling in a column above his bald head.

  “Good morning, lobby girl,” Johnny said with a thin smile.

  She tried to cram the paper under her coat, but it was too late. He had obviously seen it.

  “I see you’re aware of my fifteen minutes of fame,” Johnny said lazily nodding at the newspaper. “Where are you headed?”

  “Just to get some fresh air,” she lied. “But it’s really cold out, I think I’ll go back in.”

  She stepped backward.

  Johnny moved as fast as a snake.

  Before she knew what was happening, Dru found herself looking down the barrel of a gun.

  “I think you’re going to get that fresh air after all,” Johnny said, standing up straight, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. “Come down here, and let’s get to know each other.”

  Every instinct told her to run.

  There was still some distance between them. He might not necessarily hit her. But Johnny’s hand was steady, and his eyes were cold. He didn’t strike her as the kind of person who missed.

  And what would she do even if she got inside? She would still have to wake the others.

  The only person in the hotel who would even consider protecting her from a man with a gun would be asleep in a trunk of grave soil by now.

  “I know you think you can run,” Johnny said, flicking his cigarette into the snow with his free hand. “Did you know that the bullet in this gun moves at twenty-six-hundred feet per second? It will go through you as easy as tissue paper.”

  Dru sighed and lifted her hands, letting the newspaper flutter to the porch floor.

  “Good girl,” he said. “Come see Johnny.”

  Each step felt like she was walking through wet cement.

  When she reached the bottom of the porch steps, he waved her onward with the gun.

  “Come on, come on,” he said. “Moving slower won’t change anything.”

  She moseyed anyway, making a show of trying to walk through the deep snow.

  She gazed into the face of the man who was about to kill her, wondering if there was some way to figure him out, some perfect thing she could say that would unlock her hopeless situation.

  But his face was calm and knowing.

  He had surely killed before her and he would kill after her too.

  She was nearly in his waiting arms when she heard the door to the hotel open behind her.

  Johnny’s eyes got bigger.

  “Oh, this just gets better and better,” he said. “Is this your boyfriend?”

  She turned away from him without thinking.

  Johnny locked his arms around her, and she felt the cold metal of the gun pressed to her temple.

  “V-Viktor,” she stammered.

  Viktor stood on the porch, enveloped in shadow, his pale blue eyes seeming to glow.

 
; “Let her go,” he said, his dark voice cutting through the frigid air.

  “Oh, I don’t think so, loverboy,” Johnny said. “I know you’re not into her for her brains, but I’m sure you’d rather not see them splattered into the snow.”

  Viktor met her gaze for a moment, and she felt the sorrow there.

  He was powerless to help her. There was an uncrossable ocean of sunlight between them.

  His eyes shifted to Johnny, and he took a single step forward.

  24

  Dru tried to shake her head, but Johnny’s hold was too tight.

  “No, Viktor,” she moaned. “Go back inside, call for help.”

  But he was already moving down the steps. He slowed when he hit the wall of sunlight, but he was still moving almost too fast to see.

  The bite of the metal gun barrel disappeared from her temple.

  There was a terrible blast, and Viktor staggered, then collapsed in the snow.

  Dru was reminded momentarily of the first rabbit she’d found out here, helpless in a splash of red and white.

  She’d been right. Johnny wasn’t the type to miss.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Johnny barked, dragging her toward Viktor. “I’ve gotta make sure Romeo is dead before we figure out what I’m gonna do with you.”

  She knew Viktor was more than human, but there was so much blood, and so much sun.

  His body was motionless, face down in the snow. Smoke had begun to rise from him, swirling up toward the brightening sky.

  If the bullet hadn’t killed him, the sunlight soon would.

  “Is he on fire?” Johnny rasped, letting go of Dru with one hand to flip the vampire’s body over.

  Smoke lifted from Viktor’s lifeless face, blurring his pale blue eyes like a mirage.

  “What the actual fuck?” Johnny said in wonder, leaning over him and inadvertently blocking the sunlight.

  Viktor blinked.

  Then everything seemed to go in slow motion.

  Before she could draw a breath, Viktor was standing, and punching Johnny so hard that his feet left the ground before he landed in a heap, his gun tumbling into the deep snow. He grabbed Dru as the front door to the hotel swung open.

  Channing stood on the porch, staring. He must have been drawn out by the gunshot.

  Dru felt Viktor’s arms around her, and they dragged each other to the safety of the porch.

  By the time they reached the shadows, Viktor was collapsing.

  His skin was so pale, so very, very pale.

  “Viktor,” Dru sobbed.

  Zander burst onto the porch, breathless.

  “Don’t let him get away,” Channing said, motioning to Johnny, who had just begun to stir.

  “He’s dangerous,” Dru warned. “Be careful.”

  Zander dashed off the porch and Dru turned her attention back to Viktor.

  “Let’s get him inside,” Channing said quietly.

  They each put an arm around Viktor and carried him in.

  “To his room?” Channing suggested.

  “Yes, please,” Dru said.

  It was too late. She knew already that he couldn’t come back from this.

  As they carried him upstairs, she thought about what he had been through - a gunshot, sunlight, so much pain.

  And he was hungry.

  An idea began to form in the back of her mind, but she wasn’t sure it would work.

  When they reached Viktor’s rooms, Channing helped her place him on the bed of the Sapphire Suite.

  Viktor’s big body was sprawled out on the pale comforter. Even in his weakness he projected such strength.

  “Leave us,” she panted.

  “Are you—” Channing began.

  “Leave us,” she spat. “Help Zander with Johnny. He’s the killer. Get the newspaper off the porch and read it. Don’t come back up here, no matter what.”

  She heard him pull the door shut behind him as she crawled into the bed.

  “Can you hear me, Viktor?” she asked him as she peeled off her sweater.

  “Drucilla.” His whisper was hoarse, but he wasn’t gone yet.

  “Hold on, baby,” she crooned. “Hold on, I’ve got you.”

  She unclasped her bra and placed it on top of her sweater.

  The room was freezing.

  She leaned back and pulled Viktor’s head to her breast.

  He was cool to the touch.

  “It’s time to feed now,” she told him softly, sweeping her hair out of the way of her neck.

  “Drucilla, no,” he moaned. “Go away.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she told him. “You saved my life, and now I’m going to save yours.”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “It’s not what you think,” he murmured. “It’s more than just food.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she told him.

  “It will bind us to each other,” he told her. “We’ll always be connected. If I manage not to kill you.”

  They had just broken things off.

  Now she was going to be connected to him forever.

  But none of that mattered. She was sure of it. This was the right thing to do.

  “Just do it,” she told him. “You’re not going to kill me.”

  “How do you know?” he asked.

  “Look, if I have to go find a knife and slice myself open and force feed you, I will,” she told him. “Otherwise I need you to bite me. Now.”

  His expression wavered and she felt unshed tears stinging her eyes.

  Whatever he was, he was already a part of her. They had been drawn together from the beginning. They would always be connected, no matter what.

  “Please, Viktor,” she said, closing her eyes. “Please.”

  She felt him lightly nuzzle her neck, and a shiver went down her spine.

  Dru braced herself for the pain.

  But the pain of his teeth sinking into her tender flesh was pleasurable, too.

  Warmth washed over her, and she was filled with a sense of wellbeing.

  Viktor groaned, the sound of his relief awakening her cells, filling her with a shimmering of desire.

  She pressed herself closer to that hungry mouth.

  He gripped her tighter now, his arms growing strong again, and warm.

  Dru felt her body responding to his.

  They had fooled around before, but this was something different, something darker and deeper. Something primal.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him in.

  She could feel part of herself inside him now, pulsing, hot and exquisite. Behind her closed eyes she saw roses blooming and wilting, a thousand moons waxing and waning, until they seemed to strobe.

  The universe was opening itself to her now and she yielded to it, taking it all in.

  “Viktor,” she whispered, moaning as she touched the face of the sun.

  “Enough,” he roared, tearing himself off her.

  Dru swooned, her eyes still closed. The loss of his hot mouth at her neck left her swooning.

  She opened her eyes, stretching languidly.

  Viktor stood over the bed, his tangled hair falling in front of eyes as blue as the frozen lake.

  His skin almost seemed to glow, and his presence was somehow even larger now.

  Everything about him different, though she couldn’t put her finger on a single thing that had changed.

  He was still tall, lightly muscled, and handsome with long, dark hair.

  But this man before her could never fit into the line at a crowded hotel. Charisma and raw power emanated from him, leaving her feeling a little dazed.

  This man would always be spotted instantly, set apart from anyone else in the room with those denim blue eyes and the haze of brutal confidence that hung around him.

  “Go, Drucilla,” he said, looking away from her. “Put your clothes on and go.”

  “Viktor,” she murmured.

  “Go, before I change my
mind,” he snapped.

  She dressed quickly and dashed to the door, unable to resist his command.

  There was a creaking sound behind her and a sudden waft of loamy air.

  She turned back to see him opening the largest of the trunks.

  “Go, Drucilla,” he intoned.

  And though his deep voice slid through her seductively, she obeyed, closing the door behind her.

  25

  Dru took a few more steps down the hall, feeling so light that she had to look down to make sure her feet were still on the ground.

  She clung to the railing as she lowered herself onto the first step.

  Much as she hadn’t wanted him to stop, Viktor was right. He had taken enough to leave her fuzzy around the edges.

  The morning light was bleeding through the sheer curtains in the lobby, crawling over the pale area of the wooden floor where the rug used to be.

  Dru took another step down.

  There was a metallic thunk, followed by a loud rumble, and everything went white.

  She closed her eyes and lowered herself to sit on the step, wondering if this was an effect of the blood loss.

  Am I dying?

  But when she opened her eyes again, she saw that what had blinded her was only the light from crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling over the lobby.

  The power was back on.

  She pulled herself back to her feet.

  Clinging to the railing, she moved down the steps.

  No one was in the lobby to appreciate the chandelier or the clanging of the radiator pipes heating up.

  She opened the front door to the whine of electric saws and a deeper rumbling.

  A road crew must be out there, removing the tree.

  And they must have brought fuel for the generator - that was the rumble.

  Footprints in the snow led from the fallen tree around the abandoned wing of the hotel.

  She knew she should go inside and get some juice or a cookie.

  “Officer Wagner, Willow Ridge Police,” someone called to her from the vicinity of the fallen tree.

  She turned back to see a police officer climbing toward her.

  He was tall and broad-shouldered, with military-short, blond hair. Big sunglasses protected his eyes from the glare of the snow.

  “Thank God,” she breathed. “There was a murder here, and we know who did it.”