Vampire Heart

by Rhys Lawless

  I turned to look at Winston, but he didn’t look too keen. I couldn’t blame him.

  “I’m not a fan of slavery, sweetheart, so that’s a no,” he said.

  Dion’s nostrils flared, and she took a few steps forward but didn’t attack.

  “Slavery? You think they’re slaves? They wanted to be blood bound to me. They asked for it. I haven’t had slaves in centuries, dear boy. Now give me my necklace,” she growled.

  Winston raised an eyebrow and inspected the frozen men.

  “I guess there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” he said and brought the necklace up to his mouth. “Tell me the truth,” he whispered to it.

  One of the men unfroze and straightened his body, turning his head to Winston.

  “She’s telling the truth. She’s our mistress, and we want to be under her servitude,” he said.

  Winston and I exchanged looks. I might not understand why anyone would give up their agency and let her control them, but it was their decision to make, and as much as I wanted to shake them awake and let them see what they were doing to themselves, it wasn’t my right to do so.

  “If I ask the rest, will they tell me the same?” Winston insisted.

  The guy nodded and walked over to Dion, who took him in her arms and kissed his forehead. Then, he kneeled on the floor and kissed the back of her hand.

  I turned to Winston whose face was scrunched up.

  “Seize fire,” he spoke to the necklace again, and the rest of the men came back to life again. They all turned toward Dion and knelt on the spot as if she was Her Royal Majesty.

  Troy walked over to Winston and placed his hand on my brother’s wrist.

  “I think you’ve got your answer,” he said and tried to take the necklace from him.

  “But—but they’re—she’s—” Winston responded.

  “Whatever they are or she is, it’s their choice,” Troy said and got a grip on Dion’s necklace and took it to her.

  Dion’s face was smug when she wrapped the crystal-studded jewel around her neck and the power rushed back to her posture. She wasn’t hunched anymore. Her eyes were full of life again. It was as if her men gave her something more than their consenting servitude. It looked as if they gave her purpose.

  “Let’s go.” I turned and grabbed Winston’s shoulder.

  “I didn’t know,” she said behind us.

  “You didn’t know what.” I glanced back at her.

  “That he had kids. He—he never told me. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have kept him from you if I knew,” she said.

  I didn’t say anything. What was the point? What was there to say? That she had kept a prisoner without his consent when her entire army of men had given her that. That she had kept a father from his children, and her one simple action had resulted in so much death. Nothing I said would change any of that. None of it would bring back Mom or all the witches I killed as a result of not knowing who my father was.

  We left without another word spoken. Our time with Dion was over. Once we dealt with Christian and saved Dad, if he was still alive, I’d deal with her. The high council needed to know about her and what she’d done. There needed to be a punishment for her crimes.

  “By the way, I won’t forget what you did.” Troy glared at me.

  “What?”

  He felt the top of his head and winced. “The swelling and bruising might go, but I won’t ever forgive you for pushing me down the stairs.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” I said, and Troy didn’t look too pleased with my response. Winston laughed and then I joined in. Eventually, so did Troy. And I came out of Dion-Lord-Moon-of-Londinium’s mansion feeling a weight over my shoulders heavier than I’d ever felt before.

  What if it was already too late to save Wilder? What if my dad was dead?

  No.

  I refused to believe that.

  Fourteen

  Caleb

  I opened my eyes, but everything was dark. My head was pounding. There was thrumming in my ears. Where was I? What happened?

  My eyes felt heavy, and I rubbed them with my knuckles, but it didn’t help make them lighter or see clearer. I put my hands on the ground and felt around me.

  Ouch!

  Something sharp grazed my hand, and I pulled away to suck on the scratch. I tasted copper, so I was bleeding. Taking the level of pain into account, it probably wasn’t that bad.

  I tried to clear my head and focus on the task at hand. Where was I? I placed my hand, carefully, back on the floor where it had grazed it and used the weight of my fingers to tell its shape.

  All I felt was ragged edges and coolness. I touched along the floor and it finally clicked that the floor was uneven because we were in a cave. That would explain the sharpness.

  If I was in a cave, then it should be easy to figure out how big a space I was in.

  I shouted for help, and while the acoustics definitely confirmed I was in a cave, the echo told me it wasn’t that big an area.

  Where on earth had those vampires taken me, and what were they planning on doing with me? If I got my hands on Darius, he wouldn’t survive a bloody minute, life debts be damned.

  “Caleb?” I heard a whisper to my right, and I turned my head even though my eyes didn’t want to adjust to the darkness.

  “Who is that?”

  “Easton. Are you awake? Of course you’re awake. Stupid. Are you okay?” he asked.

  Fuck! They’d taken Easton. Of course they had. Fucking Darius. He was supposed to keep his word and let Easton go. Why had they kept him? I’d gotten him into this sorry ass mess. How would I even look Troy in the eye if something happened to him? How could I help him deal with the pain of losing a mate?

  “I’m fine. For now. What happened?” I asked to fill the quiet when all I wanted to do was apologize for dragging him into my shit.

  “They knocked you out and then me and then I woke up in here. Tell me, have I gone blind? Can you see anything?”

  I followed the sound of his voice and crawled towards it slowly.

  “Keep talking, Easton. I’m trying to get to you,” I told him. “And no. I can’t see a thing.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Thank God. I thought they’d taken my sight there for a moment,” he said.

  I paused.

  “What? You mean you can’t use your fox’s night vision to see anything?”

  “No. I can’t even shift, which is creeping me out more than anything,” he said.

  I grabbed my wrists and found them bare. They’d taken my spellbooks. Of course they had. So there was no chance of getting out of...wherever the hell we were anytime soon.

  “We need to find a way out,” I said and finally reached Easton, although all I could see was an even darker shadow where he was crouched.

  “Any ideas?” he asked.

  I had none.

  “At the very least, I need to see. Why are my eyes not adjusting?” I asked, more to myself than Easton.

  “I don’t know, but I’ve had the shivers since I woke up,” he said.

  Shivers? Darkness? Unable to shift?

  “We’re in a void,” I said.

  “A what?”

  “A void. It’s like the chaos spell. I’ve only met one witch who had this power, and she’s dead,” I said.

  “I’ve been up for a while. Surely a witch wouldn’t be able to hold her power up for so long,” he said.

  Maybe it wasn’t a witch. Darius was well connected, but he worked for Christian who could perform blood magic. Perhaps we were inside a blood spell.

  No, that didn’t make any sense. Even a blood spell wouldn’t last this long. There was something else going on.

  I told Easton to help me feel around the space and figure out if there was anything amiss. Maybe it wasn’t a void at all. But then again, if it wasn’t, Easton would be able to see.

  Easton took the right side, and I took the left. As rough as the groun
d was, it didn’t have uneven surfaces or boulders like a cave should have. For what it was worth, the ground was level. It just felt as if it had been embellished with all sorts of rocks and crystals to make it uncomfortable to sit on.

  I kept on using my hands to navigate the room. Would this be what my life would be like if I lost my sight? Was this what blind people felt like? Did you ever get used to everything being just more shades of black? Did you ever get over the fear of being alone?

  My head was tormenting me with all the scenarios of what could go wrong next. Of what awaited me. Us.

  Easton didn’t deserve to be here with me. I had dragged him into my world, and he was an innocent bystander who shouldn’t have become involved. I should be here on my own. Not with him. But then again, if I was alone, I probably would have lost my mind already.

  Would I see Wade again? Would he find me? Even if he could, how would he save me when he couldn’t cast a spell?

  Fuck!

  What would he do without me? He’d probably die of depression like most mates when they lost their partner.

  Maybe Troy could keep Wade company. Maybe losing his partner, too, would drive him into Wade’s arms, and they could console each other. Help each other heal from the trauma of losing their mate.

  Stop it, Caleb. You’re being an irrational idiot.

  I had to prepare myself for the worst, but who would prepare Wade for it? And what about Christian? Who would stop him? How many more witches would die because of his power-hungry madness?

  Who would help the high council with that? And what would happen when the Nightcrawlers found out Easton had died because of the vampires? Would they help the council fight them off, or was he already an outcast because he was a half-breed?

  “Hey,” Easton. “It looks like we’re in a room. There’s literally a wall going around. I’d say it’s 250 square feet or something.”

  I shook my head to clear all the grim thoughts that had invaded it. I wasn’t a wallower. I was a man of action.

  So act, goddammit!

  I got to my feet and walked around to verify Easton’s theory. It did indeed look like we were in a box room.

  As I felt my way around the width, I stumbled onto something and fell to the floor. My fall was cushioned by something warm, and my body convulsed.

  My head spun in a hundred different directions in confusion, and my throat swelled up giving me a sense of hopelessness. My extremities turned stone cold, and my heart sizzled with magic.

  Their feelings were so overwhelming that I didn’t get what was going on with me until I heard their thoughts in my head.

  Dion. I need you. I’ll die without you, he said.

  “Shit. There’s someone else in here,” I said while trying to get back to my feet, careful to not kick the man when doing so.

  “What? I thought I heard someone coughing earlier, but then when you woke up, I thought that must have been you,” Easton replied.

  “No. Definitely another entire human being in here,” I said.

  I found the man’s hand and held it tight. Since I couldn’t see him, I could at least feel if he’s all right.

  Dion. Dion. Where are you? Why have you abandoned me here?

  Who is Dion? I asked him.

  My…she’s my… I need her. Where is she? Why hasn’t she come?

  Answers were not going to be forthcoming from this guy. He was pretty far gone. Whether it was being stuck here for too long or if he’d already had mental health problems worsened by his current circumstances, I couldn’t help him.

  From the shape of his body on the floor and his emotional condition, I gathered he was lying down in a semi-conscious state. What wasn’t semi-conscious, however, was his magic. It burned brighter than anyone’s magic, and I had felt a lot of magic. His whole being sizzled with it. I had to retract my hand in fear of getting burned.

  “Whoa!” I said. “That’s some power this dude has.”

  There was a shuffling next to me, and Easton’s presence warmed me.

  “Really?” he whispered.

  “Really,” I said.

  “Do we know who he is?” he asked.

  I reached out with my power and asked for his name. The trick as old as time. Yet when I asked, he couldn’t give me an answer.

  I’m…I’m…I’m Dion’s.

  “He’s too far gone. He keeps mentioning someone called Dion, but I don’t who she is. He’s obsessed.”

  “Maybe it’s his wife?” Easton suggested.

  “I guess we’ll never know.”

  Since we had no light in the room, we couldn’t tell how time passed, but a clear indicator was our stomachs. After a while of being huddled together and waiting for whatever inevitable doom awaited us, both Easton’s and my stomachs started a concert of hunger.

  “Do you think they’ll feed us?” Easton asked after the recital died down.

  I shrugged. “It depends on what they want to do with us. Do they want to kill us or torture us?”

  “Can I take option C, Anne?” he said.

  “Hey! I’m not a Weakest Link Anne,” I said and pushed my elbow back trying to jab him for the insult.

  “Let’s be honest. You are a little bit of an Anne. And we love you for it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “So…why do you think Christian wants us?” he asked.

  Ha! Wasn’t that the question of the century.

  “I think he just wants me. He’s got you to get back at me,” I said.

  Easton’s weight lifted off my back as he sat up and slithered around to face me. I did the same.

  “Okay, then why does he want you?”

  “Revenge, slavery, amusement, torture. Pick a card,” I said.

  “Gee. What the hell did you do to the guy?”

  “Befriended him under false pretenses. Worked for him. Made him fall in love with me. And then took his lifeline away from him. Oh, also, he found out I fell in love with one of his employees as well, which really drove the point. Shall I go on?”

  When I put it that way, it was no wonder the guy hated me. I would hate me. If I didn’t know what Christian was capable of, of course. Had he really loved me that much, felt my betrayal so deeply, that he would go through all the drama of killing off witches to attract my attention?

  Or was he trying to get back at me for killing him?

  “I think I’ve heard enough,” he replied. “I wish I could at least let Troy know I’m okay. I don’t want him panicking.”

  “Well, he should be panicking. We’re not okay,” I said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  I did. Mates were like magnets that nothing could keep apart. But when Rhafnet had taken over Hew, Winston had stopped feeling him as if he were dead. What was killing me was not knowing if Wade could still feel me, if Troy could still feel Easton’s presence, and if that was enough to get them to us.

  “At least he’s with Wade.”

  “Is that supposed to help? He hates Wade,” Easton said.

  “Well, who doesn’t? But you learn to love him pretty quickly,” I said.

  There was a bang to my left, and I turned my head as if I could see what was happening. Turns out, nothing had changed in the last few hours because everything was as dark as Christian’s soul.

  “Hello!” I said.

  “Who’s that?” asked a new voice.

  “I’m Punch,” I said. “He’s Judy,” I pointed to the general direction of Easton. “He’s a side character,” I pointed to where the semi-conscious guy was. “Want to be our audience?”

  Something collided with my chest, and I lost my balance. Had Easton just punched me?

  “Don’t listen to him. I’m Easton. He’s Caleb. Are you a prisoner too?”

  “Caleb! Fuck! You’re here? Shitty shit shat my shart!” the guy said.

  “Hey! I like him. I’ve got a friend who would fancy the balls out of you,” I said. “She’s a real treat.”

  “Uhm, no thanks. I only
play for my team,” he replied. “What the hell are you doing here? I set up the meeting with Darius. I thought you had a blood oath or some bullshit,” the new guy said.

  “Wait, you did? Who is this?” I got up to my feet and tried to follow the sound of his voice.

  Selim, he said in his mind at the same time as he said it out loud, and I heard it crystal clear.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “It’s Darius. He’s out of control,” Selim said.

  “It’s not Darius, he’s just a puppet. It’s Christian. Christian is the master,” I said.

  Selim scoffed. “Isn’t that reassuring for the clan. Our clan master is nothing but someone else’s marionette. How quaint.”

  “What did he do?” Easton asked.

  “He caught me rallying the vampires. I tried to stop them from attacking more witches. But then he came and seized me. He said if I want to save the witches, maybe I should die like them too. Next thing I know, I’m here, and so are you both,” he said.

  What the fuck are you doing Darius? That is not you. You wanted to be clan master so you could call the shots. And now you’re doing someone else’s bidding? What does he have on you?

  “So he’s going to kill us?” Easton asked quite dully as if he’d already gotten used to the idea of never coming out of this darkness again.

  “I guess,” I said.

  “Choose! Choose!” someone screamed, breaking the somber mood of our cell.

  My mind reached out to whoever was speaking. It turned out it was the tormented man.

  “Choose? Choose what?” Easton asked him.

  Choose, he said again, only this time in my mind. But after everything, will you ever choose me?

  “I have no idea what’s going on, but I am fucking sick of the dark,” I said to fill up the void again.

  Fifteen

  Wade

  “Why won’t he answer?” Troy cursed for the fifth time since we’d left Dion’s house and stared at me as if it were my fault Easton wasn’t taking his calls.

  “Maybe he’s busy,” I said, but I knew there was something going on.