Jaden's Heart

by Melanie Jackson

  “So, what else did you do?” Alexis asked.

  “I was a mortician once. Worst job ever.”

  She laughed. “I'm pretty sure being a waitress at Sal's is the worst job ever.”

  “You're probably right. I have never worked in fast food or food in general. It doesn't look like it would be very much fun.”

  I was still touching her cheek and I had not even realized it. It felt natural, as if it was meant to be there. “Um...” I said, trying to find the best way to approach my next question.

  “What?” she asked, pulling her knees to her chest.

  The sun disappeared behind the clouds and a long shadow covered us. “I know it's none of my business, but why are you out here? I mean all alone. Don't you have parents or family of some kind?”

  She shrugged. “It's a long story. One you've probably heard before.”

  “Maybe, but I still want to hear yours.”

  “Why?”

  “I like you.” The words just came out and the sudden truthfulness of them took me by surprise. I turned away from her, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

  I could hear her heartbeat quicken. “Do you mean like a friend or you like kissing me?” she asked, her voice low.

  I turned and leaned forward, gently kissing her soft lips. Fire filled my body. She turned her head, breaking the kiss and taking the heat with her.

  “I'm sorry,” I said, the dispersing heat once again leaving me feeling unnaturally cold.

  “I'm not good at this stuff. I have been alone for so long,” she said, trembling.

  “How long have you been out here?” I asked.

  “A little over two years, but I wasn't always in L.A. I spent most of my time hitchhiking. This happened to be the last stop for a cigar-smoking trucker that picked me up outside of Vega Texas. After I got here, I decided to stay. My parents weren't exactly the nurturing kind. My mother spent more time in jail than with me. My father...” she paused and shrugged. “It's better out here,” she said, her voice distant. “Why are you here?” she asked. “I'm sure you have a big house and fancy cars waiting for you somewhere.”

  I nodded. “Several vehicles. My estate lies about forty-five minutes outside of London.”

  “An estate, in England?” Her face lit up. “You don't have much of an accent.”

  “I travel so much that I have had to learn various languages. So my dialect is pretty much nonexistent.”

  “How many languages?”

  “Seven,” I said, grinning.

  “Wow! You could go anywhere in the world. Why come here?” she asked, as she pulled my coat off and moved to sit closer to me.

  “I'm on a vacation. Sort of,” I said, grinning.

  “No one knows you're here, do they?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I need a break from the responsibility. I want to have fun for a while. I may be nine hundred years old, but I still feel nineteen.”

  “Are you going back?” she asked.

  “Depends.”

  “On what?” she asked, frowning.

  I shrugged. “If I feel like it.”

  “Aren't those people depending on you?”

  “And what if I don't care?” I said coldly.

  “You do care about them,” she guessed.

  I sighed. “I know. I am going back, just not yet. Sometimes I just feel lost and need to take a break from reality.”

  Alexis glanced around the filthy alley and tears caught in her voice as she said, “I wish I could.”

  The wind began to pick up, tossing her blonde hair. She stifled a yawn and stuffed her hands into her pockets.

  “You're tired,” I said.

  “It was a long night,” she replied.

  “My apartment isn't far,” I offered.

  I watched her think about it.

  “Okay,” she decided. “Which way to the stairs?”

  Seven

  i watched Alexis through my peripherals as we made our way to my apartment in silence. She must have been deep in thought—no doubt thinking up more questions for me, because when she glanced at me and saw I was watching, her eyes darted way and she blushed. I smiled; it was turning out to be a beautiful day. We entered my building and climbed the two flights of stairs to my outer door. I unlocked it and held it open for her.

  The apartment was small but comfortable. I closed the door and moved over into the kitchen that lined the entire wall next to the entrance. A small round dining room table with two chairs separated it from the living room. A love seat, coffee table, and a flat-screen TV hung from the wall made up the living room. The full bed pushed up against the far wall made up my bedroom.

  I watched her scan the space.

  “It's small but has everything I need. The toiletry is through the door there,” I said, pointing to the wood door to her right.

  “It's nice,” she said, smiling at me.

  “But not what you expected,” I guessed.

  “Not really, but it seems to suit you,” she replied.

  I laughed.

  “Oh! You have a cat! What's his name?” she asked, kneeling to greet the black cat that came to inspect the visitor.

  “Her name is Sophia. Be careful, she can be particular about who touches her,” I warned.

  “Hi there, beautiful. You are very beautiful and you know it too, don't you?” Alexis cooed at the cat, which began to rub up against her and purr.

  I frowned as she petted Sophia. The cat had never showed me any kind of affection. She only approached me for food and had never let anyone so much as touch her.

  “Yeah, yeah, okay,” I said, and shooed Sophia away with my foot, feeling a little jealous.

  Alexis smiled at me.

  “Please, make yourself at home,” I said.

  She removed the two coats, a long-sleeved sweater, and a large men's button down shirt. With her layers removed, I could view the outline of her body, slender with small breasts and hips. She was cleaner than the first time we met.

  The sun's rays had naturally highlighted her blonde hair and it fell across her forehead, the tips tangling with her blonde eyelashes. I took a long moment to look into the deep green depths of her eyes then I lowered my gaze to her rose-colored lips. When she smiled, I thought about kissing those soft lips, tasting them.

  “What was your family like?” she asked, breaking my trance as she turned towards the living room.

  I followed. “We were highland people, proud and strong. My father was a Scottish lord,” I said as she sat down on the cream-colored leather love seat. “He was a red haired and bearded man, always dressed for battle when he wasn't occupied with reading. My dim human memories of him are a cross between a barbarian and an old scholar. He was a hard man and expected much from me.”

  “What about your mother?” she asked as I sat beside her.

  “I remember nothing apart from what I was told. She was a local farm girl—very young and beautiful. I suppose my father chose her because she was hearty and thought she would bear him many children. She died in giving birth to my brother,” I said, shrugging.

  I took the throw off the back of the settee and handed it to her. “Thanks.”

  “What was your brother like?” she asked, wrapping up in the blanket.

  “It is difficult to describe my brother, Gabriel. He was a free spirit and full of untamed energy. He had large, wild blue eyes; his red hair was always tangled. In the summer months, we would ride our horses naked across the highlands.” I smiled.

  Alexis laughed. “Naked?”

  I could not help but laugh with her. “My father constantly scolded me for it. He wished me to act more like a lady. He would always say that noble men didn't want to marry a barbarian.”

  “Do you still go riding?” she asked.

  “Naked or in general?”

  “Both!” she answered, her cheeks red.

  “I still ride horses, only clothed. There are more pleasant activities to do naked,” I replied, brushing a stray lo
ck behind her delicate ear.

  Alexis's blushed deepened. “Why do you like me?” she asked, taking my hand and placing it on my leg.

  “Why not?” I wrapped my fingers around her hand, not wanting to stop touching her.

  “I'm not like them,” she said, looking at our hands.

  “Like who?” I asked, confused.

  “The girls in the movies are always beautiful, smart and strong. I am not any of those things. I'm too skinny and I've never even been on a date,” she said nervously, tugging the piece of hair I had touched.

  “Movies are stories made up in someone's mind. Everything about them is fake. People in real life never resemble those in movies,” I said.

  “But you're like them,” she pointed out. “Young, beautiful, rich and educated.”

  “Being immortal changes the way you look and how humans perceive you. My body is covered in scars your human eyes cannot see. But you can feel them. Here.” I took her hand and guided her fingers over the fine scars on my wrist. “Annora hung me between two wooden posts and whipped me until I passed out. I do not remember now what I did to piss her off, but after three days of hanging, the metal cuffs had to be dug out of my wrists to remove them. These scars are the least among them.”

  She stared at my wrist, her face unreadable.

  “To me, you are beautiful,” I said softly. “Moreover, look at everything you have lived through. If that isn't a testament to your strength and brilliance, I don't know what is.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  I gently touched her face, the bruise under her chin nearly gone. “Alexis?”

  “Yeah?” she replied, stifling a yawn.

  “I want you to know, I want you to be with me. However, I will not make you do anything against your will. I won't stop pursuing you, but I will only lay with you when you're ready.”

  She nodded and leaned back against the settee, her eyelids heavier by the second. I smiled and gently wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. She was stiff for a moment then relaxed against me, yawning again.

  “It's okay,” I said. “Sleep. I will keep you safe.”

  My mind focused on her many questions and struggled against the memories of my youth that resurfaced as she slipped into a deep sleep.

  Barely ten, I stared out of my window as men on horseback cut people down as they ran. Blazing arrows fell like rain upon our small village. They stormed into our home; my brother took my hand and we ran into the storage cellar. As we sat in the dark I could hear screaming and yelling just beyond the solid oak door. The screams came closer until two men in black surcoats and silver chainmail forced the door open and pulled us from our hiding place. My brother kicked the man holding him. I watched as the bloody sword impaled his tiny body. My screams echoed through the stone kitchen.

  Forcing my mind back to the present, I stood, lifted her sleeping body into my arms, and lay her on my bed. I covered her with the sheet. Needing to occupy my mind, I opened a can of cat food in the kitchen and scooped it onto a flat paper plate. Alexis began to toss from side to side, her forehead creased.

  “Stop.” Her desperate plea instantly pulled my mind back into the dark memories of my youth and the burning village that had once been my home.

  I was thrown into the mud, women and children crying around me. I watched as the horsemen violently took the women and girls, their screams forever etched into my young heart. Two hulking men grabbed me, dragging me into a space between two burning huts.

  I grimaced and shook my head, trying to force the memories away as my mind played out my rape and first sexual experience in explicit detail.

  Alexis sat straight up, searching her unfamiliar surroundings. I could see the panic and terror on her face, a look I knew all too well.

  I set Sophia's food down on the floor. “It's all right. You’re safe. It was only a dream,” I said.

  She jumped and turned to stare at me in fear.

  “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you,” I said, crossing the room to sit on the floor next to her.

  “Sorry. I...” Alexis looked away, haunted by the dark place her nightmare had brought her back to.

  I rested my cool hand onto her warm one and she looked at me. “I get them too,” I said, smiling weakly.

  “You do? Do you sleep?” she asked.

  “Only if I'm injured, or sometimes I will just to pass the time, but I don't require it to function. My nightmares are more like waking memories which have a tendency to resurface against my will.”

  “Oh,” she said, and I saw the questions in her eyes but she did not speak.

  Instead, she lay back down and pulled the covers around herself. I leaned up against the bed, still holding her hand.

  “When bad things happen to good people,” I said, my voice distant, “it leaves a wound that fills with hate, fear and sadness. Old memories never allow the wound to heal. You try to forget, but the pain keeps coming back to remind you there is a wound in your heart. People like me have so many wounds there isn't much heart left.”

  “You have a heart,” Alexis said.

  “It's all scars and black pits now,” I replied, looking at our hands.

  “But it's still there,” she pointed out, moving closer.

  “Maybe.”

  “Will they ever go away?”

  I shrugged. “I don't know. The moment Annora turned me, she froze me, wounds and all. I'm stuck, unable to heal.”

  “You're not frozen. Maybe just sleeping, waiting for the right person to wake you,” Alexis said, intertwining our fingers.

  Her kind words and gesture filled my being. We sat staring at each other for a long moment. Just as I began to wonder what she was thinking, she leaned forward and kissed me. It was small and quick, but it left my whole body tingling with warmth.

  “It's warm in here,” she said and I nodded dumbly.

  I wanted nothing more than to reach for her, pull her into my arms, and kiss her passionately. Instead, I stood, afraid if I stayed beside her I would not be able to help myself.

  She closed her fingers around mine tighter. “Stay,” she said softly.

  “You need your sleep if you're going to work tonight,” I replied.

  “Just stay,” she pleaded.

  I knelt back down beside the bed. “Alright, sleep. I will be right here.”

  I remained motionless, a statue beside her as hours passed. She tossed and turned. I guessed it was hard for her to find solace from the realities of her life; they hunted her even in her sleep. I wiped a tear from her cheek and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Did you stay here all day?” she asked, still sleepy. I nodded. “What time is it?”

  She sat up.

  “About eight,” I said, looking out my darkened window.

  Alexis sighed.

  “What?” I turned back to her.

  “Nothing. It's just I think I've figured out why people hate their jobs,” she said, stretching.

  “Really?” I crossed the room to dispose of the cat's empty plate.

  “Because it takes you away from a place you would rather be,” she replied.

  “I could walk you,” I offered with a smile.

  She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and picked herself up. “I'd like that.” She gestured to the bathroom. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  I tried to concentrate on something other than the sound of hot shower water running down her naked body. My hands balled into fists. I had promised to wait but keeping my promise was turning out to be harder than I thought. Especially when her naked body was only feet from me behind a thin door. I paced. The water shut off and the apartment fell silent.

  What seemed like an eternity later, the door opened. “How do I look?” she asked.

  Turning, I found her standing in dark blue jeans and a bright yellow t-shirt, the words Sal's Diner printed in the left corner; it was the same outfit from yesterday. Her hair was pulled back into a single ponytail, revealin
g more of her slender neck.

  I closed the distance between us. “Beautiful.”

  She took my hand in hers when I reached up to touch her face. “Your turn!” she said and I grinned.

  “No peeking,” I said, gathering up the clothing I had selected.

  Disappearing into the bathroom, I showered with ice-cold water, hoping it would help alleviate my sexual frustration. Drying, I donned my black leather leggings and a red V-neck cami top with an open back and black leather boots. It was my favorite outfit and surprisingly the only clean clothing I still possessed. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Alexis's sharp intake of air and fast beating heart was all the acknowledgment I needed, but I could not help myself.

  “So how do I look?” I asked, turning in a slow circle.

  I laughed when she blushed a deep red. “You have a tattoo,” she said, changing the subject.

  Turning around so she could see my back, I said, “It’s a tribal hawk. I got it five years ago.”

  “I didn't think Immortals could get tattoos,” Alexis said.

  “It's not an easy process. First thing they do is scrape two layers of skin off with a sharp, silver dagger. After, they pour water with silver shavings into the wound. Then they take a fang and ink mixed with Immortal blood and silver, and create the design with quick fast motions,” I explained, turning to face her.

  “Sounds painful,” she said.

  “It was. Do you have any?” I asked.

  “Um... No. After a girl at school pierced my ears with a needle, I decided I'm not into pain.”

  I laughed. “Annora did mine with a needle when I was eleven.”

  “Do you have any more?” she asked.

  “A black vine with thorns and red roses,” I replied.

  “Where?” she asked.

  I lifted my shirt, revealing the tattoo. It ran the length of my right side, disappearing beneath my bra and jeans.

  “It's beautiful,” she said, gently brushing her fingers against my skin.

  Her touch sent waves of warm joy through my body. “Alexis?” I asked, letting my shirt go.