The Heart's Ashes

by A. M. Hudson

  “The more blood you have, Ara, the stronger you’ll get.” Emily smiled and offered me her arm again.

  “But I’m not strong.” I turned my head, pushing Emily’s arm away. “I’m pathetic and weak; I couldn’t even try to escape when he gave me the chance.”

  “He gave you a chance to escape?” Emily gasped.

  “No, he just—” I shut my mouth and crossed my arms. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  They went quiet; probably exchanging glances of concern. They all want to know what happened, but as long as I keep it inside, it’s not real. None of it will be real. Not Jason’s betrayal, not David, not immortality and not what happened to me, either.

  “Ara.” Emily rolled the taps off and wrapped a towel around my shoulders. “I need you to drink blood, okay. Or I will have to pin you down and force it in, and I—”

  “Don’t!” Eric appeared behind Morgaine. “What ever you do—don’t do that.”

  “Eric? That was quick.” Emily moved as Morgaine stood up.

  “I know.” He stared back at me, his eyes wide, face pale, then squatted beside the shower and untucked my hand from the towel—holding it gently; “Amara, please. Drink blood.”

  “I can’t, Eric.” My eyes watered, looking into his. “I can’t. I don’t want to be a vampire. I just wanna go home—to my dad’s, back to normal life.”

  “But Amara, my beautiful, most dear friend, you are a vampire. And you must drink blood, or you will wither away. I don’t want you to suffer any more than you already have.”

  The care and concern masked behind his liquid eyes forced me to hold a breath. There was a connection between us now; a secret connection—forged by a journey that only he and I shared. Things would never be the same between us again. We both watched the story unfold in each other’s eyes, torn and tearless on the outside, destroyed and pleading for mercy inside.

  “Please drink. If for nothing else in the world but to do it for me, please. Just, drink blood, Amara.”

  “Yeah—” Morgaine stepped in, “—then I’ll tell you how to save the Immortal Damned.”

  “Is there really a way?” I looked past Eric. “Or are you just lying to me to make me want to live?”

  “Would it make you want to live?” she asked.

  I don’t know. Perhaps. More than I do right now. I nodded slowly.

  “Amara?” Eric smoothed his hand down my face and rested it on my shoulder. “I’m going to carry you, okay?”

  I nodded. Eric scooped me out of the shower and swiftly glided along the floor until we reached my bedroom, then placed me gently on my feet. I clutched my towel to my chest as the familiar, enveloping scent of my room struck me with a harsh internal blow.

  I can still smell him here. I was supposed to be gone, on a plane to Paris, coming back here only when I was immortal—immortal with David.

  Now, I’m here, I’m immortal, but I don’t have him.

  The bed—it looked just the same as the way we left it when we woke the morning before our wedding and made it with fresh sheets, cleaning away the blood from the night before.

  If I’d known, on that last night together, when he held me so close, touching every inch of my body with widespread fingers, memorising my human skin, kissing my beating heart, feeling the warmth that would soon belong to immortality, that that memory would be our last, for eternity, I’d have savoured so much more.

  I can’t die; all I can do is suffer an eternal darkness without a body—a wandering soul, no longer connected to the world—like my coma, that horrible nightmare I never wanted to return to.

  But life, now, without David, how is that any different?

  How will I wake tomorrow and see the sun; what is the sun? What does it mean to me now if it will never mean holding hands with David, laying by the lake under the new summer foliage, or warming our cold hands in the light through the window over the piano.

  He’s gone, and so is everything good this world had left in it; he met me at the gateway to eternity, and I lost him there—lost him for forever.

  “Ara?” Mike came up out of nowhere, his voice softer than ever before. “Come on, baby, let’s get some clothes on you.”

  Tears screened my eyes as I stared at the empty, unravelled, unused bed; it won’t smell like him now; it’ll be cold—the history of his skin against the sheets, absent, gone. It’s all so empty. So, so empty. The tears spilled over; each inch of skin they touched turned to death as they rolled past.

  This is stupid. I can’t. I can’t live without him—I never could. “Mike?” I looked up at him, blinking as more tears fell. “Mike—you have to kill me.”

  He stared ahead at the emptiness beyond my soul, and I let my tears flow, breathing the air that the smell of home forced my lungs to draw.

  That’s it—there’s no more hope. Once, I owned the hope that maybe he was out there somewhere, waiting for me, looking for me, but now, I know. I know he’ll never smile at me again; he won’t walk around the corner and throw me on the bed, tickling me until I scream; I’ll never taste another cup of his perfect coffee, make love to him as my husband, or even have our first dance. It’s all gone now. Even the ring on his finger. Gone—no memento to keep. It was all just taken away. It’s just so cruel. An instant, and he vanished, forever.

  His hand, as he stepped foot out of Jason’s car, and the way he smiled; if I’d known that was the last touch, I could’ve held on longer—kissed him, told him how much I love him, how sorry I am that I didn’t give up my life to be with him sooner.

  I wanted to fall, to cry, but what good would it do? I can’t ever go to him; he’s gone, passed—wandering somewhere in the next life without me—a place Lilithians don’t go when they die.

  A hand appeared in front of me. Unable to see through the tears, unable to breathe through the pain in my chest, I only made out the blurred, shifting image of something gold and round. “David asked me to keep these safe for him.”

  The tears rolled down my face, as if maybe they didn’t belong to me, like I was watching them leave the eyes of the dead. My shaky, thin fingers rose to touch her hand, scooping as they did, a white-gold wedding band and a silver bangle with a moonstone at the centre; the last memory of David’s mother—now, the last memory of David.

  Mike caught me as my knees buckled and carried me to the bed, my hands clutching tightly around the metal remains of my life.

  “Mike?” Morgaine stood beside him, both of them towering over me. “She needs blood. We might have to—”

  “No.” Eric touched Mike’s shoulder; I stared forward, numb. “Let me talk with her.”

  Mike nodded and took a step back, allowing Eric to sit on the bed. He cradled me against his chest, my bare skin pressing against his warm silk shirt. “Amara. I’m going to make a little slit in my arm, and you’re going to drink from me, okay.”

  “No.”

  Eric rubbed his thumb across his brow, then slid both hands along the side of my face, clutching firmly. “I’m not joking, Ara. You are a vampire; you need to accept that.”

  My tongue moved forward and wet my lips. I’m not ready to accept it.

  Eric, without hesitation, took my silence as subordination, and stabbed his fingernail into his vein—deeply. The blood pulsed in one gush, and flowed out over his skin.

  Without thinking, I placed the bangle and wedding band on the bed, and grabbed Eric’s arm. Like tasting the first sweet, sugary sip of hot cocoa in winter, Eric’s blood spilled into my mouth, flooding my lips and soothing the ache I didn’t know I had in my throat. My bony fingers lifted his arm higher so, with my head tilted back, I could gulp faster.

  “That’s a good girl.” Eric gently stroked my hair and wiped the tears I cried for anger—anger for allowing myself to succumb to the craving—and the tears of relief, because I was home, safe, and because I loved the taste of blood, and even more, the blood of my friend, Eric. “Shh, that’s it, beautiful girl, just breathe,” he said, and as the wou
nd healed shut under my lips, cutting my supply, I released my grip and looked up at Mike; he closed his mouth quickly and stood taller.

  I didn’t want him to see that—to see me…feeding.

  A smile mixed with awe and sympathy guarded Eric’s lips. “You’ll get used to it, Mike.” He tore his eyes away from me and looked at Mike. “She’s a vampire now. You can’t stop her from biting, anymore.”

  And I apparently can’t stop myself from drinking blood, either. I folded my arms over my chest and looked down.

  “Come on,” Mike offered. “You’re shivering. Time to get dressed.”

  I stood up, tugging hard on his hand to get to my feet.

  “Morg, hand me those clothes there?” Mike pointed to the chair by the wardrobe. “Thanks.” He caught them and slipped the sweater over my head. “Come on—slide your arms through,” he said, guiding each one. “Okay, sit.” He pushed me gently onto the bed and wriggled my feet through my underwear and tracksuit pants, then took my hand, stood me up, and shimmed them under the towel—pulling it away once my clothes covered me completely. “See? Magic.” He grinned.

  “Bravo.” Eric clapped once. “You’ve done that before.”

  “Well—” Mike stood tall and threw the towel over his shoulder, “—I grew up with her. I’ve had to do that quite a few times.”

  I looked down, holding back a sheepish grin.

  “Okay,” Morgaine said, “well, I’ll leave you guys to it. I need to get back to—”

  “Morgaine.” I reached for her. “Tell me how to save them? The Immortal Damned. You said you’d tell me.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure.” She grinned. “The power within you.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your life has been mapped out, Amara. According to a prophecy told centuries ago you will have a child one day. She will restore peace to our kind and wield great power—one of those is said to be the gift of life.”

  “Life?”

  “Yes, to restore what once was living, now without death.” She grinned; my face folded into a frown. “The ability to return vampires to their original form.”

  “Human form?”

  “Yes.”

  My hands crossed my belly; I looked down. “A child?”

  “Yes.” She grinned, then shrugged. “I said I knew a way—didn’t say you were going to like it.”

  Mike lifted a frozen me from under the arms and rolled me onto the pillow, tucking my feet under the blanket as he did. “Sleep now, Amara. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  I nodded.

  Eric sat and rolled up his sleeve. “I’ll just give you a little more—it’ll help you sleep.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  As the warmth of blood filled my mouth once again, I closed my eyes for a second and drank lazily, letting half of it slip down my chin.

  “So tired, aren’t ya, kiddo?” Eric wiped the blood from my neck and chest with the towel Mike handed him.

  “Eric,” I whispered before the softness of sleep swallowed my thoughts.

  “Yes, beautiful girl.”

  “How did you end up being Jason’s assistant?”

  “I lied to the Council—told them the vampire and the pretty girl I’d been hanging out with was Jason and his girlfriend. They found out the truth, and my punishment was to assist in your torture.”

  “Then, how did you get to Mike and Emily—to tell them?”

  “Jason sent me on an errand—to get a t…to get something he needed.”

  “A tool.” I rolled my face away, closing my eyes. “Don’t treat me like a baby, Eric. He sent you to get a tool.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he know you’d get help?”

  “Yes.”

  I looked at him, my mind waking. “Why did he let you go, then?”

  “He couldn’t admit it, but he wanted you rescued.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “How do you know he wanted you to get help?”

  “Because when he un-cuffed me and told me to go into town, I asked him if he was crazy—asked him if he knew where my allegiance laid.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said yes.”

  Mike’s shadow filled the space around Eric. “That’s enough for tonight, mate. Let her rest.”

  “Okay. Amara, I’ll be right outside your door—just whisper and I’ll come.”

  “Thanks, Eric,” I murmured.

  The door closed, leaving me in darkness, and the peaceful tranquillity of blood stole me away.

  In someplace, floating in dreamland, I let my mind wander to the lake. David—he would always be there, in our safe place, with me—no matter what the physical world thought of to tear us apart.

  As the sunlight washed down over my face when I stepped out of the shadows, I saw him; playing my guitar, like always. But I knew I couldn’t go to him; knew there was a boundary there now.

  I rested a flat palm to the glass, which frosted and turned cold under my touch. I’d never be a part of his world again, never lay with him against the rock while everything spun around us. All I could do was watch him existing in the innocence of the past while my heart ached to be with him. “I’m so sorry, David,” I whispered, leaning my head against the icy partition.

  On the other side, long, bone-white fingers touched mine through the cold, and I looked up at David, who smiled at me; his dark green eyes sparkling in the corners—but his lips blue, his face ashen. “I’m not sorry, Ara. Now I get to keep you here for eternity. I’ll be waiting…waiting...”

  “Wait,” I cried as his voice trailed off, leaving my hand alone against the cold glass. “David?”

  The light in this world went black; the wind picked up around me, whipping my hair out behind me, wrapping my long, lace dress around me feet. And the glass fell away, leaving my hands falling through the absent air.

  He’s gone.

  I wrapped my arms across my body.

  Everything is gone.

  I felt nothing around me; not behind me, underneath me. I am alone.

  “I love you, David, forever,” I whispered softly as I closed my eyes.

  Quiet whispers urged my attention. My eyes stayed shut while my ears pricked. “I know she’s alive,” said a voice I didn’t know—a strong, austere voice.

  “She’s dead. Now, will you please leave us to grieve her passing in peace,” Mike said.

  I heard a thud, like a flat palm on wood. “I watched you leave the castle with her, Monsieur White. I know she’s alive. Now, show me to her, I beg of you.”

  My eyes flashed open. Wait! I do know that voice.

  “She’s sleeping.”

  “She’s awake. I can hear her heart,” the man said, his voice carrying through the walls, right into my deepest cavity of fear.

  Mike sighed.

  “Please,” the man said, “just let me see her. Let me see that she’s all right, and I’ll leave.”

  “What makes you think I’m going to trust you for one second with her.”

  “I ask out of respect, Monsieur White. If I came here to impose or to hurt her, I’d have brought guards.” All went silent. I wished I were out there, watching. “I am unarmed, unprotected. See for yourself.”

  A soft patting sound filled the silence. “Fine,” Mike said. “So you’re unarmed. That means nothing to me. How do I know you’re not here to kill her?”

  “If that were so she’d already be dead.”

  “All the same, you’re still not getting within an inch of her. Now leave.”

  “Goddamn it, I fought for her. I fought for her,” he raised his voice, “I did everything I could to have her life spared, and I battled within the last inches of my political boundaries to save my son.”

  Son? Arthur. That’s Arthur’s voice. I sat up. Arthur was the austere voice.

  “Yeah, well, some job your political boundaries did. How ‘bout moral boundaries? How ‘bout life versus death?”

  “
Please. She’s all that’s left of him, now. Just show me that she’s all right. I’ll give you anything—I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

  “Where’s Drake?” Mike asked.

  “Show me the princess, and I’ll tell you.”

  “Tell me, and I’ll show her to you.”

  Arthur sighed. “Very well, he’s hiding in Rome. He has a safe house there. Show me the princess, and I will give you the exact location.”

  “Why would you give up your own king?”

  Arthur went silent. “I have my reasons—reasons I do not wish to share at this point, but you must trust me. I mean no harm to Amara, or to the Lilithians. I merely want to keep her safe.”

  “Why?”

  “Just take me to her. Please?”

  “Mike?” Morgaine’s voice broke into the conversation. “Show him. Then he can leave.”

  Mike huffed and the front door closed.

  Do I wake up, or pretend to be asleep? I don’t know. None of them have footsteps. I should be able to hear them walking, but there’s nothing.

  As the door handle twisted, I flopped back down on the pillow and closed my eyes. Sleep acting it is. I’m not ready to face Arthur.

  A long, slow sigh carried the sound of relief. “So, it is true.”

  “What?” Mike asked.

  “My son left a note telling me where I could find her if everything went to plan.”

  “Plan?” Mike scoffed, closing my door. “What plan?”

  “He was supposed to…to throw her from the window if you didn’t get there in time.” Arthur cleared his throat. “I was to pick up the pieces and bring her here.”

  “Why would he do that?” Mike snarled, and a scuffling noise ended with a dull thud on the wall. “Why would he throw her out a window?”

  “Relax, Mike,” Morgaine cut in. “She wouldn’t have died from it. It was actually very clever. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it.”

  “No,” Mike said. “Don’t you believe him, Morgaine. There’s no way they could mutilate her like that, and be planning to help her all along.”

  “I know,” Morgaine said. “Arthur, what’s your deal? What’re you doing here?”

  “Let me see her, tomorrow, and I will explain.”