HeartWorks

by Charmaine Gordon

  She searched the crowd for her mysterious suitor, but saw no sign of him. Jannessa wondered how she’d know him, never having seen his face. She continued to pin her hopes of his being there, though, after all, he’d sent the necklace and the dress. While she waited for him, she had to do her daughterly duty and dance with each of the suitors. The old man from Austria approached her first.

  “Dance, m’dear?”

  “Of course.” She held her arm toward him, He took it gracefully, led her to the dance floor. They made pleasant but boring small talk. He told her of his riches, and a wife that had died twenty years before. They’d had no heir, and he needed someone to take over his spice trade. Jannessa listened politely, but felt she was more holding him up, than dancing with him. Inwardly she sighed, the idea of spending life with this man held no appeal. He was nice enough, but she wanted love and passion. This was a luxury she knew she didn’t have.

  The song wound down, and she curtsied and thanked the trader for the dance. Jannessa escorted him from the dance floor, and found Prince de Cordeba waiting for his dance.

  “Shall we,” He held out his arm, and escorted her back to the floor. Looking at the men on the side, she noted that the Hungarian ambassador’s face had gone bright red. He was furious about something.

  The prince was a good dancer, and she very much enjoyed dancing with him. He seemed to enjoy himself as much. Toward the end of the music, he leaned in, and gave her an offer.

  “I need an heir, my Lady. That is all. If I am to be your husband, which is not yet established, all I want from you is an heir. After which, my estates and money will all be available to you, for whatever you like, as long as you never reveal my secret. Because though you are beautiful, I fancy no woman. Still, you would be treated as a princess and I hope, in the future, a friend.” It wasn’t a bad offer. Prince Andres wasn’t hard to look at, and maybe they could be friends. The idea was worth considering.

  “I will think upon what you said.” Jannessa whispered as the music ended. Before she and the prince could make it to the side of the room, His Excellency Nikolous Kovak muscled the prince away from her, grabbed her hand hard, and pulled her back in, as the next song started.

  “Please, your Excellency, you’re hurting me.” Jannessa nearly sobbed in a whisper.

  “I know, my dear. You should not have danced with your other suitors first.” His voice held a level of malice that had never before been direct her way.

  “Please, it wasn’t my choice.” Before she knew what was happening, he’d snaked his hand up to her hair, and gave it a hard yank, bringing stars to her eyes.

  “You will learn, as my bid shall be the highest, that you do not argue with me. I am not your equal; I will always be your better.” As if to prove his point, he yanked her hair again, this time hard enough to bring tears. Which was just too much for Jannessa. She wiggled one arm free, and slapped Kovak in the face, hard enough that the other dancers turned to watch.

  Through clenched teeth she whispered “I don’t know who you think I am, but I am no one’s punching bag. I would not marry you if you were the last man who could line my father’s pockets. You disgust me, and you shall never touch me again.” Jannessa spun on her heel, knowing she went too far. She rushed through the balcony door at the side of the room, and ran into the garden and into the night. Jannessa was aware that she wouldn’t be alone long.

  Staring into the darkness gave her a sense of calm. No one had ever laid a hand upon her, or spoke to her with such anger and hate. It unnerved Jannessa to know there were men of such cruelty in the world, and was glad for her sheltered life. Worse, it broke her heart that some woman would, or already had, been married to that pig of a man.

  It wasn’t long before she heard the click of a man’s shoes behind her.

  “Daughter, you have embarrassed and insulted me. You had no right to hit his Excellency Kovak. You left the dance full of gossip, and in turn shamed me. Not to mention, Kovak was left alone and he his furious. If you do not go right to him and make your apologies, he will leave. And with a display like you showed, the other two may leave as well. You were raised better!”

  “But Father, he pulled my hair. And threated to do worse.” Her father, his Excellency then did something he swore he’d never do. Herraoud Guillory grabbed his daughter with one hand, and slapped her with the other. Jannessa was so stunned; the tears rolling down her face spoke for her. Up until now, her father had always been distant, but never cruel.

  A voice snaked through the night, addressing Herraoud.

  “Take your hands off of her.” It was him! He’d shown up as promised, and sounded quite angry. It was obvious he did not like what he’d just witnessed.

  “This is none of your business, sir!” Herraoud hissed, not looking at the voice, his eyes burning into his daughter. She would no longer mock him, by looking so like his wife. He drew back his arm to hit her again. Jannessa flinched back, awaiting the blow that never came.

  “Unhand me.” Her father yelled.

  “Non, I don’t think I shall. You will never hit the Lady Jannessa again. This I do promise you.”

  “I am a father, disciplining his willful and obstinate child. This is, again, not your business.” Jannessa’s father let go of her dress, causing her to stumbling to the garden wall. It also gave her a chance to look at her savior. He was dressed all in black, against custom, with silver, Celtic cross at his neck. It was larger than the one Jannessa wore, and didn’t have the gemstone, but otherwise was identical. He had been correct, Jannessa, even without hearing his voice, would have known him in an instant.

  “I fear I must disagree with you. I have chosen to make it my business. If the Lady Jannessa will have me,” he winked at Jannessa then, from the palest blue eyes she’d ever seen, “I wish to marry the lady. I often get what I want, and I do not like anyone hitting my intended.” His accent floated on the night, and Jannessa was reminded of their first meeting. This man, whom she’d never seen completely before, had captured her whole heart.

  “What makes you, someone I’ve never met; think you could have my blessing to marry my only child? Are you rich? Are you landed? Where are you even from?” Jannessa couldn’t believe her father. Regardless of her feelings for the man in black, how could Herraoud immediately ask him if he was marriage material?

  “I am both rich and landed. Where I am from is of no consequence. You do not care for your daughter, Mr. Guillory,” he left the title off on purpose, “and I do. You would sell her to the men in there: too old, into men, and of course, the one you are angry she offended. The man who would hit, and break her. You have no respect for the amazing, shining jewel that you only ever call daughter. So though I am landed, and I am rich, you shall see none of it, and be grateful for it.” The dark man began to squeeze her father’s arm, whose face went from furious to pale in a matter of moments. Before her father had a chance to speak, the man in black spoke again, this time to Jannessa.

  “Lady Jannessa Emilie Liliana Guillory, I am Baron Ricard Von Easton. I promised I would tell you who and what I was tonight. Mr. Guillory, I suggest you get back to your guests. Now! Jannessa and I have important matters to speak of. Things of which, you are not a part!” Ricard gave one last squeeze, ensuring that her father would rush back inside. And he did.

  “You know, Baron, he’s going to call his guards.”

  “Then I suppose we must speak quickly. You are beautiful and smart. I would have you to wife. But first, you must know what I am. I am not a man. I have lived thousands of years, and will likely live thousands more. And to survive, I drink the blood of the living.” He looked away then, afraid to see the horror on her face.

  “Are you likely to drink mine?” she asked, after several seconds of thoughtful contemplation.

  “Non. I love you, and wish to spend your life with me.”

  “My life?”

  “You are mortal, you will not live my lifespan…”

  “Unless you make me like
you. Then we can be together forever.”

  “No!” This was the first sharp word Jannessa had heard from him. “I can not. This is not a blessing, my dear, it is a curse. And it would change you, and you would no longer be the Jannessa I love so.”

  “I see.” Jannessa’s heart wanted to yell “Yes” at the top of her lungs, but there was something she had to do first.

  “If I say yes, someone here in the castle that I care much for, would be in danger. And I could use a ladies maid. Would we be able to take Sabine with us, wherever we go?”

  Ricard was moved by this. His beloved was not only smart and beautiful, she was compassionate. Traits he didn’t see much of in his own world.

  “Of course, my love. Anything you want. For I shall see you happy, and loved all your days. And if she loves you so, as I have seen, who would I be, to say no?”

  “In that case, Baron Ricard Von Easton, get me out of here, with my maid, and I shall marry you. I will, and I will love you for the rest of my life.”

  In the darkness, Ricard smiled his first true smile in centuries.

  Sweets for Your Sweet

  by Angela Kay Austin

  Chapter One

  The mountains looming on the horizon shadowed the highway speckled beige by the light of overhead lampposts. They had been Victoria Marie James’ main companions for the past thirteen hours. The navigational system mounted in her dashboard sang at her with every turn. The relentless voice pointed out her inability to find the right exit an hour outside of Memphis—her childhood hometown. One five-minute break at a rest stop for a quick cup of coffee—now, staining her gray jogging pants—was turning into a nightmare. Automatic updates her ass. The red and blue lights in her rearview mirror followed by short bursts of a siren were God sent. She pulled onto the shoulder of 240 West and waited.

  The officer dismounted his motorcycle, and approached her. It was after 2:00 A.M., and she’d exhausted herself turning in circles for the last thirty minutes. She didn’t know what she was doing. Memphis, Tennessee was only so big. The familiar gait of the backlit figure approaching her car knotted her stomach. Chad Michael Kirkpatrick. There was no way fate could be so cruel.

  When her window slid down, she stared at the beautiful blond curls peeking from underneath the helmet, highlighting brown eyes. She remembered a time when he preferred glasses, but thought they might be uncomfortable under his helmet.

  “License and registration, please.”

  With a steely glare, he waited as she rooted around in her glove box, and then her wallet. She glanced at his nametag—Kirkpatrick, and back into his eyes several times as she handed him both items. What was she supposed to say or do? Eventually, she knew she’d have to face him, but not after nearly fourteen hours in a car surrounded by trash from Slim Jims, fast food, and coffee cups. And really not while wearing stained clothing. Their fingers brushed in the exchange. Goodness, such a simple touch, but it flooded her with so many memories. Not all of them good. God, how could she have hurt him so badly?

  With an exhale, her back straightened thrusting forward her small bosom; she quickly lifted then dropped her shoulders, but said nothing. Simply rested her hands in her lap, and sat quietly. Was she shaking off his touch, his memory, or did she simply not care at all? “Vic-Ms. James, I noticed you circling. Are you lost?”

  “Yes, I am, Officer Kirkpatrick.”

  Officer Kirkpatrick. Usually, the formality is expected, but this time it wasn’t nor was it wanted. He watched her fingers fiddle with the gauges on her dash, running across them as she spoke.

  She glanced at the GPS embedded in her dashboard, and thumped it. “For some reason, this dumb thing is not putting me where I need to be.”

  He knew exactly where she was headed, but if she wasn’t going to say anything then neither was he. “So, where are you going? Maybe, I can help you find it.” He handed her back her papers.

  “I just need to find Elvis Presley Boulevard so I can get over to Lamar, but the freaking GPS keeps dumping me back onto the highway. Now, I need gas.”

  She wasn’t talking about anything they couldn’t fix, but he watched as her eyes began to glisten with tears. Where was she coming from, anyway? And where was her husband or boyfriend—fiancé? That’s what the high school newsletter had called him: fiancé.

  He nodded at the road ahead. “Ms. James, if you get off at the exit ahead of you there’s a gas station. Once you gas up and get back on the highway continue south. About ten miles down you’ll see the exit you need.” He handed her a card. “If you get lost again, call me.”

  She took the card; read it, and again looked into his eyes. The connection lasted only moments before she turned away. He pulled down his visor, and turned to mount his bike and leave. He watched as she pulled her car back onto the road before he turned back to his hideaway tucked between trees and construction. Victoria was back, and from the size of the trailer hitched to the back of her car, it looked like she planned to stay. Why? As he flicked off his lights, he decided it didn’t matter. She had acted as if they were strangers, and driven off without a hi or bye.

  In twelve years he hadn’t forgotten her. How could he stop thinking about her, now that he’d seen her again? Ensconced in his shrouded hideaway, he remembered it all. High school. Their child. Almost. Why torture himself about something she stopped before it could even begin? He tried to push it all out of his mind, but from the soulful gospel music playing in the background to the trash littered through the car to her aloofness, she wasn’t the same.

  He checked his watch. Soon his overtime would be finished, and he could go home and crash. Every day, for the past two weeks, he’d pulled some kind of overtime or worked at one of his part-time jobs. He needed every penny.

  Wind buzzed around Chad’s helmet as he pushed his bike to its limits. He knew he shouldn’t, but he was tired, and he wanted to be at home in his favorite chair in front of the TV. Grab a sandwich and sleep for about ten hours. The call dispatch sent across the radio meant he had to double back before he made his way to the station. Damn. He really could use some sleep. The overtime and Paige’s tuition were killing him.

  The dispatcher’s call sent him to a neighborhood which had a record number of calls every night: domestic violence, car thefts, break-ins, and a few robberies.

  A gas station attendant approached him before he could get off his bike. The woman’s thinning hair, frail frame, and caked on make-up probably aged her by fifteen years. Overhead fluorescent lights glared across her ashen leathery skin highlighting a rainbow of stains soiling her uniform. The spunk in her step and slight flirtatious smile confirmed she was younger than she looked. Her name tag spelled Jenny.

  “Officer.” The gap in her front teeth caused her Cs to have a hissing sound. “Officer, the gal inside needs your help. She done gone and got her car stolen.”

  He scanned the area, but saw nothing. No broken glass, sticks, rocks, nothing. “Ma’am, where is she?”

  “Inside. I gave ‘er some water to calm ‘er nerves.”

  In this part of town, no one ever had working cameras, but he asked anyway. “Are your cameras working?”

  “No, sir, but I saw a lot.”

  “Okay, let me talk to the victim first, and then I’ll want to talk to you, too.”

  Jenny walked through the doors ahead of him. When she stepped to the side, he saw her. Victoria. What the hell was she doing here? He’d sent her to a gas station in a completely different direction. It’d been twelve years since she’d lived in Memphis, but did she really not remember anything. Or did she want to forget everything?

  Puffy red eyes stared blankly at rows of chips. Her body went limp like a deflated balloon; she slid from the folding chair onto the floor. He ran—too slow—and watched her head hit the floor.

  Crouching at her side, he removed his helmet and gloves and smoothed away the black curls covering her eyes. He propped her head up with the jacket he wore. Her eyes flickered open as his finge
rs checked her wrist for a pulse.

  Slowly, she woke. “Mikey.”

  Mikey. No one had called him Mikey since she left town. “You okay?” He scanned her body. His fingers slid from her forehead down her cheek. “How’s your head?” Creases in her forehead softened.

  “I’m okay.” She tried to push herself off the floor. “What happened?”

  He jerked his hand from her wrist, and gently pressed it against her heart to stop her from rising. Her heartbeat quickened beneath his touch. “Stay here for a moment. You fainted and hit your head. Give it a minute.” Silently she complied with his request. “Are you okay?” She closed her eyes, and nodded in silence. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

  “No, I’m okay.” She covered his hand with hers, and tried to push from the floor again. This time he helped her ease into a sitting position.

  “Is there someone you want me to call?”

  “No. No one.”

  No one. “What about Gramps?” Your fiancé?

  Her grip on his hand tightened. “Please no. I don’t want him to worry.”

  “Okay. Can you tell me what happened?”

  She looked at him; her pinched expression replaced—with what? Relief? Happiness? He wasn’t sure, but it made him want to never let her leave his side again. “Mikey.” She threw her arms around his neck. “They took everything.” Soft sobs hiccupped against his neck.

  Jenny stared at them wide-eyed before she turned and walked back behind the counter to busy herself cleaning the coffee maker.

  “Mikey, my car. My stuff. They got everything.”

  Through his layers of Kevlar he felt the old familiar warmth of her. Hair scented of aloe flooded his senses. This time she wasn’t a dream that faded with the buzz of his alarm clock, but the car and things she cried about were not his Victory. The belt he wore loaded with everything from his radio to his gun stopped him from getting as close as he would have liked. “Victoria, slow down. Tell me what happened.”