Key to My Heart: An Anthology of Sweet Romance

by Alice La Roux

  “You don’t like me doing this, Meredith,” she said suddenly, glancing up at me. “Do you?”

  “Is it so obvious?” I replied.

  “Yes,” she said. “I can feel your energy spiking: you are desperate to take my phone from me. But we talked about this. I have responsibilities at work, and I have to answer their questions about our patients.”

  “I know,” I replied, my jaw clenched. “And I enjoyed our quiet time while it lasted.”

  “Just give me a few minutes,” she promised, “and I will be back with you. I just have to make a phone call. Shall we walk along the promenade for a bit?”

  I stared at her as she stood up, purposely making her wait.

  She held my gaze, battling my mood, and then she sent a quick spike of magical energy towards me. “Don’t spoil our day, Meredith,” she warned. “Not if you want to stay with me.” She set off up the steps onto the promenade, putting her phone to her ear.

  I sat still for a minute, watching her walk away, fighting to control my temper. I wanted to shout and scream, I wanted to run to her, pick her up and fly away somewhere. But I didn’t. Fighting the turmoil within, I stood up slowly and followed her. I couldn’t help myself. I was lost in my love for the witch. She owned me, I realised, and I wanted her to do so. I worshipped her. I would happily follow her to the ends of the earth and do her bidding. She had enchanted me.

  We walked in silence for a while after she finished speaking. Eventually, Samantha looked sideways at me, trying to gauge my mood. “What shall we do now, Meredith?” she asked quietly.

  I shrugged, staring ahead, taking in the bright lights of the South Pier and the blaring noise from amusements and theme park rides. It was a part of town that I rarely visited, because it overpowered my senses and hurt my ears. I stalled, and Samantha stopped with me.

  She followed my gaze and her expression softened. “You can’t cope with the noise and the bright lights, can you?” she asked.

  I shook my head, refusing to look at her. “I would rather not venture that far,” I replied stiffly.

  “Do you need to feed?” she asked.

  “No,” I replied.

  “Well,” Samantha said, “you suggested we stay at your house tonight. Shall we go and fetch my car and my overnight things, and go home?”

  I looked at her, still battling my jealousy and rage. She saw my mood, and she purposely stepped closer, taking my hands in hers and putting them on her hips. Her expression turned seductive, her lips pouting, her body curved towards mine, and I stifled a moan of desire. She knew how to capture me.

  “That sounds like a very good idea,” I said, touching my lips to hers. “Let’s shut the world out and enjoy each other’s company.”

  We took a tram along the promenade and walked the rest of the way to Samantha’s apartment. I waited while she selected her clothes for the next day, and then we drove to my house on the North Shore, just outside of Blackpool. It was a small cottage, located on the cliff, the rear of the house looking out over the sea, and I had only been living here for a few months since my previous home was destroyed during my battle with the vampire hunter. Samantha parked on the drive and I led her inside. She ordered takeaway food for her dinner and asked again if I needed to feed.

  “I don’t want you losing control, Meredith,” she said. “I can’t deal with that right now.”

  “I will not lose control,” I replied evenly. “Do not forget, my dear, that I have been a vampire for a very long time. I have centuries of practice. And I can survive for one evening without blood. Trust me.”

  She did trust me, mostly. But she knew there was always a possibility that I would lose control, especially when we made love. If I let go of my senses, if I released my true nature, I could snap her neck and drink her dry. But I wouldn’t because I loved her, and I wanted to preserve her beauty. She still called on her magic for support, and I had to accept that. She had been trained very well by her family and her coven. She loved the challenge of being with me, I recognised.

  Later that evening, we relaxed on the sofa together, watching television. She lay in my arms, her bare legs against mine, her chest pressed against me. Her presence was a comfort and a relief. Holding her tightly, I kissed the top of her head.

  “I love you, my witch,” I murmured.

  “I love you, my vampire,” she replied.

  Chapter One

  My head bounced off the window as the mini bus rattled along the dirt track, but I kept my eyes closed, desperate to catch a few minutes of peace—and perhaps some sleep—before we arrived back. We’d been here for two weeks, and I was still acclimatising, the humid and sticky heat taking its toll on my perpetually tired and achy body.

  The swim at the hotel had been bitter sweet: the cool water had soothed and relaxed me in a way words could not describe, yet I couldn’t help but feel guilty about those we’d left behind—those who’d likely never experience anything quite so delicious.

  The whole trip had created this tug of war between my head and my heart. It was an amazing thing we were doing, but when we were thirsty, we merely strolled to the shop and paid our money to get what we needed; we slept in relative comfort and ate well, and all the while, the people of the village—little children, some of whom were orphans—they watched on in poverty.

  It was like those adverts I always shouted at from my corner of the sofa at home. You know the ones: they yank at your heartstrings as the cameras pan across the deprivation, the disease and the heartbreak; they linger on close-ups of children with pot bellies, crying in pain and with hunger. How much money does it take to make one of those adverts? Probably enough to feed the villages they’re coercing you into supporting.

  It had been a similar advert that had spurred me on to volunteer for this school build in the first place. It had made me get out there and do something that would actually help—make a difference. I needed to get my hands dirty and feel like what I was doing actually mattered.

  “Dylan, we’re here, mate.”

  My eyes flickered open at the sound of Ricky’s voice from the seat behind me. I yawned and stretched, cracking my neck and shaking my head to rid the lethargy from my brain. Reaching between my feet, I grabbed my rucksack and shoved my baseball cap backwards over my now-clean, but still unruly, auburn hair, before the mini bus pulled to a halt. I waited as Ricky, Sabrina and the others walked past my seat and then slid out to follow them off the bus and back to the building site.

  We were bombarded almost as soon as our feet hit the dusty ground, the kids crowding around Ricky and me, begging us to play football with their hand gestures and beaming smiles. I dropped my bag and grabbed the ball from Chiumbo’s hands, much to his delight, and listened to the cheering and squealing as I dribbled it around the legs of almost twelve children. Our days often ended with us playing games with the local kids, and it was welcome, lighthearted relief from the constant reminder of the harrowing conditions they lived in, day in, day out.

  Once the village became quiet, we retired to our camp each night, cooking together and chit-chatting. We’d become really close in a very short space of time, and I could genuinely say that some of the guys were my friends already.

  However, I hadn’t envisaged that spending my summer in a village in Kenya would be the start of something remarkable.

  The sound of tyres trundling down the track to the village caused my curiosity to halt work for a few seconds, and crouching down, my chest heaving from exertion, I unscrewed the lid on my bottle, tipping of fresh water into my mouth and swallowing. I watched the approaching mini bus with interest through squinted eyes, wiping the sweat from my forehead with the red and white neckerchief that remained permanently tied around my wrist.

  “Here come the troops.” Ricky leaned forwards on the handle of his shovel and I glanced at him.

  “A new team?”

  “Aye. By all accounts. They’re going to start work on the medical centre, so Sarki says.”

 
Sarki was the Kenyan boss of the project, and I’d never met a nicer, more humble man in all my life.

  “Nice.” I took another swig of water and stood, swiping my grubby, white T-shirt from where it hung from the back pocket of my shorts, rubbing my chest with it. “Where will they set up camp? Near us I expect.”

  “Aye.” Ricky was a man of few words, and he got back to work immediately, leaving me to watch on as the bus stopped and the fresh, clean and pale new-recruits began to file off with their belongings.

  I counted seven of them, one by one, as they alighted: a tall, lanky ginger bloke with a beaming smile and bright eyes; a couple of lads around my age, whom I was sure would enjoy a kick-about in the evenings; a dark-haired unit, built like the back of a bus; two young girls, who looked completely out of place; and then her.

  Her.

  I swallowed and blinked, my eyes not quite able to take in what they were seeing as she popped her head around the side of the bus to take a look around before stepping down with the others.

  “Close your mouth, Dyl.” Ricky chuckled from beside me, and I reached out, giving him a dead arm, playing down my reaction to the blonde-haired stranger who had taken my breath away for a moment.

  “Shut up and mix.” I bent over and began shovelling the cement, ignoring how my heart was thumping wildly in my chest, forcing myself to not look again—to not take a peek at her.

  It had been two years since Sally had broken my heart. She was well and truly forgotten—or at least that’s what I told everyone—and I’d been wondering if it was time for something new. However, until that morning, I hadn’t looked twice at another woman. Now, though, I wanted to look twice, three times, even four… But there was much to do, and my sense of decency outweighed my curiosity for the next couple of hours. I got my head down, bantered with the guys and tried my damned hardest to push this girl from my thoughts.

  “We’re breaking for lunch.” Sabrina sauntered over and sat on top of an oil barrel. “We’re going to welcome the new team and show them around after, if you fancy it.”

  “Of course he fancies it.” Ricky winked at me, stabbing his shovel into the ground so it stood up, and Sabrina frowned.

  “Please just ignore him.” I shoved him playfully so he stumbled and then twirled my finger by the side of my head, my eyes wide and mocking. Ricky laughed and we all headed back to camp where we prepared our food and ate like starving men, ironically.

  Not long into our break, Sarki came by, the newbies following him—now free of their rucksacks and baggage. I sat with my knees up, my arms hanging over the tops of them as I ate, and I chanced a glance around the group, careful to avoid the eyes of the one who stood out to me like a beacon of light, her hands in the back pockets of her denim cut-offs, her hair swinging from a high ponytail.

  My God, she was beautiful.

  I stared for a little too long, and she caught me looking—our eyes locking in the midday sunshine—and I nearly burst right there when the corner of her mouth lifted in an uncertain smile. I dipped my head between my shoulders, shaking it to hide an embarrassed laugh, before lifting my chin slightly and smiling back, awkwardly raising my hand to gift her a wave. Her eyes crinkled in the corners, and she rolled onto the outsides of her clunky boots, mouthing a silent ‘hi’ before looking away.

  Sarki gave a speech, introducing the guys to our team, and I held my breath to hear her name for the first time.

  “This is Willow: post grad, taking a gap year.”

  My whole team boomed an enthusiastic, ‘Hi, Willow,’ as she waved.

  But I just whispered her name, and it fell from my lips like it had been waiting there it’s whole life to be released.

  Willow.

  I didn’t go with Sabrina and the others to show the new folks around after lunch. I was commandeered by Jedd, our team leader, and helped him to repair the A-frame for the roof of the school. I mourned the chance to spend more time in her presence but found my moment later in the afternoon.

  The medical centre was being built in the middle of the village which was barely visible from where we were working, but if I went to the shop the long way around, I was able to walk right past it.

  And of course, I did.

  I only went once that first day. I took some money and bought bottles of Sprite for Ricky and me.

  As I sauntered past, I caught a glimpse of her as she listened to the instructions from their team leader. She was angled away from me, her hands back in her pockets, her loose, white blouse billowing in the gentle breeze, and I longed for her to turn her face, just for a moment.

  I reached the bend in the road and tried my luck one last time, glancing back over my shoulder.

  And she turned.

  Her hand shielding her eyes from the blinding sun, she looked directly at me like she knew where she’d find me—like she’d been waiting for me to get to that exact spot. This time, I didn’t look away. This time I wasn’t embarrassed to be caught. This time I stopped, and I leaned forwards, resting my folded arms on top of the fence, and I watched. I drank her in from afar, and she continued to look straight at me. It was the most intimate moment of my entire life. My body hummed with an electric current that I could have sworn was connected to the intense way her green eyes wouldn’t let me go—the way they had sought me out effortlessly, and how they seemed to see every thought I was having.

  We remained locked together for what seemed like a lifetime, until someone tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a shovel. Her eyes dropped and she didn’t look again.

  That night, I sat cross-legged in the mouth of my tent, ate my food and got to know her from a distance as the two groups settled into friendly banter around the campfire. Resting her chin on her knees that were pulled tightly to her chest, she soaked up the conversation, smiling at Rosie’s jokes and listening intently to Nathan’s stories. Her eyes darted everywhere: seeing everything, missing nothing.

  She said very little.

  And I watched her.

  I barely took my eyes off her, and periodically, when everyone’s attention was elsewhere, she watched me, too, the hint of a smile playing on her lips as the flames danced in her eyes. My body burned under her gentle scrutiny, and when the fire died down and people slunk off to bed, it was just me and her left—looking, watching.

  I picked at the grass in front of me, dropping my gaze to my fingers to buy some time before I spoke. The first words were hard to choose, and I didn’t want to mess them up. I cleared my throat as silently as I could, but by the time I lifted my eyes back to hers, she had got to her feet and was standing above the embers, the glow from them lighting up her whole face.

  Shoving her hands deep into her front pockets, she bit down on her bottom lip, a simple action that had me groaning internally. Her voice was unexpected but just as gentle and calm as she appeared to be. “Goodnight, Dylan.”

  I wasn’t fast enough to reply, taken completely by surprise, and by the time my response had formed in my brain, she had turned on her heel and was walking into the black of the night towards her tent.

  “Shit.” The only word I could muster slipped out on a hiss as I threw the grass I’d been picking into the dying fire. I stared ahead, my back teeth gritting hard in annoyance.

  I listened to the chirp of crickets and the soft moans and pants of ecstasy coming from Ricky and Sabrina’s tent before crawling into my own.

  Laying back, I folded my hands behind my head, replaying the day that had been filled with her. I closed my eyes and soon drifted into a fitful sleep that had me waking in the middle of the night, cold and desperate for a piss.

  I shoved a hoodie over my head and peeked out of the entrance of my tent where the inky blackness had engulfed everything that had been in sight just hours before. Shivering, I scrambled blindly out into the night, slipping my feet into my boots before standing and navigating my way in the dark. I released whispered profanities as I tripped and stumbled over the guide ropes of a tent towards the bac
k of the camp. In my desperate attempt to relieve the pain in my bladder, I’d neglected to check for my torch in my pocket, and finding it not there, I cursed some more. However, it was only a short walk to the clearing near the man-made well once I’d battled the tents, and after finding a spot, I unfastened my fly and tipped my head back to stare at the sky.

  It was a spectacular sight, one I was sure I’d never tire of. Being in the middle of an underdeveloped country—not a factory, nor a house, nor street lamps to speak of—the clarity of the firmament was breathtaking. Constellations I’d never seen before I arrived here twinkled above me, the patterns in the Southern Hemisphere so different from those back home.

  I lost myself for those few moments, until the sound of something coming towards me had me finishing quickly and stuffing myself back into my pants, my heart beating wildly as I attempted to regain my bearings and decide which direction I was going to start walking in to get back to my tent. It was a quiet rustle, footsteps of some description perhaps, and after the mild panic had subsided, I stood quietly to see who might materialise.

  The fact I could barely see three feet in front of me meant I was relying heavily on my other senses: my hearing, my touch and my sense of smell.

  And weirdly, I felt her first.

  Willow.

  How I knew it was her I don’t know, but I felt it deeply and unequivocally. Something within me whispered her name over and over before I saw her torchlight making a trail along the ground in front of her. I held still so as not to frighten her, but when she neared the well, the light caught my boots and she stopped dead.

  “Hello?” Her voice was unsteady, unsure, but hell fire it was the sweetest sound. I wasn’t going to mess it up this time and searched for my words quickly.

  “It’s me.”

  Goddamnit, Dylan.