Page 10
Story: Vampire's Hearth
“I insist. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your tour.” I turned on my heel before he could reply and retraced my steps.
When I returned to the Cathedral, the woman was nowhere to be found, confirming my suspicions. We had left less than five minutes prior. It would have been a miraculous recovery had she been fine. What was she here for? And why was I so drawn to her?
Concern grew in my throat as I replayed the interaction before she stayed. She had reacted to the story about my family, yet there was no reason for anyone to believe a story on a ghost tour.
I walked over to the bench where she had rested and inhaled deeply. It was easy to scent her with her sensual perfume of rosewater and oranges. I hurried across the chamber to the tunnel David had pointed out—the one I intended to travel without her. Sure enough, her fragrance graced the pitch-black opening.
The darkness was no issue for my capabilities as I hurried down the hallway. I thought back one hundred and fifty years to when my brothers and I had last been here. Declan had just joined our family, my brother Aiden begging my father to allow us to turn him. Turning a human was never something my family did lightly even though we had benefited immensely from our vampiric gifts—at least until a hundred years ago. Loneliness radiated through my core as my other brothers’ faces, Lorcan and Conall, came to mind. I shook the memories away, but one remained.
Lorcan, Conall, and I had challenged Aiden and Declan to a ludicrous game of hide-and-seek. As a baby vampire, Declan was just learning how to use his abilities. The cave was an exciting place to train him because of the number of obstacles and lack of sunlight. At the end of that game, Declan found my two brothers and me waiting in the room I was headed to now. His reward was a beautiful blond woman compelled to sit silently and without fear. As the winner, Declan imbibed in her delectable blood first. Afterward, we each took turns sipping on the sweet, life-giving nectar. We guided her from the cave but not before my father found us.
He was angrier than I had seen him in quite some time. He reminded us that this one chamber, an unmistakable dead end, had become sacred ground to our family. It was to be respected like we respected our family home in Ireland—Dún Na Farraige. We were never told why, simply that it held great power. Why had it become sacred? And why had my parents never told me, their eldest son? I vowed to find out, but first, I had to find the woman.
I was pulled from the thoughts in my head when, in the distance, I heard the scraping of small stones followed by a terrified scream. David had accurately described the way ahead as treacherous and unsafe. From the broad path I was on, it narrowed before turning into a steep hill. At the bottom was a twenty-five-foot drop onto the stones below. The plunge was nothing for a vampire, but for humans, it was quite dangerous. I ran toward the scream, stopping just short of the ledge.
I teetered on the edge of the precipice. If I turned back now, it would be days until anyone found her. I drew in the air through my nose. There wasn’t a hint of fear, just the natural bouquet of rose water and oranges her blood gave off, which caused a tingle in my gums. I could drain her and make it look as though the fall killed her. I shook the thought from my head as I peered over.
As I feared, the woman lay in the chamber below, incapacitated. I jumped down, landing like a feather beside her. Next to her lay a small flashlight, not nearly enough for caves such as this. No wonder she hadn’t seen the cliff. The unconscious woman’s weakened pulse reached my ears as I noticed her leg bent at an odd angle. Her backpack had saved her, pulling her onto her back and cushioning her head as she hit the ground. I looked at the side of the bag and found a bottle of water, which I used to wet my hands and massage her pulse points.
When my hands touched her skin, a soft moan slipped from her lips. Relief surged through me, but it tangled with a gnawing unease that refused to let go. I was too drawn to her—an unfamiliar ache spread in my chest. Why did she matter so much? I should be focused on finding whatever the ailm on Isla’s map marked in this cavern, not the gentle rise and fall of this woman’s breath or the curve of her lashes against her cheek.
Aurora
Someone’s hands alternated between massaging my neck and my wrists. The soft and gentle—comforting—strokes brought me back to consciousness. As I felt myself reconnect to my center, my power, the hands started to feel cold—almost like death. My eyes flew open with a start, and I attempted to sit.
My backpack held me back as I struggled in the dark.
“Calm down. You’re safe,” said a voice.
It was the voice of a lover from my dreams, the same one used when urging me to trust him and give in to my desires. Immediately, my mind settled. It didn’t make sense; I shouldn’t be calm. My finger burned under my ruby ring as a sense of doom constricted my insides.
“Don’t struggle. No one is going to hurt you.” My heartbeat slowed as the voice calmed me a second time. Immediately, the burning rose in my finger, and my throat tightened as anxious tears crept to my eyes.
The roller coaster of emotions needed to stop.
The hands moved to my shoulders and gently held me down, wordlessly asking me to stay still out of concern for my safety, not malice—like this man knew what my physical body needed. “You need to rest. You had a fall.”
This time, the words did not evoke calming sensations. Thank the goddess because I didn’t think I could handle that again. The voice was still soft, but its magical effect on my emotions dissipated. All that remained was the dreamlike connection.
“What happened?” I asked. My voice cracked as I forced words through my dry throat. The last thing I remembered was a steep hill. The stones covering it had given way. I expected to fall on my ass, so how did I end up on my back, passed out?
“You fell. The path you were on led to a twenty-five-foot drop you tumbled over.”
“No wonder I feel like a truck hit me,” I said with a weak smile. Even though my eyes were open, everything was nearly black. I struggled against the straps of my bag. “I can’t get out of this damn thing.”
The gentle concern in the man’s words carried an unexpected tenderness. “That damn thing likely saved your life. It stopped you from hitting your head too badly.”
“Ugh.” I looked to my right, where my flashlight shone across the small stone room, showing about a ten-by-ten cavern. The faint beam struggled to reach the brown rock on the other side of the cavern. In the center of the room, four columns of grayish-white stone rose from the floor to the ceiling, guarding a tabletop rock in the center.
“Let me help you.” The man lifted a strap away from my shoulder and reached through to guide my wrist. My blood rushed to my face as his fingers encircled my wrist softly, causing my heart to flutter. If only I could see his face. Who was helping me? Were those the hands that felt like death earlier, and why didn’t they now? I certainly had more questions than answers.
“So this is it?” I asked, shining the flashlight around the room, struggling not to shine it into my rescuer’s eyes. I took a deep breath, the butterflies in my stomach refusing to calm down. I wanted to feel the man’s touch again but also dreaded the thought. Did I dare find out who the voice belonged to?
“I’m not quite sure,” said the man as he crouched beside me. His voice was tight like he was hiding something.
“Then let’s try another question.” I shined the light near his face to recognize the latecomer. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”
“Your rescuer,” he said with a slight Irish lilt that made my heart flutter like his hands had. A memory of the echoes of death in his touch struggled meekly to the surface before I brushed it away.
When I returned to the Cathedral, the woman was nowhere to be found, confirming my suspicions. We had left less than five minutes prior. It would have been a miraculous recovery had she been fine. What was she here for? And why was I so drawn to her?
Concern grew in my throat as I replayed the interaction before she stayed. She had reacted to the story about my family, yet there was no reason for anyone to believe a story on a ghost tour.
I walked over to the bench where she had rested and inhaled deeply. It was easy to scent her with her sensual perfume of rosewater and oranges. I hurried across the chamber to the tunnel David had pointed out—the one I intended to travel without her. Sure enough, her fragrance graced the pitch-black opening.
The darkness was no issue for my capabilities as I hurried down the hallway. I thought back one hundred and fifty years to when my brothers and I had last been here. Declan had just joined our family, my brother Aiden begging my father to allow us to turn him. Turning a human was never something my family did lightly even though we had benefited immensely from our vampiric gifts—at least until a hundred years ago. Loneliness radiated through my core as my other brothers’ faces, Lorcan and Conall, came to mind. I shook the memories away, but one remained.
Lorcan, Conall, and I had challenged Aiden and Declan to a ludicrous game of hide-and-seek. As a baby vampire, Declan was just learning how to use his abilities. The cave was an exciting place to train him because of the number of obstacles and lack of sunlight. At the end of that game, Declan found my two brothers and me waiting in the room I was headed to now. His reward was a beautiful blond woman compelled to sit silently and without fear. As the winner, Declan imbibed in her delectable blood first. Afterward, we each took turns sipping on the sweet, life-giving nectar. We guided her from the cave but not before my father found us.
He was angrier than I had seen him in quite some time. He reminded us that this one chamber, an unmistakable dead end, had become sacred ground to our family. It was to be respected like we respected our family home in Ireland—Dún Na Farraige. We were never told why, simply that it held great power. Why had it become sacred? And why had my parents never told me, their eldest son? I vowed to find out, but first, I had to find the woman.
I was pulled from the thoughts in my head when, in the distance, I heard the scraping of small stones followed by a terrified scream. David had accurately described the way ahead as treacherous and unsafe. From the broad path I was on, it narrowed before turning into a steep hill. At the bottom was a twenty-five-foot drop onto the stones below. The plunge was nothing for a vampire, but for humans, it was quite dangerous. I ran toward the scream, stopping just short of the ledge.
I teetered on the edge of the precipice. If I turned back now, it would be days until anyone found her. I drew in the air through my nose. There wasn’t a hint of fear, just the natural bouquet of rose water and oranges her blood gave off, which caused a tingle in my gums. I could drain her and make it look as though the fall killed her. I shook the thought from my head as I peered over.
As I feared, the woman lay in the chamber below, incapacitated. I jumped down, landing like a feather beside her. Next to her lay a small flashlight, not nearly enough for caves such as this. No wonder she hadn’t seen the cliff. The unconscious woman’s weakened pulse reached my ears as I noticed her leg bent at an odd angle. Her backpack had saved her, pulling her onto her back and cushioning her head as she hit the ground. I looked at the side of the bag and found a bottle of water, which I used to wet my hands and massage her pulse points.
When my hands touched her skin, a soft moan slipped from her lips. Relief surged through me, but it tangled with a gnawing unease that refused to let go. I was too drawn to her—an unfamiliar ache spread in my chest. Why did she matter so much? I should be focused on finding whatever the ailm on Isla’s map marked in this cavern, not the gentle rise and fall of this woman’s breath or the curve of her lashes against her cheek.
Aurora
Someone’s hands alternated between massaging my neck and my wrists. The soft and gentle—comforting—strokes brought me back to consciousness. As I felt myself reconnect to my center, my power, the hands started to feel cold—almost like death. My eyes flew open with a start, and I attempted to sit.
My backpack held me back as I struggled in the dark.
“Calm down. You’re safe,” said a voice.
It was the voice of a lover from my dreams, the same one used when urging me to trust him and give in to my desires. Immediately, my mind settled. It didn’t make sense; I shouldn’t be calm. My finger burned under my ruby ring as a sense of doom constricted my insides.
“Don’t struggle. No one is going to hurt you.” My heartbeat slowed as the voice calmed me a second time. Immediately, the burning rose in my finger, and my throat tightened as anxious tears crept to my eyes.
The roller coaster of emotions needed to stop.
The hands moved to my shoulders and gently held me down, wordlessly asking me to stay still out of concern for my safety, not malice—like this man knew what my physical body needed. “You need to rest. You had a fall.”
This time, the words did not evoke calming sensations. Thank the goddess because I didn’t think I could handle that again. The voice was still soft, but its magical effect on my emotions dissipated. All that remained was the dreamlike connection.
“What happened?” I asked. My voice cracked as I forced words through my dry throat. The last thing I remembered was a steep hill. The stones covering it had given way. I expected to fall on my ass, so how did I end up on my back, passed out?
“You fell. The path you were on led to a twenty-five-foot drop you tumbled over.”
“No wonder I feel like a truck hit me,” I said with a weak smile. Even though my eyes were open, everything was nearly black. I struggled against the straps of my bag. “I can’t get out of this damn thing.”
The gentle concern in the man’s words carried an unexpected tenderness. “That damn thing likely saved your life. It stopped you from hitting your head too badly.”
“Ugh.” I looked to my right, where my flashlight shone across the small stone room, showing about a ten-by-ten cavern. The faint beam struggled to reach the brown rock on the other side of the cavern. In the center of the room, four columns of grayish-white stone rose from the floor to the ceiling, guarding a tabletop rock in the center.
“Let me help you.” The man lifted a strap away from my shoulder and reached through to guide my wrist. My blood rushed to my face as his fingers encircled my wrist softly, causing my heart to flutter. If only I could see his face. Who was helping me? Were those the hands that felt like death earlier, and why didn’t they now? I certainly had more questions than answers.
“So this is it?” I asked, shining the flashlight around the room, struggling not to shine it into my rescuer’s eyes. I took a deep breath, the butterflies in my stomach refusing to calm down. I wanted to feel the man’s touch again but also dreaded the thought. Did I dare find out who the voice belonged to?
“I’m not quite sure,” said the man as he crouched beside me. His voice was tight like he was hiding something.
“Then let’s try another question.” I shined the light near his face to recognize the latecomer. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”
“Your rescuer,” he said with a slight Irish lilt that made my heart flutter like his hands had. A memory of the echoes of death in his touch struggled meekly to the surface before I brushed it away.
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