The Stirrings Of A Cold Heart Ch 09

The next day the sun shone brightly despite the bitter cold. Aidan found herself strangely drawn to it and staring out the windows as often as she could. By afternoon a sense of foreboding washed over her and she felt compelled to go to church and confession. Once there she told the priest about her visit to Minsden Chapel and even about the strange smoke that had visited her (although she would only refer to it as 'impure thoughts'). The priest gave her the prescribed penance then she left the confessional and knelt down before the altar to pray. After a few moments she sat down in the first pew and looked up at the face of the Virgin Mary in silent contemplation. She had never really looked at it before and somehow she felt as though she would never see it again.

In the same church sat Alex Mabon. He always started his evenings in church, deep in prayer. He had noticed Aidan when she left the confessional. More importantly he had noticed a mark upon her forehead, a mark he had only ever read about. Neither mortals, nor the undead could ever see these marks, but he could because of his mixed blood. It appeared as a small red smear of blood and was tangible evidence that her soul was linked to a vampire's. To have such bonding occur was beyond rare. He had only read of one or two instances of this occurring in endless millennia of documentation. In those cases the imprinting had occurred between two nosferatu. This woman was still human! Quietly he rose and walked over and sat next to Aidan.

"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For He has regarded the lowly state of His maidservant; For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed. For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with His arm; He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty. He has helped His servant Israel, In remembrance of His mercy," Alex recited, looking up at the same serene holy face that Aidan did. She turned and looked at the hunter, unsure if he was speaking to her or to himself. "I saw you looking up at our Mother of Divine Grace with so much wonder that I felt I had to come over here." Hearing this, Aidan wasn't sure what to make of this man, or his intentions.

"Of course," she answered, moving slightly over so there would be more space between them. "All are welcome in the church."

"Do you put your faith in God?"

"Perhaps not the way Mary did, but I believe in him, yes."

"Good," Alex smiled, gratified to hear that. "You are far too beautiful a woman to be led down the path of darkness."

"I don't know what you are talking about." She shifted in her seat uncomfortably wondering whether or not he had overheard her confessions.

"Forgive me, I mean no harm, miss. The truth is, I saw how you looked at the statue of Mary and I couldn't help noticing that you seemed troubled. I thought you might want someone to talk to."

"Perhaps there are some things weighing on my mind, but you needn't concern yourself with them," Aidan assured him as she started to get up, but he gently laid his hand on her shoulder keeping her in her seat.

"Please, I would be glad to help," he offered with a kind smile. "I imagine it has to do with a suitor." At this she smiled and blushed slightly. "I knew it. With pretty young women the problem is always a suitor," the hunter gave a slight laugh.

"I suppose you are not wrong. I really don't know what I should do," she began, nervously fidgeting with the rosary in her hand. "There is a man in my life who is nothing more than a dark cloud hanging over everything. No matter what I do or or how I try to get away he is there constantly tormenting me." Aidan of course was referring to Emile Claudel, but was careful not to mention his name. To the hunter this sounded exactly like a vampire. "There is also another man," here she hesitated. It was so hard to explain what she felt for Erik Ambrose. She had known him only a short while, but seemed so much longer. "I think he has been abused by the world and it's made him cold and bitter towards it, but with me he is so gentle and kind. When he's around the dark clouds are pushed aside and I feel safe and wanted." She looked at Alex then bravely added, "Loved."

The hunter had no idea who either of these gentlemen were, but he was certain she needed to follow whichever would protect her soul and save her from becoming a vampire. To him the choice was simple. Evil cannot thrive where there is love and darkness cannot extinguish the light. The second man she described was clearly the light

"The second man you spoke of, does he love you and respect you?" At this question Aidan looked back up at the statue and thought about it for a few moments.

"I-I believe he does," she stammered before blushing again.

"Then go to him. If it is the will of God then the two of you will find a way, whatever else may happen," he assured her with a smile.

"Do you think so?"

"Yes."

Instantly Aidan Cathal leapt to her feet and took off down the aisle, turning back once to give a hasty 'thank you' to the old hunter. Alex smiled and waved, believing that he had helped the girl escape the trap of the vampire, but the dark clouds of her life had not lifted yet. Emile had spent the day holed away in his room, his mind gripped in fear and paranoia. His memory playing two different conversations over and over in his mind. Erik Ambrose had known everything about him . . . things he had been very careful to keep from the light of day. He still wanted Aidan's fortune, but desperately feared his rival's exposure. His mind then would replay the brief conversation he had had with the stranger in the tavern. Sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.

Laying open on his bed was a new gun presentation case of fine walnut. Tucked inside were the brass ramrod, a bullet mold, and a brass and copper flask with black powder inside. He also had a pouch of balls ready for firing. The solid wood stock felt good in his hand and Emile rotated between cleaning his new flintlock pistol and taking aim at the wall and firing the unloaded weapon. The click of the flint against the empty pan gave him courage. Yes, he could shoot the bastard and keep the demon from infesting his family and destroying everything. If questioned by the police he will simply give the greatest performance of his life. Who would doubt a loving fiancé protecting his bride-to-be from a foreign con artist?

He was so focused on his plans to rid himself of Erik Ambrose that when servants brought trays of food to his room, he dismissed them without a bite. He refused sleep since every time he closed his eyes he saw those same red, threatening eyes watching him. When Aidan came to remind him that it was time to go to the theater, he told her that he was ill and that his understudy would need to perform. When he was sure she was gone he packed his pistol into its case and began to walk to the theater.

Aidan gave her finest performance that night in hopes that Erik was there watching her, but she had not seen him in his usual box and there were no flowers in her dressing room. Disappointed she sat down before her mirror and began to remove the stage make-up and wig. Suddenly a small chiming noise met her ears. The noise seemed to be coming from a small trinket box on her table. She opened it and found the pocket watch she had been given as a child. She could recall receiving it about the time her mother died but could not recall who had given it to her. She kept it as a good luck piece even though it was broken. Strange that it would suddenly be chiming after all this time. She finished removing her make-up and was beginning to brush out her hair when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

The door opened and a stage hand stepped in with a large bouquet of roses. She smiled brightly as she was given an envelope. The stage hand left as she sat down and began to read:

'I can still smell your perfume as thoughts of you play over and over in my mind. No one has ever looked at me the way that you have. You have flattered me with your attention and allowed me to be part of a world that I have seldom known. I find myself at a precipice where I must either betray my better self or do what is right and leave. Though I am deeply fond of you I am unable to offer you anything more than friendship. Please believe me when I say you are a worthy companion for any man. This difficulty is with me. I am not what you believe me to be. There is darkness in this world that few know and I fear that if I stay it will consume you too. I only want what is best for you and that is the chance to marry and have a family of your own. As long as I am around you there is a danger of that not happening. I hope this will not hurt you too much.'

The letter was signed by Erik. Aidan sat there in shock and confusion. What had he meant when he said he was not what she thought he was? What sort of danger could she have been in? He had never been anything but attentive to her. The thought of never seeing him again and once more being left to Emile filled her with despair and her tears began to flow freely as she stood and changed her clothes. As soon as her back was turned the large mirror that hung over her make-up table crashed to the floor in a thousand pieces. The loud sound startled her so that she gave a sharp cry. Instantly a stage hand was in the room to see what the matter was.

"It's nothing. The mirror just came off the wall by itself and broke. It just startled me." At these words the man's face blanched and his eyes got wide.

"A mirror that falls and breaks on its own is a sign of death."

"That's rubbish. It was only an accident. Please get a broom so we can get this cleaned up."

When the shards of glass were cleaned up, Aidan finished changing then sat alone in her dressing room. She couldn't shake this strange cold feeling that seemed to fill the room. The chimes of the broken pocket watch and the mirror crashing down were certainly strange and both were omens of death. Her eyes suddenly focused on a candle that sat on her dressing table. The flame was strong, bright, and absolutely still. She could see all the dazzling yellows and oranges and a hint of blue touching the wick. There were no drafts, no breezes, yet inexplicably the candle went out. In that instant a fear went through Aidan and she quickly grabbed her bonnet and coat and hurried from the room. She would feel safe and secure as soon as she was home she told herself.

Emerging from the wings she looked up and saw Erik Ambrose in the shadows on the opposite side. Immediately she called out to him and started toward him, but half way across the stage he was suddenly before her and holding her by the shoulders

"I read your letter. Please tell me you're not really leaving."

"I must."

"Have I done something to offend you? I know I am a forward girl but if I did anything. . ."

"No, no nothing like that." He looked in her eyes and could see tears beginning to well up.

"Has Emile said something to you? Did Patrice ask you to leave when she spoke to you last night?"

"Patrice has only looked out for your welfare. Please don't cry Aidan." Why couldn't she see what he was? His soul was black and his heart dead . . . unmoving. He had murdered and had gloried in the blood of his victims, yet this innocent, pure young woman saw him as a lover, her champion. "Your friend Emile told you the truth . . . I am not what you think I am."

"You are Erik Ambrose, a man who has traveled the world and whatever tragedy you may have experienced in your past doesn't matter," she answered defiantly, as if unwilling to believe anything else. The vampire now found himself in a very precarious situation. He would either have to tell her the truth about himself or erase her memory of him altogether. If he told her he was a vampire, she would fear him, hate him. If she forgot him then she would be able to live her life happily without the pain of a broken heart. This would be the best course of action, but he also knew he would not be able to come back until she had passed away. Before he would hypnotize her he decided he would have one last token from her and pulled her into his arms as though he were afraid she would vanish.

"I must have you," he whispered this into her hair so softly that she didn't hear it. A hint of hunger appeared in his eyes, but he fought back his desires. "Damn it all." He kissed her warm, sweet lips fervently.

Emile wandered through the theater looking for Erik. He knew that this suitor was always there waiting to catch a glimpse of Aidan or take her out with him. No reason to think he would miss tonight. As he moved through the curtains hanging in wings to the right of the stage, he found the pair still holding each other. Erik's body covered all but Aidan's head so he was confident that he would not miss his target. Without thinking he lifted his pistol which was already in the half-cocked position with the powder in the pan and the frizzen in place over the pan then he put it in the fully cocked position. Slowly he pulled the trigger. The gun fired with a loud blast causing his ears to start ringing and momentarily blinding him with a big puff of smoke. The result of this act was not what Emile had expected.

For the rest of his days, Emile would always wonder what had gone wrong that night. Was it his lack of experience with a firearm? Had it been his fatigue, jealousy or paranoia? Whatever the reason, instead of a man's yell he heard the shriek of a woman and he knew it was Aidan. How could he have missed? Aidan had been completely covered by Erik Ambrose so there was no way he could have hit her. Yet, when the smoke cleared he saw his rival on his knees holding Aidan as blood began to soak through the pink muslin gown she wore.

"You missed. I'm afraid bullets only pass through my kind," the vampire growled looking up at Emile, his eyes flaming red with anger. He set Aidan gently on the stage then in the blink of an eye he was standing before the tenor. He grabbed the pistol from Emile's hand and tossed it away.

"I didn't mean to . . . it was an accident . . . I . . . I was aiming for you." With a swift motion the vampire struck Emile across the face bringing him to his knees.

"You were wrong." The vampire's fangs were fully extended. "Your life is forfeit." Erik opened his mouth ready to take Emile's precious blood as payment, but a soft moan from Aidan caught his attention and he immediately released his captive and went to her.

Emile wasted no time escaping and soon found himself outside the building without remembering how he had escaped. Fear consumed him. He was afraid of that creature and the consequences of what he had done. Too horrified for his mind to fully process what had happened, he ran down the street. He didn't know where he was going, only that he was getting away from that creature, and his crime. Somehow the miles would make everything right.