Chapter 25

Staring up into the heavens, Heidi spent the night on the Steven's apartment rooftop, lying comfortably in the snow as she listened to his faint wails—gentle sobs that his neighbors could not hear through the cheap, thin walls. Heidi easily sensed something different this night as his particular sounds of grief carried a different empathy than before.

Heidi had long ago dismissed the human's petty concerns, but this one human had gotten under her skin. A few months prior, she would have barged into his apartment and demanded to know what had upset him. She now chose to be careful, to be patient, her reasoning being that she had worked too hard—more importantly, spent too much time in Fargo—to let this potential weapon slip away.

At the first hint of sunrise, the vampire took heed of the weather as the cloudless sky and lack of blowing snow meant she would soon have to move to the shadows if she intended to keep observing this man throughout the day. Dropping silently from the apartment rooftop into the snow, Heidi returned to her own apartment for more appropriate attire.

She first showered—an unnecessary task for a vampire if not for the occasional blood spillage; however, she found her time under the water relaxing as to prepare her mind in the event of needing to act quickly, mortally.

She then picked clothes that would allow safe movement throughout the day: a high-collared jacket and wide brimmed hat. Consciously, she slowed her movements to that of a normal human's pace as she exited her apartment—a simple task of self-control made more difficult after nearly arriving too late to the river just the day before.

At a safe distance, she parked her sports car in a location that allowed her keen vampire vision to spy Steven's apartment window. Tossing her sun hat onto the passenger seat, she settled in for a long day of surveillance.

Heidi waited…and waited…and waited some more without seeing any activity through Steven's window. She began to worry that the man had overdosed on his medicine while she had gone to shower and change when she finally spotted Steven rising from his couch only to move out of sight towards his bookshelf. Within seconds, he reappeared in the window, only to return to his spot on the couch. The observation distance too far to see more, Heidi continued waiting only to witness Steven repeat the same procedure shortly after lunch. When Steven's next movement from the couch occurred around dinner, her frustration with this infernal 'babysitting mission' nearly reached its apex as she began to rudely text Jane, who she thought had not done enough to ease her torment—considering it was her idea I the first place!

Heidi then considered turning him against his will to be done with it. She also considered that a vindictive Steven might side against the Volturi; and if he escaped, the masters would no doubt blame her. She considered the risk of a newborn vampire like Steven: how he would be stronger than her; and if remained immune to her gift, he would most likely escape, perhaps even expose their existence.

To release some stress, Heidi typed another long, profanity-laced text to Jane. And despite summoning up many forgotten profanities from the extinct languages she could remember, the colorful text gave no satisfaction.

When Steven rose to move out of sight towards his bookshelf for a fourth time, Heidi facial muscles began to tighten. She reasoned, There are plenty of wildling vampires already. They'll expose us anyway, so one more wildling won't matter. With the growing urge to kill someone, anything, Heidi's teeth ground loudly together before she spat out the words, "Times up!"

Heidi moved her car the short distance into the apartment complex's parking lot. She decided to invite the annoying human for a car ride, at which time she would drive him to a remote section of forest or boarded up summer lake cabin, any location where his conversion would be undisturbed, a place where his screams would go unnoticed until the silent, paralyzing portion of his ascension silenced him.

Summoning the remaining remnants of her self-control, Heidi paused outside Steven's apartment door and knocked calmly, like a human.

Steven called softly from his couch, "Come in."

As she flung open the door, Heidi thought, You lazy, little, shi—

Steven looked over his shoulder to reveal mournful eyes surrounded by deep shadows. His face was unshaven with unwashed hair resembling that of a neglected dog.

Heidi froze as her hand firmly gripped the handle of the open door. Her anger evaporated as quickly as she had entered the apartment. She watched with consternation as the man turned away, appearing ashamed before sinking into his couch with a clutched pillow on his lap.

She had been ordered to befriend this young man, realizing now that she had failed. As she gently closed the door to the apartment, she recalled her long lost friend from the Second World War from fifty years ago. She may not have seen the same vampire potential in Steven that Jane suspected, but she sensed something special that made her concerned.

Stepping slowly around the couch, she surveyed the room to find the television off as classical music played softly from his computer desk speakers. On the top of the bookshelf, Heidi discovered a single goldfish in a round bowl. "That's new."

Steven's eyes shifted briefly to the goldfish. "That's Joan. She belonged to a little girl across the hall. Her and her mother just moved across the country for a new job. The little girl asked me to take care of it."

"Is that what you were doing all day, feeding it?"

Steven looked up at Heidi with a confused expression.

"Yes," began Heidi with a shrug, "I was spying on you. I promised the Volturi to keep you safe. I'm not your enemy."

Steven turned on the couch to look out his sole living room window. Realizing that the distance was significant, he turned back to Heidi, "Do you need binoculars?"

"No."

Steven gestured the woman to sit. "So your eyes become enhanced like your hearing."

"Yes," replied Heidi as she gingerly sat on the opposite end of the couch.

With a simple "huh", Steven turned his blood shot eyes up to the goldfish bowl.

"Do you like the fish?"

"No," replied Steven without breaking his gaze. "It's a nuisance."

"Then get rid of it; flush it."

Steven shook his head as he turned to Heidi. "I won't kill the fish, never."

Heidi's brow knitted with confusion. "Why?"

"I will not give up on the fish," replied Steven, his voice straining until it became a barely audible whisper, "because I don't want God to give up on me."

A few months prior, Heidi would have found this mortal's concerns irritating. After being forced to observe Steven, she now found his eccentricities intriguing. She reclined into the couch and began listening to his heart, waiting for it to slow, for his emotional state to stable. After several minutes, she felt the time right to ask, "What made you cry last night?"

Steven turned to her again with a dumbfounded look.

"I was on the roof," continued Heidi. "Your muffled wails sounded mournful, as if someone had died."

"Someone did," replied Steven. "Me...in my dream."

"What hap—" Heidi interrupted herself and more politely asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"I don't mind," said Steven. "You can ask me anything."

"As you can with me."

A hint of color returned to Steven's cheeks as he collected his thoughts. He adjusted his sitting position on the couch by straightening his posture, and with a deep breath, he began to confide in Heidi, "I experienced the most vivid dream in all my life. I knew it was a dream from the beginning, but when a stranger hiding in the darkness said that it was time to die, I suddenly forgot it was a dream. Some man, who I never did see, chased me out of my childhood home, across a couple back yards of our neighbors, and killed me with a thrown knife to the back. Well, I think it was a knife."

With genuine concern, Heidi commented, "It must have been terrifying for you."

Steven shrugged as he stared aimlessly at the coffee table before him. "Yes...and no. The odd thing is that my death felt real. It felt as real to me as sitting next to you right now. You see..." Steven swallowed hard as he tried to continue. After a couple failed attempts to speak, he shook his head. "You'll just laugh."

"I won't." Heidi's hand flinched, resisting the urge to reach out to the man clutching his pillow. "I promise."

Steven slowly turned towards her. "My death felt so natural and blissful. I felt...," Steven's eyes flitted away, "…loved. It felt as if I was returning home, but not to my childhood home, to some special place in the universe."

Heidi knew not how to respond and began biting her lip.

"I died happily in my dream," continued Steven, "at which point I calmly awoke. When I realized that I was safe and warm in my bed, I began to cry. I wanted to return to that secret place. I wanted to feel that elation death gave me." Steven clasped his pillow tighter as his head bowed forward. "It's impossible to truly describe what I felt: love...relief...homecoming. I don't know. It's probably a trick that my brain played on me. All I know is that it was true bliss."

Heidi said the only thing she could, "I'm sorry." When Steven looked up at her, the vampire confessed, "I haven't slept in centuries, so I cannot even comprehend a simple dream anymore. But it sounds as if the experience gave you some sort of epiphany."

"Maybe." After a long pause, as the faint sounds of doors opening and closing in the apartment complex became noticeable, he asked, "You never dream?"

"No. We sometimes meditate to organize our thoughts in order to remember important events. Sometimes we meditate to forget certain memories. Our brain neurons regenerate easily in our conscious state, forgoing the need to sleep, to dream. I told you this before. Remember?"

"You did?"

"Yes, over tea.

Steven rubbed his eyes. "That's right. I knew this."

Heidi forced a smile. "You're exhausted."

"I'm more than exhausted." Steven rubbed his face with both hands before asking, "Do you miss sleep?"

"No." Heidi gazed up briefly at the fish, a fellow creature who also experience periods of quiescence in lieu of sleep. "Parts of me are the same as my old human self, and parts of me changed when I was turned into a vampire. I adjusted to my change, just as most creatures in nature do, like the butterfly for example. I've accepted who I've become."

Steven frowned. "Are you saying that I'd adjust?"

"I wasn't trying to sell you into becoming like me. I was just sharing my experience."

Steven nodded. "I know. I do appreciate your honesty."

"I'm not one for lying."

"I know."

"So if you have more questions, ask away," said Heidi as she folded her hands in her lap.

Steven inhaled deeply as he struggled with a thought.

"What?" asked Heidi, sensing that the introvert had a question of a personal nature.

"Will you go to bed with me?" Steven's eyes flitted away, fearful of the response.

Again, surprised by this mortal man, Heidi waited, unsure of Steven's true intention. She simply gazed back at him with a faint smile.

"I can't believe that I'm saying this," began Steven, "but I don't want to have sex. You see, I simply would like you there next to me—rather than on the roof. I need to feel your presence next to me, that's it." Steven clasped his fidgeting hands together. "More than I want to admit, I enjoy hearing your historic stories, your adventures. I used to fear your presence, but now...I don't know, it comforts me."

Rising slowly from the couch, Heidi offered her hand to Steven. When he accepted it, she led him into the bedroom where they stopped at the foot of the bed, their hands still clasped together.

Shyly, Steven pulled his hand from her grip and proceeded towards the adjoining bathroom where he first reached for his anxiety medicine. "I haven't been sleeping well for weeks. I probably won't sleep now, but if I don't at least try to sleep, I'll lose the last remnants of my sanity."

"Okay," said Heidi as she surveyed the man's dirty sheets and blankets. "If you don't mind, I'll just lie on top of the bed."

Steven interrupted the application of toothpaste to his brush. "Yes, of course. I hope the smell of my bedroom isn't too bad for your vampire senses."

"The smell isn't that bad," said Heidi—seeing her comment as a half-truth rather than a white lie.

After a quick brush of his teeth, Steven closed the bathroom door to urinate, exiting a minute later only to stand nervously at the edge of the bed. After a subconscious moment, he quickly stripped down to his underwear and slid under the covers, all to Heidi's bemusement.

The woman reclined onto her back, eventually turning her head to find Steven's waiting stare. She smiled at him and asked, "So what kind of story do you want to hear?"

"Anything. Something with a happy ending, preferably."

"Happy endings usually only happen in fairy tales."

"I'll take anything. Maybe it's the passing of time, but your oldest stories don't depress me. They feel like Grimm' Fairy Tales."

"Okay. Let me comb my memories for a couple minutes."

Steven turned onto his side, tucking his pillow under his head. "Can you remember everything?"

"No," answered Heidi softly. "When we meditate, our reflection helps our brains retain the important memories while letting the unimportant details permanently fade away. The brain can only hold so much." Heidi smiled as the man's next question flashed in his eyes before they again flitted away. "What?" she asked.

Slowly, Steven looked into the vampire's eyes. "Do you remember their faces, the ones you've fed upon?"

Heidi calmly replied. "Some. When I feed on scum, I barely take notice, but sometimes...on a rare occasion, I take notice."

"When?" whispered Steven.

"Before modern warfare, two hundred years or so, we vampires would linger near the battlefields of grand armies for entertainment. We would watch the humans slaughter each other for the petty goals of their narcissistic leaders. After the battles, we would sometimes slip onto the fields once dark to feed. We often found terminally wounded soldiers clinging onto life. Sometimes with the moon reflecting off our faces, many of these dying men thought we were angels."

Steven swallowed hard and asked, "Did you reveal the truth to them?"

"No," replied Heidi with her traditional candor. "I would let them believe what they wanted. I'd even helped some pray before..."

"Before you ended their suffering," Steven concluded softly. "If I was dying from a painful battle wound, I'd want a beautiful angel like you to end my suffering."

If Heidi were not a vampire, she may have blushed at the man's words. "We let them have their beliefs at the end. We're not monsters."

"Were you humane about it, I mean at the end, the actual death."

"Yes. Their deaths were quick. Believe it or not, our hunting has a method. When hunting as a coven, you do not want fear to spread amongst a crowd by someone screaming ominously. Nor is it good to let your prey fear unnecessarily since their adrenalin taints the blood. Some young, uncouth vampires don't take notice of their hunting methods and will hunt poorly. You have to learn quickly if you want to survive in this world as vampire; you have to be fast and discreet, and dare I say it, humane."

Steven struggled to hide his amusement. Perhaps uninhibited by his medicine, he smiled and said, "After having met two actual vampires, I still think the only true monsters in this world are men."

Once more, Heidi felt her face flush despite the impossibility. "We vampires have our bad apples like everyone else, but overall, we are more civil and organized than any human society."

Feeling as if Heidi's words had turned into sales rhetoric, Steven began to contemplate a new topic of discussion.

Also sensing the weight of the conversation, Heidi promptly asked, "Do you like ghost stories?"

Steven's smile grew. "Of course."

"Do you know of the great ship, the SS Great Eastern? I once sailed on it."

Rising up onto his elbow, Steven brow arched with intrigue. "Isn't that the ship so large that it was thought workman had been accidentally sealed within the bulkheads, that their ghosts could be heard tapping on the steel."

"Yes."

Steven lowered himself back onto his pillow with a cautious look. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," replied Heidi with mock offense. "But I can tell you that those ghostly sounds did occur. I heard them first hand."

"Could you hear their hearts beating through the bulkheads?"

"No, silly," retorted Heidi with a smirk. "Ghosts don't have heartbeats."

With a hint of embarrassment, Steven's gaze drifted to the empty space between them on the bed. "Right. Silly me."

"What?"

With childlike apprehension, Steven asked, "Do you actually believe in ghosts?"

"Yes. I told you the truth: I heard them on that great ship. And though I did not see these particular ghosts, I have seen others. You know I don't lie." Heidi pointed to her face. "You once thought vampires were a myth, and yet, here I am."

Steven grinned.

Heidi found the man's grin peculiar. "The thought of ghosts makes you happy?"

Steven nodded.

"Why?"

"A ghost would be proof that there is more than a black empty void waiting for us after death."

"Well, I can tell you that ghosts are all around us. It's just harder for humans to sense them."

"Did you help the ghosts trapped on the Great Eastern?"

"I tried. I set out looking for their remains but failed to discover them by the time we reached our destination. I suspected that had I began tearing open metal bulkheads in my search that the captain of the ship would have not been too pleased. Not something one can do discreetly at sea."

Steven's gaze again returned to the empty space on the bed as he asked, "What did you do for foo— Um…did you have to feed while at sea?"

"As with any travel, we were always careful with our ocean crossings. Vampires are wise not to feed on a ship since every passenger has to be accounted for. Back then, we would simply feed before setting off. And if we had to feed at sea, we'd feed on sharks."

Steven eyes widened. "How?"

"Sharks sometimes follow ships. We'd slip overboard at night to feed before climbing back on board unseen."

"Could you swim across the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Yes, but it's not something we'd actually want to do. Even we get bored with monotonous tasks."

"That would be boring" commented Steven before yawning. "But don't you find humans irritating? Especially in close quarters like on a ship."

"Human's were much less annoying back during the sailing and steamship days."

Steven's brow pinched together. "How so?"

Heidi's gaze drifted up to the ceiling as she searched for the words. "Well," she began slowly, "humans still had that sense of wonder. They had stronger faiths and more vivid imaginations. Modern science seems to have dampened all that. Humans now are all about facts. This, sadly, makes them all so wearisome."

"I like science," declared Steven with a hint of defensiveness.

"Yes, but you're not boring." Heidi's smile grew. "How do you phrase it? You're interesting." After a short pause where the two exchanged regarded looks, she continued, "Should I continue with my ghost story?"

"Yes, please do," replied Steven with rosy cheeks. "Do you have many ghost stories?"

"Of course," replied Heidi as she rested her head upon her upper arm. "I have all kinds of ghost stories that take place on ships, deep within forests, and inside grand castles."

"Good. Tell me more about the Great Eastern," said Steven with an intoxicated smile, his eyelids weighted down by his medicine.

Heidi did continue, but she did not share much of her story before her audience had fallen asleep. By his heavy mouth breathing and earlier erratic demeanor, she could see that his mental exhaustion had taken a toll. She decided to remain by his side throughout the night.

Sleep had been one of those things her memories had discarded, the ideal of sleep only brought to mind the nicety of never feeling mentally exhausted. Mostly, she admired the longer days, the almost infinite time bestowed to her upon her ascension. Staring into the tired face of this man, she began to admire his fortitude of protecting all life, his path of peace, his connection to nature. Of all the terrible humans that deserve to be visited by a vampire, this human did not, and for the first time, she felt guilty—something else she had not experienced in a long time. She eventually concluded that this human would make for a terrible vampire.

At the first sign of twilight, Heidi gently tickled Steven's nose until his eyelids fluttered open. When his eyes eventually focused, she whispered, "I have to leave."

"Okay," he grumbled, letting his eyes fall shut.

"No. I don't think you understand. I'm returning to Italy today. I will not be returning."

Steven's eyes snapped opened. He sat up. "What about—"

Heidi sat up slowly, swinging her legs off the edge of the mattress. She spoke softly as she moved to the foot of the bed. "You're safe. I promise."

Steven tossed aside his blankets and scooted towards the woman. "I don't understand."

"I'm giving you your life back."

"How can you? The Volturi said—"

Heidi covered the young man's mouth briefly as she smiled. She bent down to stare into his eyes. "Loyal Volturi guards, servants who have proved their worth to the masters, are sometimes granted wishes. I haven't asked for anything in decades. I'm going to ask the masters to forget about you."

Steven's dismay became more apparent as the seconds passed. "They think that I could be a useful weapon. They won't let me go. Plus, I know of their existence. They won't want me wondering free."

Heidi straightened. "They will let you go if I ask, especially if I make a special pledge."

By the ominous tone in which Heidi had said the words, Steven became very still. "What pledge."

"If a vampire pledges their life in return of a favor, it signifies the importance of the request, that the vampire will sacrifice their life if the pledge is broken."

"You'd do that for me." Steven began to reach for Heidi's hand but checked himself, gripping the edge of the bed instead. "What if I screw up and anger the Volturi? I don't want them hurting you for my mistake."

Heidi gently reached down and took hold of Steven's hand. "I know that you'll keep the secret safe. I trust you."

Steven felt Heidi's grip slowly loosen, his hand coming to rest on his thigh. The mix emotions flooding his body had left him speechless.

"Do you still have the money we gave you?"

Steven nodded.

"Good. Take some time off to relax, enjoy the summer, mountain bike, travel. In a couple months, you should be as good as new. You can then return to work, hopefully to a job more enjoyable."

Swallowing hard, Steven asked with a raspy voice, "How will I know if your masters have accepted your pledge."

With a calming smile, Heidi bent over once more to lift Steven's chin with the tip of her finger. "If in week, you find yourself still amongst the living, then you'll know they've granted me my wish and have accepted my pledge." She then watched with amazement as the man's eyes began to well. She kissed him on the forehead with her cool vampire lips before straightening and taking a step back.

Unable to speak, the confused man wiped his tears with his quivering hands.

"Goodbye, Steven." Heidi then passed through the open bedroom door and quietly exited the apartment, leaving Steven as she first discovered him those many months ago.