Free Be Still My Heart by Jackie Ivie

Mine.”
    “If you say so.”
    “I do. And I’m one of the best you have.”
    “True.”
    “You owe it to me.”
    “Not true.”
    “You sent the fiend that turned me. Aleckzandor Von Brun. Remember? I do.”
    “You know about that, do you?”
    “He wasn’t an easy kill. But he finally talked.”
    There was a heavy sigh coming through the phone. Nothing on the screen moved.
    “I gave you eternal life, and I owe you…how?”
    “You gave me eternal death. Without asking. Now, quit wasting time and tell me where to find my mate. Now.”
    “Dress light. He’s in the desert. Excellent place to hold a vampire. Lots of sun. Oh. The coordinates are already on your file. I sent them four minutes ago.”
    “You made me beg?”
    “I don’t need a rogue on the team, Sasha, my dear. Least of all, you. Now go. Cease the recriminations and free him. I look forward to meeting him. Perhaps have a chat. If you can keep him from arguing long enough.”
    He was laughing as he cut off the communication. Sasha didn’t really hear it, she was searching her texts, and then she was sending the message to Vaughn.
     
    Some bloody fool was crying. Sobbing, actually. Wrecking any deep sleep and making the hard mattress feel like concrete.
    Stuart lifted his head. It was concrete. And he was the bloody fool. Some vampire he was turning out to be. He curled his body, pulling on all four chains that held him, to raise his head toward the grate above. He didn’t bother moving farther. There wasn’t enough headroom to even sit. The bastards.
    “Hey! Anybody! I’m ready to talk now!”
    “Shut up.”
    The terse command got accompanied by a poke from a sharpened rod. If Stuart didn’t move so quickly, it might’ve proved an effective deterrent. As it was, the rod glanced off concrete, lifting a chunk. The guy was serious, even if he was a bad shot.
    “Shut up? What kind of captor wants a prisoner to shut up after torturing him for five days? I’m ready to talk I tell you!”
    “A week, Piss-ant! And you are not being tortured.”
    “I’ve no company, no radio, no bathroom, not even a magazine to read! And you deny me food and water, too? You call this non-torture? I’m weak from thirst! What kind of captors are you?”
    “Stop yelling. This is not weak.”
    The rod came slamming down, missing again. The guard cursed him roundly in whatever language they were speaking, and pulled the spear back up. He’d have to practice his aim and his speed if he wanted to hit Doctor Stuart Emerson Findlay, the Third. Especially now that he had super powers and wasn’t at all thirsty for water or hungry for food. Nor did he need a restroom. If these were vampire powers, he was well pleased with them. About everything else…pissed off. And most of all, he was afraid of why he missed his vampire assassin mate chick so much. He didn’t dare love her because if that happened, he’d be vulnerable again. That’s what caused this hard shell about him in the first place. Love was a four-letter-word leading to weakness and pain: extreme, agonizing, forever pain.
    Please don’t let me love her.
    Stuart watched the guard from another dark corner. He’d given them all names. It was Oblivious, the stupid guard. He was slow. Not like the night pair. They were two of a kind and mean. Smart. Somehow, they knew the worst thing you could possibly do to a new vampire was read aloud all night with a skill level that would fail a grammar school exam. They were named Lean and Mean. They were both world class wrestler types, and they both dangled crucifixes all about the area above him.
    Oblivious was wrong. It wasn’t a week. It just seemed like one. Or more. Stuart had been in this concrete-sided, iron bar-topped hole for four days, and as many nights. Long enough to know every dark corner and how to reach it without one bit of sun touching him.
    “That was a lousy shot. You should practice more.”
    The rod came down again, missing him by an inch. Stuart