Bleeding Heart

By Aspasia S. Bissas

When up-and-coming actor Ash is unexpectedly turned by ancient vampire Emma, he revels in the freedom of his new life. But freedom soon turns to crushing oppression. As Emma’s grip on him tightens, he begins to lose everything decent, everything human, inside him. When he realizes the strange woman who haunts his dreams is the same one Emma wants dead, will he stand by while Emma has her way again?

Mara killed her demons and left everything behind--so why does it feel like she’s still not free? She doesn’t know if she’s being haunted or hunted, but one thing she’s sure of is that she’ll have to face a reckoning for her past. Will she find a way to the future, or lose everything?

Bleeding Heart is a dark fantasy novel about nightmares, illusions, control, and revenge. Old meets new meets ancient in this follow-up to Love Lies Bleeding.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aspasia S. Bissas
• Release date: Nov 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781775012535

Aspasia S. Bissas

Inspired by pop culture, mythology, history, and magic--as well as a lifelong obsession with vampires--Aspasía is the author of the dark fantasy novels Love Lies Bleeding and Bleeding Heart, and the short stories "Blood Magic" and "Tooth & Claw," set in the same world. She lives in Toronto, Canada, and is currently working on her next project. You can follow her on her website: aspasiasbissas.com.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Mara was hungry and lonely. Hungry, she could take care of.

She was in London. She’d been there for what felt like months, but really was only a little over a week.

Nigel and Dominic were dead.

She’d killed them.

They’d deserved it, she reminded herself as her anxiety started to spike. Dom had betrayed her, and both of them were threats to her and Lee. Even more than vampires usually were.

Her mind, as it so often did, latched on to Lee. How was he doing? Was he all right? Did he forgive her for leaving, for abandoning him?

It was for the best, all for the best. Always for the best.

An image of a bashed-in skull appeared in front of her. Nigel’s unseeing eyes staring, judging. She blinked and Dominic was there, lying on the ground, a dagger with a broken handle buried in his chest.

No, she muttered; not real.

But it was real. Or had been. She could still feel Nigel’s skull shattering under the iron poker, could still feel the handle of the blade breaking off as she tried to twist it in Dominic’s heart.

She knew it had happened; she just couldn’t believe it. Maybe because it felt as though they were still with her. Or maybe because she hadn’t bothered to check to make sure Dom definitely wouldn’t be coming back. Either way, she’d felt as though she was being followed ever since.

Part of her hoped Lee had tracked her down, not only because she desperately wanted to see him, but also because the alternative didn’t bear considering.

Was Dominic still out there? Was he her ghost, her shadow, her hunter? Leave it to him to keep chasing her from beyond the grave.

Or had all her victims broken free, the restless shades of her centuries of slaughter? She’d come home and unlocked their tombs.

The edges of her vision started tinting red. Right, she was hungry. Blood first, ghosts later.

The bars were always good for an easy meal. The streets were already full of rowdy patrons heading to the next place, or getting into brawls, or stumbling home, heads fuzzy and defenses down. It wouldn’t take much to get one to follow her instead, to wander off into a dark corner of the city where prying eyes didn’t reach.

She’d have to play the game a few times tonight, if she wanted enough to be sated without taking too much from anyone. It wasn’t how she usually fed—how she used to feed—but she was trying something new. Feeding without hunting, without killing. Without the thrill. No matter how much blood she drank this way she was always left empty. But she survived, and it kept any more ghosts from haunting her.

Rising voices caught her attention: a man and a woman’s. The man’s voice was laden with threat; the woman’s, distress. Mara’s pulse quickened. Maybe she’d be playing a different game tonight, one where a predator would get bled. It was always nice when people got what they deserved. And so rare.

She approached the area where she’d heard the voices, making sure to look innocuous. Just a girl out late, alone, quick steps and head down—no threat to anyone. Or so they’d think—so they always thought—until it was too late to think at all. But when Mara reached the spot, an unlit path next to a park playground, she found a woman standing calmly facing the other direction. No one else was around. Had they already left, or had Mara misheard and gone to the wrong place? She stopped, confused. The woman turned to look at her.

Too late.

Mara froze as she stared at Emma. Her mind went blank for a terrifying moment, and then it raced through her options. Emma was too old, too strong, too hateful. She would rend Mara to pieces like a rabid dog with a ragdoll. Mara had to get away. She had to get away now.

She turned to run and nearly collided with another vampire. She remembered him from Nigel’s kitchen the night of the party, when all this had started. He’d hidden in the shadows watching her and Lee until she caught him staring. He was taller than she recalled. And with deader eyes.

She drove her knee into his groin. When he doubled over, she grasped him by the head and broke his neck. He dropped, lifeless, although he wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Emma had moved closer and Mara realized the other vampire was getting ready to give chase. She might be able to lose Emma if she could get back to the high street and duck into the alleys, or even the tunnels under the city.

She veered around, ready to bolt. This time her way was blocked by a young woman she didn’t recognize. A human. Mara uttered a silent apology to the soon-to-be-deceased. The woman glanced at the prone vampire with the broken neck.

She fights dirty, she said.

That she does.

That voice. A shroud of ice wrapped around Mara, weighing her down, threatening to choke her. Cold crept into her bones until she was sure they would shatter if she moved; shatter and crumble. She told herself it was impossible, even as she knew it surely wasn’t. She started shaking and couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to look, but she pivoted anyway, eyes wide.

All right, love? Dominic asked, stepping out of the shadows. It was as though nothing had changed, no time had passed, and she’d never plunged a blade into his chest.

Been better, she said.

He laughed, that harsh bark of a laugh she knew so well that it was etched onto her soul.

She glanced over her shoulder. Emma and the woman were flanking her. The vampire on the ground was starting to get up, although his neck sat at a stomach-turning angle. His dead eyes now glared at her. She guessed it would be a few minutes before he fully healed, but even broken he could still fight. Still kill. There was nowhere to run, no escape.

She should have known. She and Dominic had used this ruse so many times, trapped so many victims. Their prey approaching her to offer assistance, to protect her from the only threat they saw. Dominic’s eyes shining because she played her part so well. Afterwards they would laugh at the would-be heroes who saw a woman and assumed she was harmless. And here Mara had done the same, the exact same thing, rushing to help Emma. To play savior so she could get some respite from her ghosts. But the ghosts were solid all along, and they had fangs.

For a moment she considered not running, not fighting. Giving up. She had lived so long, caused so much harm. She was tired.

But as she felt the malevolence emanating from Emma, something inside Mara raged. Not her. Not now. There were better ways to die, and more deserving killers.

She’d take her chances with Dominic. He would forgive. He had to forgive.

She stepped toward him, forgetting his betrayal, forgetting that he answered to Emma. They locked eyes and all she remembered were the times he’d made allowances, the times he’d defended her. Because she was his first—his only—child. His only love, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual. He’d forgiven her for that, as well. He’d understood. He understood her, better than anyone. And now he would understand that she’d panicked. That she hadn’t wanted to kill him. Hadn’t meant to. Her thoughts radiated off her like flickering rays of light.

He would forgive. He had to forgive.

I know you didn’t mean it, pet.

She stood in front of him now. A moment of relief at his words.

And then Dominic’s fist coming at her.

She reeled, pain blossoming across her face. Her mind blocked out the threat it didn’t want to face by wasting time wondering when she’d last been hit like that. She tried to make herself focus on what to do next. Couldn’t focus. Hands grabbed her and she felt something sharp. She tried to fight but she felt slow, clumsy, like she was underwater.

There was another sharp bite. She thought about fangs and tigers and unworthy killers. And then she thought of nothing at all as everything went black.

CHAPTER TWO

Ash! Hey, Ash-man!

He saw Finn signaling to him through the crowd and started making his way over. The place was packed. Pretty people flitted around him, dancing, drinking, dosing. They shouted over music being spun by the sickest DJ this side of Santa Monica, and hooked up with whichever stranger caught their eye—just as nature intended. Ash was looking to find a sweet thing of his own to take home, but that was for later—much later. The night was young.

He lifted his drink above his head as he made his way through a particularly tight knot in the crowd. A petite blonde smiled at him. Then again, why put off until later what you can do now? He smiled back. Her eyes suddenly lit up and then she was asking for his autograph. Tourist, but that was okay too. He invited her to join him at the back of the room, where Finn still waited. She didn’t hesitate.

Almost there and a couple caught his eye. Tall, with warm skin and banging bodies; they looked like a playground he needed to explore. With a sigh he kept moving. Dani had told him to keep his unconventional activities on the down low, said it would hurt his career to be open. She told him it was okay for girls to be bi or pan or poly, but the viewing public was put off when guys came out. Whatever. He was taking her advice—for now. But considering Hollywood’s rep for off-the-hook decadence, it could be annoyingly basic.

When they finally reached Finn, he greeted Ash with a slap on the back before looking the blonde over. Nice.

She giggled. I’m Sierra.

I’m sure you are. Finn winked at her. He had two of his own waiting nearby—a slightly tipsy Asian girl and an even tipsier blonde, both rocking their obviously unnatural enhancements. The two of them huddled together smiling at Ash. Finn didn’t bother introducing them before the group went to the VIP room.

Ash gave one last look at the couple on the dance floor before he slipped through the curtain.

Rowan and Mason were already inside with six more girls. Trust them to go overboard. On the plus side, they’d all have their choice of hotties. Not that he could remember the last time any of them didn’t have their choice.

Finn Wilson, Rowan Gray, Mason Michael Pratt, and Ash Sai: all four about to blow up. Stars of a cult hit TV series, they’d been dubbed the Pratt Pack, but no one expected originality from the press. They were friends on and off screen; tonight was about getting in some serious post-production partying.

Ash had even more reason to party than the rest of them. His first major film was premiering in a few weeks and he was set to feature in a slew of promos and interviews for it. And, though he’d never admit he was into it, they all knew he got the most love from critics, and from fangirls. The other three acted like it was no big deal, but he noticed the looks they threw him when they thought he wasn’t looking. As far as he was concerned, tonight was all his.

Sierra snuggled against him. You’re my favorite on the show.

Really? Well, Ash looked around conspiratorially before turning back to look into her wide brown eyes. I’m my favorite too.

She giggled and her cheeks flushed. He wondered if she flushed like that all over.

He nuzzled her neck before nodding over to where Mason had started breaking out the evening’s supply of recreational substances. Care to join me?

She smiled, and he slipped his arm around her waist.

When they got in their cars later to head to the after party, Ash was too wired to notice the woman watching him from the shadows.

He was restless. He should’ve been passed out by now; instead, he found himself flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Sierra lay next to him, fast asleep. On her other side was Finn’s Asian girl. He still didn’t know her name. She was awake too, digging through her purse until she found what she was looking for: a silver cigarette case with a matching lighter and a couple of joints tucked inside. The girl had style. Not for the first time he was glad she’d ditched Finn for him.

She took out one of the joints and lit it, the flaring flame in the dark making her sweet face all jagged angles. She took a drawn-out hit before smiling at Ash and offering it to him.

He reached over. It wasn’t his usual thing but maybe it would help him sleep.

The quiet was shattered by the sudden angry buzz of his phone. He jumped and the girl dropped the blunt. She fell into a mad scramble trying to fish it out of the tangled sheets. Sierra slept through it all.

He grabbed his pants off the floor and dug the phone out of the pocket. It stopped buzzing as he wrapped his hand around it. He swore and got ready to put it on silent. The buzzing started again, somehow more insistent than before.

Dani was on the other end, sounding wiped. Thank god you picked up.

Kind of late for a chat, isn’t it? He glanced at the time. Or early.

I’m sorry, sweetie. I have bad news.

What is it? His stomach twisted.

There was a long pause before Dani finally spoke. The show’s been cancelled.

What? Why?

Why else? The ratings didn’t meet expectations.

Oh, fuck me. Having retrieved the joint, the girl now looked over at him with a grin. He shook his head and turned away. Any other time.

I’m sorry, Ash.

Maybe someone else will pick it up.

Maybe.

Beyond visions of a ruined career and an anonymous future bagging groceries for a living, another thought wormed its way into his brain.

Dani, when did you hear about the show?

Late yesterday afternoon. I was going to tell you on Monday…

But?

There’s something else and I don’t know how to say it. Jesus, I’m shit at this.

Just tell me.

They couldn’t reach you so they called me.

Who?

It’s Alli. There’s been an accident.

CHAPTER THREE

Ash sat in the chair—the only chair every hospital had for visitors: uncomfortable no matter how you sat in it, and designed to make the worst situation somehow feel even worse. He’d pulled it up next to the bed, back already aching from his flight, head pounding from stress and lack of sleep. But all he noticed now was Alli’s hand in his. It was still warm. She was still warm.

One minute he’s ruling LA, ready to take on the world. The next, his whole world was a cramped room with ugly walls and worn out tiles spinning around him as he held his dead sister’s hand.

Time of death had been recorded about ten minutes ago, not long after he got there. The nurse had said something about Alli waiting to see him before she passed. He knew she wouldn’t do that to him. If Alli had any choice at all, she would never slip away before he could get his bearings, before he even really understood what was happening. Before he could say a proper goodbye. There was no way.

At 8:23 p.m. local time, Allegra Sarcini ceased to exist.

In three days Ash would join her.

But in the meantime, at 8:23 p.m. local time, he’d lost the only person on the planet who meant anything to him. He lost his last connection to who he was; everything else out there, in him, it meant fuck all. Now he was on his own, numb and trying to figure out what was left.

Another nurse came in. I don’t mean to rush you, and if you need more time, that’s fine—but the sooner we can take her…

Right, the valuable bits. Alli was an organ donor. So was he. It seemed like a great idea in theory—save a few lives instead of letting your insides go to waste. But now that it was happening, he had a hard time seeing the good when his sister was about to be carved up for whatever parts hadn’t been mangled in the car wreck.

But she wasn’t his sister anymore, was she? Alli had vacated.

Swiping his hand across his eyes, he reached out and touched the cross hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. He stared at the small gold pendant with the diamond in the middle. It was a gift from their father, and she’d never stopped wearing it. Not even after he checked himself into a hotel room and blew his brains out when she was only twelve. She’d never stopped believing in their father, in the universe, in Ash. And look where it had gotten her.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead before standing up.

I’m done.

He left the room without looking back.

He made it almost outside before a girl stopped him. She squealed as she recognized him, begged for his autograph. She was exactly what he needed, just the right kind of distraction with her dark hair and abundant assets. A little low-rent maybe, but she was cute and pleasing and eager.

Who should I make it out to?

Eyes shining, she answered, Megan.

He signed the slip of paper she’d handed him and gave it back to her: Fuck off, Megan. He walked through the door and took off down the street.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ash sat in a dive bar a few blocks down from his childhood house—now his house—where Alli had been living. Not a hipster dive bar with ironic dirt, but the real deal—sticky tables, miserable drunks, permanent smell of beer and stale air. He had a glass of the bar’s finest rotgut in his hand, and a third of the bottle left in front of him. Today had been the funeral.

He’d wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. No viewing, no gathering—just a quick graveside service at the cemetery where their parents were buried. But her housemate had insisted that Alli deserved more. Then the rest of her friends had got in on it—they wanted a wake, they wanted to reminisce. They wanted to take care of him with hollow words and meaningless gestures. That’s what Alli would’ve wanted, or so they all said. By the time relatives he hadn’t seen in years showed up and started chiming in, he’d given up on his original plans.

Through it all his only thought had been to escape. He needed to get away from all the old friends with memories he hadn’t been part of; from the guy he’d never heard of who claimed to be Alli’s boyfriend; from the relatives who didn’t know the first thing about Ash or Alli, but claimed blood as though they had the right. He needed to go somewhere nobody recognized him, and if they did, they didn’t fucking care. He needed to get wasted until he didn’t fucking care. Hence this bar. So far it was working out pretty well.

He downed his drink and poured another. He figured he had no reason to go back to the house anytime soon. Or LA, either. If anything came up, someone else could handle it. He needed time now to sort things out, to get to the place where he could even start.

But first: self-annihilation.

He stared down at his glass. When he finally looked up a woman was standing there.

I will join you.

Ash was used to presumptuous fans but this one had a set on her. Under different circumstances he’d be in love.

I’m good, thanks.

That wasn’t an offer, pet.

Ash leaned back in his seat and stared at her. He couldn’t place her accent. Actually, he couldn’t place her. She had light hair, light eyes, light skin. She looked like an overexposed photo, too washed out to look real. Her clothes were expensive, but old—and weirdly formal, like a costume from a period piece. She didn’t belong in this place. But who did?

Look, you seem nice—

I’m not.

Okay, well, I don’t know you—

I’m Emma. She said it as if it were a title instead of her name, then she sat in the chair across from him. And you are Ash Sai.

Not tonight I’m not. He emptied the glass and poured another.

It’s rude not to offer a lady a drink.

It’s also rude to sit where you’re not invited. He tipped his glass at her. Cheers.

She watched him drain it.

You claim you wish to be left alone, but that isn’t in your nature. You were never meant to be on your own.

He was done.

As awesome as it is having my fans tell me what kind of man I am, you don’t know me just because you’ve seen me act a few times, sweetheart.

I never said I was a fan.

He stared at her.

She smiled. Would you like to come home with me?

Ash didn’t know why he’d followed Emma back to her place, especially once he saw that it ranked somewhere on the luxury scale between an illegal rooming house and a condemned shack.

Beyond the surroundings, there was something about her he found unsettling, like she wasn’t all there. Like fragments were missing. And yet, when she looked at him, it was as though she saw parts of him no one else had ever seen. Parts he didn’t want anybody to see. She acted like she knew him to his core, while he couldn’t even scratch her surface.

She waved him ahead as she pushed open the unlocked door.

Not worried about break-ins? he asked.

I don’t fear intruders. A sliver of teeth showed as she smiled.

The room they entered was depressing, even more than the rest of the building. Cheap furniture with chipped veneer, scuffed and dented walls. Brown industrial carpeting that had probably been there for the last thirty years, getting ever more worn and filthy and rancid. The one bright spot in the dinge was the bed. It was unmade, but neatly, with the covers folded back in a precise line. The sheets were white, spotless and unwrinkled.

He noticed there were no pictures anywhere; not a cheesy family portrait, not a selfie, not even a poster to add some color. The blank walls felt as empty as she seemed. He wanted to ask if she really lived here, why she would choose anything so dismal. He probably would’ve if he hadn’t been distracted by the weird smell saturating the space, sickly sweet and tinged with metal.

The room left him more confused about Emma—he didn’t know if he wanted to get to know her better, or to get away and forget all about her. His thoughts were muddled as much from uncertainty as from booze. Only one way to make things clearer.

He twisted the cap off the fresh bottle he’d brought along, and took a sip straight from it. Then another, longer, drink.

You are going to have to learn to share, pet.

Emma walked over to him and took the bottle from his hand. She took a sip, keeping her gaze steady on Ash. He hadn’t realized how tall she was until now—nearly his height; she barely had to tilt her head to look him in the eye.

She leaned in, catching him off guard, and kissed him, letting a little of the whiskey trickle from her mouth into his. He swallowed, enjoying the way the liquor burned as it went.

The next moment he jerked back as soft turned to sharp, and the taste of whiskey was replaced with blood. His blood. She’d bitten him. His hand automatically went to his lip and wiped away the acrid liquid. He glared at Emma, pissed, ready to hurt her right back.

She laughed, licking the blood off her lips, before taking another long drink from the bottle and tossing it aside. The tang of alcohol overwhelmed the other smells in the room.

Without warning she was on him, moving so fast it took him a second to figure out what had hit him. She was quick, he’d give her that. And strong.

His annoyance with her evaporated as she started taking his clothes off; right—this was why he’d come back to her place.

He tried to relax, but not everything was as easy to ignore as a bloody lip. Something about this woman terrified him. He felt it in the pit of his stomach, in his marrow and tendons. But then the fear started merging with the liquor and lust, leaving him in a haze, so in the end he wasn’t complaining.

He lay back on the bed, closing his eyes for a second as the room tilted and his stomach followed. When he opened them again, she was straddling him. Up close he realized just how pale she really was; in the dim light she just about glowed. Bright blue veins crisscrossed her skin like rivers on a desert landscape.

He looked up at her face and into eyes that looked faded. He thought they might have been green at one point, but now they were another shade of pale. They were also hard as she looked back at him, cold. Empty. She was empty all over, inside and out.

The fear flared up again, but somehow this time it felt like pleasure; the mix of