My thanks to PNWgal who inspires me and keeps me from drowning in the mire. Love you, Babes.
I have a thing with closing circles and tying loose ends. Hope you enjoy.
Best Served Cold
Woken from his sleep but eyes closed, the old man gasped, a round of coughing robbing his breath. He lay back, wheezing. The pounding in his head relented until he could once again hear the murmur of the machine that had become his companion.
There was no other sound, no stirring of air yet an urgent need to open his eyes assaulted him.
In the chair next to his bed sat an impeccably dressed gentleman, legs crossed and hands folded in his lap. He wore a smile, but instead of comforting the wealthy old man, it made his blood run cold. It was the chilling smile of a predator. The frigid stare from milky blue eyes didn’t help, either.
John Whitley reared back, using what pitiable strength he had to pull himself into a sitting position. Once the shock had passed, his fear was succeeded by anger. A shaking, misshapen hand pointed at the visitor. “You’re Charles Fitzgerald. Monster! You should be dead.”
Elegant fingers picked at imaginary lint and flicked over a knee covered in light Italian wool. “No. I’m Josef Kostan now, you need to keep up. And I hate to split hairs, John, but I am dead. I’ve been dead for over 400 years.”
“I know what you are. A corrupter of innocence. A soulless monster.” Watery blue eyes narrowed in hatred and the deeply creased face reddened.
“All true.” The smile widened, baring fangs as the deceptively boyish vampire leaned forward. “But you know, I wondered. What would make a sweet, innocent girl like our Sarah so eager to accept a monster like me?” The auburn head tilted in question, relishing his adversary’s confusion. “Even her own mother was not totally opposed. Why do you think that is? Why do you think your wife never told you about me until it was too late?” The grin was sincere now, responding to the fear dawning in the face across from him.
“I have no idea.”
Josef leaned back, appearing to be settling in for a genial conversation. “No?” He gave his head a quick shake and raised his brows. “My guess, and mind you it’s just a guess,” the fund trader held up a hand as if to ward off any argument, “is that she knew that there were monsters out there worse than vampires.”
Whitley’s face turned a deep red and he sputtered with indignation. “Are you insinuating...”
“I don’t insinuate.”
“It was YOU who killed my daughter. Who stole her from her family...” His voice trailed off at the shaking of the vampire’s head.
“Wrong and wrong.. Your daughter isn’t dead. She isn’t even that far from here.”
“Wha...what do you mean?
“Your daughter wanted to be Turned. Very much.” The vampire’s head fell back and he let out a long, suffering sigh. “Her only concern was leaving her mother.” He threw the old man a pointed look. “But she wanted to be with me. Forever. And I wanted her...” Josef paused to allow his audience a couple pulls of oxygen from the mask he’d abruptly jerked to his face. “But there was a ….glitch.” A quick swallow.
The pulls of oxygen became harder, gnarled fingers clutched at the bedding.
“She became trapped in between. She didn’t wake up.”
Distressing beeps emitted from the medical apparatus between them. Without his enhanced hearing, Josef would have missed the word ‘dead’ hissed from beneath the breathing mask. He shook his head.
“No. Not dead. Just trapped. She didn’t waken, but neither does she age. She’s been that way for the last 50 years in a house only a few miles away.” Steepling his fingers, Josef bounced them lightly against his lips. “I think I might have finally found a way to waken her.” He shrugged. “Whether she revives vampire or human, you’ve lost her.”
The old man’s head shook, his eyes wide with horror. His monitors were now an orchestra of warning. Fingers grasped at his chest.
Josef straightened himself from the chair and, with undue care, buttoned his suit jacket.
“She’s mine and I protect what’s mine.” He slid by the bed, ignoring the body writhing in agony and hardly paused at the low growl, an old man’s dying wish.
“I hope you burn in hell!”
“I’m betting on it.” Stretching up his chin to adjust his collar and pulling at his cuffs, Josef headed towards the door.
Bleeps and bells morphed into a single flat buzz.
“I’ll see you there.”
I could picture all of Josef's movements exactly as if I were in the room. But this side of Josef kind of gives me the shivers. 
Good riddance to Whitley. I am very hopeful that Josef has indeed found a way to wake Sarah. 
