The Chalice (Luna Vampire Series)

by Christine Asher

  Damn, I needed rest in the worst way. I'd have to quit brooding over crap I was powerless to change. Who knows when my last good night's sleep occurred. Or day's sleep. Hell. Will I ever see a sunrise again? Or a sunset? And speaking of, I've gotta remember to ask Adrian to explain the whole sunlight situation the next time I see him. Aarrgh! Stop thinking!

  "You called for me, darling?" Adrian chortled, immediately making my heart skip a beat the instant he magically appeared beside my bed.

  "No, I didn't call for you and, if you can't tell, I'm trying to sleep." God! Would I ever get some shut-eye? For real, first my stress and now Adrian. Peace and quiet anyone? Groaning, I covered my face with a pillow and sighed loudly.

  "You wanted to ask me whether or not the sunlight could harm you."

  "Jesus," I muttered under my breath. "I thought you weren't gonna eavesdrop on me anymore?"

  "I'm aware this isn't an emergency. Alas, it was impossible to ignore an opportunity to visit a woman as pleasant as you," he bantered jovially. "That said, since I'm here, would you like your answer?"

  "Whatever," I grumbled, moving the pillow just enough to give me a view of the room. "Share the bad news and then you can go."

  He chuckled, blonde curls bouncing around happily. "It's not as bad as one might think. Born vampires can usually endure sunlight with very limited ill effects. However, if a made vampire gets exposed to the sun, they'll receive third-degree burns which often lead to death. Those who don't die are severely scarred and weakened for years. Seeing that you're a hybrid, it remains to be seen whether or not you'll be capable of enduring exposure."

  "That sucks. I wish I knew for certain..."

  "There's no pressing need," he chimed in, blue eyes twinkling. "You'll be staying here, underground, for an extended period of time."

  Yeah right. A part of me wanted to set him straight about his misconceptions, but I kept my cool and changed the subject instead. "So, um, there's something that's been bugging me," I began, repositioning myself in bed by squishing a couple pillows under my back. "How do you do that? You know, appear out of nowhere, disappear into thin air?"

  "Well, aren't you snug as a bug," he teased, effortlessly deflecting my question with a dig at my jammies. "The bunnies suit you in a cute, five-year-old sort of way."

  "Listen, buddy, if you're only gonna stand there and screw with me, you might as well leave. It was either this or some kinky ass lingerie." I balled my hands into fists. "Of course, I'm sure you'd prefer the slutty..."

  "Actually, I desire you entirely as you are," he interrupted, sincerity flooding his words. "To answer you, my power is space." And, with a dramatic flourish, he lifted the sleeve of his purple suit coat, apparently not having changed after the party, to reveal three small circles arranged in the shape of a triangle on the inside of his left forearm.

  "A birthmark?" I asked, running the tips of my fingers over my own crescent moon.

  "Yes, space is the mark of my line and moon is the mark of yours," he explained before giving me a quick wink. "My power enables me to take form wherever I wish. It also affords me a few other advantages. That said, undetected movement is often the most useful."

  I nodded my head at the information. "So, you can basically, poof, and materialize wherever you want to?"

  "In a way, although, I never really disappear or reappear. I prefer to describe it as creating a diversion. You see, space surrounds every atom in every molecule. And these holes are what fundamentally permit me to restructure the world."

  "Does that mean I'm gonna be able to go all invisible?" If I could, it'd definitely help me escape.

  "Doubtful. If you develop them, your powers will be of the moon. That said, those born later than the first fifty or so generations, suffer from some intermingling of abilities, genetic watering down as a result of too much interbreeding. Thus, the reason Tsedaka commands fire which is a sun-born gift as well as speed of movement which is a moon-born gift."

  "So, I'll be proficient at running fast and lighting candles from a distance?" I tried not to show it, but I was a little disheartened by the unspectacular nature of my future talents.

  "Yes, we usually inherit the skills of our ancestors. Nonetheless, hybridization may also lead to no powers at all. At any rate, it's currently unimportant on account of the several months it takes for gifts to emerge." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, fidgeting uneasily. And, as expected, his body language raised my suspicions. Why did discussing my powers make him uncomfortable? Hmm...

  "Okay," I finally replied, deciding to switch topics in order to keep him talking. Even the smallest detail might aid in my departure. "So, um, the ceremony got me wondering. Do the birthmarks have anything to do with the stupid colors the crowd wore?"

  "No, not exactly," he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders casually. "Tsedaka instituted the color system in the 1950s when the vampire population exploded. And, considering our numbers have grown to over ten thousand in the United States, it's become invaluable in the sense that it assists us with identifying each other. Beyond that, it also alleviates misunderstandings."

  "And you have to wear purple all the time?" I inquired, rubbing at my heavy eyelids.

  "No, only while I'm on your father's land which is sector one or what the humans referred to as Kansas. Essentially, we're obligated to wear our colors in lieu of obtaining permission for admittance to his territory. This makes everyday affairs more manageable because there are often over a thousand of us here from various parts of the country. It would be exhausting for Tsedaka to authorize each visitor on a case-by-case basis."

  "Ah, vampire gangs," I giggled, finding the whole scenario strangely funny. "Colors and matching tats!"

  "I can see the similarity, yet you've got it a bit wrong. While each sector shares a color, we don't all have matching birthmarks. Granted, the lineage of the aristocracy must continue uninterrupted, hence you and your father both being of the moon. That said, those living within each sector often originate from a plethora of different backgrounds. Personally, I pride myself in having a rather eclectic house."

  "How do you," I hesitated, a sudden yawn overtaking me as my increasing disinterest rose to the surface. "Sorry, all of this is very, um, educational. So, uh, anyway, how do you guys keep hidden? I mean, with that number of vamps, why haven't people discovered your existence?"

  "Obviously, we're very careful," he jested, smiling wryly. "Now, I must say, you seem extremely tired; it might help if I stay until you're asleep."

  And, right as I was about to object, Adrian poofed to my side. He reclined there, barely inches away, with his suit coat folded neatly at the foot of the bed and a plain pair of black socks adorning his feet. The weasel must've left his shoes on the floor somewhere.

  Freaky bastard, he'd better not assume gettin' into my pants would be that easy. "What in the hell are you doing? I didn't invite you to join me."

  "Oh, don't be difficult," he chortled, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. "We've been much more intimate and noticeably less clothed on several prior occasions."

  Instantly, my cheeks flushed as I remembered the feel of his skin against mine. "I kinda thought you were the one in the dreams, but..."

  "Our encounters keep replaying in my mind," he cut in, an expression of honesty softening his features. "You should know, I've never had a similar experience with another human or vampire. And we met in our sleep unaided, completely without my intervention."

  "That's precisely what you'd say if you were trying to manipulate me," I scoffed, secretly wishing I could believe him. Regardless, the waves of pleasure that'd sucked me into oblivion during our last encounter were prominent in my memories. Especially the part concerning my struggle to come back to reality.

  "Truthfully, Luna, I didn't force myself upon you. I do admit, however, that in our most recent dream I attempted to restrict your waking. My intent wasn't malicious; I simply hoped to alleviate a portion of your misery. And, ever since then, al
l I've wanted to do is hold you." He shifted his body closer to mine. "I've missed you, darling."

  "I'm not sure..."

  "Please let yourself go. Trust me, if only for tonight," he urged, his voice as smooth as silk. "We're both fully clothed and I'm laying on top of the comforter. I promise, I seek nothing other than your company." He gently placed his arm around my shoulders. "What harm is there in cuddling with me for awhile? Just until you fall asleep? I can feel that you desire it too."

  I did desire it which was extremely disconcerting. Logically, I shouldn't feel like being up close and personal with any of the losers in this underground hellhole. And that's when I knew he had to be using his powers on me. "No more mind tricks, remember?" I grumped bitterly. "Quit making me feel drawn to you."

  "I swear, I'm not doing anything of the sort; your emotions are your own. Although, if you'd permit me, I'd enter your subconscious and ease you into sleep."

  "Nope, no vamp hocus-pocus," I warned, desperately yearning for his touch. Seriously, my entire life I'd longed for a man who'd hold me, for the sake of snuggling alone. Not as a preamble to sex. And here was a guy offering to do just that. I knew I shouldn't accept his offer. Nevertheless, I also realized that if I declined the proposition, I'd always wonder. Damn.

  "Come," he murmured, his kind eyes inviting me closer. "Let's enjoy each other."

  God, what was I getting myself into? "Look," I sighed, intuition shaking its finger at me in reproach. "You've gotta promise not to mess with my head or cop a feel once I'm asleep."

  He stifled a chuckle. "I give you my word, darling, I'll do nothing to earn your distrust on this night. Now relax."

  For some reason, and don't ask me why, I decided to believe him. Perhaps it was the sincerity in his voice, his resolute demeanor, or maybe it was a signal from a deeper source. All I know for certain is that curling onto his chest felt akin to coming home after a hard day's work. Relaxing. Comforting.

  And, while Adrian's heart beat methodically against my ear, he held to his promise. He didn't cause disturbing electrified sensations on my skin or make me drift away from myself. He merely provided a warm embrace which helped me feel protected for the first time in days. My last memory before nodding off was of his hand lightly caressing my hair. And, in that moment, I was thankful to finally be safe, absolutely safe. Even if it only lasted for the briefest of instants.

  Chapter 11

  Suddenly alert, a strange and somewhat otherworldly experience began playing itself out before my eyes. And, in spite of the darkness surrounding me, I used my night vision's cat-like precision to gaze down at a woman soundly sleeping several feet below me. Floating there, I rapidly realized she was me and, surprisingly, felt no fear. Only curiosity. And, when my bedroom door opened with a creak, a dark figure stepping in seconds later, I watched the events unfold with an eerie sense of detachment.

  It was akin to viewing a play from a first row seat, well, until I died that is. Yeah, yeah, I know. I skipped ahead a bit. So, basically, my uninvited guest pulled out an enormous butcher's knife right as he reached the edge of my bed. And, of course, my stupid ass just laid there, immersed in sleep, allowing him to plunge the blade deep into my chest and skewer my heart in a single blow. Immediately, I reworked my very definition of pain. Soul penetrating, gut wrenching. Heart stopping.

  Gasping for breath, my consciousness slammed back into my body and spurred my eyes open in a frenzy. I hastily surveyed the room, seeing nothing unusual. Simply darkness. Soon after, the wondrous sound of my heartbeat registered in my mind. No intruder, no knife. A dream, thank god!

  Still gulping air and trying to rein in my overreaction, I touched the area of the bed where Adrian had slept. It was completely cold, meaning that he must've left hours earlier. And, since he'd kept to his word, neither molesting me nor screwing with my head, a part of me wished he would've hung around a little longer. Maybe I snagged a good one at last...

  Just then, my door creaked softly and a shadowy figure walked in. Deshavu. Desha fucking vu. Shit! Shit! Shit! His approach slowed to a crawl and, even though his identity was hidden with a black cape and matching ski mask, he was unable to confuse my vamp intuition. The guy was a human. Food. Don't ask me how, but I knew with absolute certainty.

  Honestly, it wasn't his smell because, so far as I could tell, humans and vampires shared the same scent. I simply understood the reality of the matter. Some super vamp radar system in my frontal lobes? A sixth sense? Instinct? Or a weirder explanation? More questions about my mess of a life in need of answering. Sigh.

  As the mystery man stepped closer to my bed, eventually brandishing his large knife, I willed myself into utter stillness in order to avoid losing my advantage. I went so far as to close my eyes, leaving them open barely enough to peek through. If he assumed I continued to sleep, it'd be easier to fight him off. And, yes, I'd fight. I refused to lay there and die, definitely not my style.

  Regardless, I'd never been in a scuffle before, especially with a person using a knife. So, I totally freaked while I waited for his arms to raise above me and the blade to be brought toward my chest. Then, with all the speed and strength I could bring to the table, I leaped up and punched the creep in the nose. A muffled groan escaped him as he flew across the room, landing hard against the wall opposite me.

  Without turning back to see if he was giving chase, I sprinted to the living room, slammed my bedroom door to impede his progress, and started screaming bloody murder. "Help! Help! There's somebody trying to kill me! Help! I need help!" Receiving no answer, I banged on the main door with my fists. "You've got me locked in here and there's a guy with a knife!"

  In a flash, Petrus rushed in, exploding onto the scene in a fury of defensive rage. Although, despite the situation's urgency, he still made sure to shut the door securely. No freedom in sight. They were gonna keep me trapped, even with a murderer on the loose. The bastards!

  "Princess," he boomed, shielding me with his body. "Stay behind me! Come on, I must get you to a safer location. Let's go to that corner." He pointed to a relatively protected area on the other side of the bar, hurrying us over.

  In moments, Lucien joined us. "What's going on?" he asked, eyes hazy with sleep. "I heard your call for help, Luna. Are you alright?"

  "There's, there's a guy in my room. He attacked me and, um, the weird thing is, I dreamed of it ahead of time," I stammered, balling my hands into fists to prevent their shaking.

  Unexpectedly feeling wetness, I glanced down and saw blood dripping from a gash in my bicep. The psycho must've stabbed me as I punched him. Damn. I hadn't felt a bit of pain earlier, yet now it began throbbing sharply.

  "Did you complete combat training?" Petrus barked, carrying on with his duty.

  Abruptly, Lucien's child-like demeanor morphed into the cunning of an aged warrior. "Yes, sir," he affirmed.

  Seconds later, Amelia peeked out the servants' quarters and squeaked a shaky, "Is everyone okay?"

  "Return to your room and close the door," Petrus ordered brusquely. "If there's a lock, ensure its engaged." And before he could say anything further, she promptly retreated to safety. "Good. Now, Lucien, take my place. I need to apprehend our intruder. Protect the princess and give your life if you must."

  "Unfailingly, sir," he avowed, exuding strength. After which, he briefly inspected my arm as Petrus stomped away.

  "Here princess, um, sorry, Luna," Lucien muttered, sounding a little perturbed at the slip. And, with the speed of a field medic, he ripped a piece of fabric from the hem of his white christening gown. "Wrap this around your arm, tightly, above the wound. It'll reduce the bleeding."

  I attempted to follow his instructions, however, my hands were slippery and trembling too badly. "I can't, I'm..."

  "Oh, you're such a girlie girl," he jested, lips curling upward affectionately. "Come here, I'll help."

  "Okay, but just so you know, I'm not a girlie girl," I grumped, begrudgingly moving closer to give him a whack at the uncoo
perative piece of material. Seriously, I fought a knife wielding attacker a few minutes ago. What was he thinking?

  Chuckling and shaking his head, he finished tying my tourniquet. "Definitely a girlie girl," he chided, pausing to meet my eyes. "Remember ordering me to treat you as a friend? Well, this is what you get, brutal honesty and a lot of teasing."

  "Whatever," I groaned, feigning annoyance. Admittedly, this was loads better than the groveling routine. "So, um, how did I dream of the attack before it occurred? It was strange, almost surreal."

  "In school, they taught us that premonitions are one of the rarer powers of the moon..."

  "All clear! He's dead!" Petrus announced, interrupting us as he vigorously strode toward the main door. "Were you alone in the room when the assailant entered, princess?"

  "Of course I was by myself," I lied, deciding not to mention Adrian's recent visit. "Who else would be there? My fairy freaking godmother?" At this rate, fairies probably were real. Sigh.

  "It'll be best to remain out here then," Petrus mused, hesitating in front of the keypad. "There's no reason for you to see the body."

  Jesus! I was so sick of the controlling cloak and dagger bullshit. "Look," I hissed, unable to curb my outrage. "I'm not some meek young girl. I can handle examining a dead body. And, anyway, why does being alone have even the slightest bearing on whether or not I'd wanna see it?"

  He shot me a patronizing glance. "I assumed you'd prefer to avoid seeing your first kill. Less traumatic and all."

  "But I only punched him once. How'd that..." My words trailed off as a salty taste invaded my mouth. It supplemented the bile that'd inadvertently started rising in the back of my throat. I killed someone. Hands trembling, my legs gave way as I curled into a ball on the floor, successfully hiding my face a mere instant ahead of an embarrassingly snotty flood of tears. I did the unforgivable thing, the worst of the worst. I took a human life.