Moonlight

by Amanda Ashley

  She didn’t care for the answer that came quickly to mind. Still, Adrianna couldn’t help wondering if the other woman had been invited for dinner, and if she, herself, was intended to be the main course.

  She took a step backward, her gaze fixed on Navarre’s face. “Did I come at a bad time?”

  “So,” Shaylyn remarked, “this is the reason you have no time for an old friend.” Her gaze moved over Adrianna in cool assessment. “Does she know what you are?”

  “She knows.”

  Sensing Adrianna’s inner distress, Navarre crossed the room and placed a protective arm around her shoulders.

  “I see. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  “Adrianna, this is Shaylyn. She’s here on vacation.”

  “So nice to meet you, my dear,” Shaylyn said, her voice laced with venom.

  Adrianna pressed closer to Navarre, every instinct, every sense of self-preservation, urging her to run for home just as fast as she could. She looked up at Navarre, her gaze pleading for assurance that he could protect her from the latent fury in the other woman’s eyes.

  “Have you nothing to say?” Shaylyn demanded.

  “It’s…it’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “I’m warning you, Shaylyn, leave her alone.”

  Adrianna cringed before the wrath in the other woman’s gaze. Never had she seen such anger, such jealousy.

  “Send her home, Navarre. You may go back to her in a few days, after I’m gone, but for now, I want your time. All of it.”

  “You’re no longer a goddess, Shaylyn, and I’m no longer your slave. I have my own life now, and you have no part in it.”

  “I’d choose my words more carefully, if I were you,” Shaylyn said sweetly, and before he could stop her, she fixed her gaze on Adrianna, her devil-black eyes narrowing with the intensity of her hatred.

  With a gasp, Adrianna pressed her hands to her head as a terrible burning pain filled her skull. A low moan rose in her throat as the pain increased. Lights danced in front of her eyes; the strength went out of her legs and she would have fallen if Navarre hadn’t caught her in his arms.

  “Shaylyn, stop it!”

  “As you wish.”

  Freed of the vampire woman’s hold, the pain receded, leaving only a dull ache. Adrianna looked up at Navarre, her eyes filled with fear. She tried to tell him she wanted to go home, but the words wouldn’t come. Panic engulfed her, and she raised a hand to her throat, her lips moving, though no sound emerged.

  “Dammit, Shaylyn, enough!”

  “Oh, very well.” With a wave of her hand, Shaylyn broke the spell. “Puny mortal. She has no resistance at all to the power of suggestion.”

  “Nor has she had thousands of years to learn to be cruel.”

  “And you, my fine fledgling, have lived long enough to know better than to speak to me like that. The day will come when you will regret those words.”

  “Shaylyn!”

  But it was too late. She was gone.

  Adrianna blinked in disbelief. One minute the woman had been standing not two feet away, and the next she was gone in a swirling, iridescent black mist.

  Muttering an oath, Navarre swept Adrianna into his arms and carried her to the sofa where he sat down and cradled her against his chest. “Are you all right?”

  Adrianna nodded.

  “Does your head still hurt?”

  She shook her head.

  “Dammit, Adrianna! Say something?”

  “Is she the vampire who made you?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s very beautiful.”

  “Yes. And very selfish. And cruel. And self-centered.”

  “She loves you.”

  “She doesn’t know what love is.”

  Adrianna shrugged. “And she wants you.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Shaylyn had sought him out from time to time through the centuries, but after the last time, he’d thought himself free of her. He knew now that he had been wrong, that, in Shaylyn’s mind, at least, he would always be hers, subject to her beck and call.

  “Adrianna, I want you to go away for a while. Take a vacation. Go see your parents.”

  “Because of her?”

  Navarre nodded. “I’m afraid for you, afraid of what she might do.”

  Adrianna smiled wryly. “You mean a woman scorned, and all that?”

  “Laugh if you want, but Shaylyn has always been very possessive of those she’s made. She’s angry with me now, and I don’t want you to be caught in the middle.”

  “I’d like to say I’m not afraid, but I am.”

  “You’d be a fool if you weren’t.”

  “I may be afraid, but I’m not leaving.”

  “Annie…”

  “No! I’m not going to run away and let her have you.”

  “Annie, in spite of what I said, I belong to her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s her blood in my veins, her life-force that made me what I am.”

  “That doesn’t mean she owns you.”

  “No, but she’s a very powerful vampire. No one knows how old she is, or if she can even be destroyed. Some say that she no longer has to rest during the day, that she’s immune to the deadly effects of sunlight.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I don’t know.” Navarre frowned. It had taken him almost two thousand years to be able to endure the sun for short periods of time. Shaylyn had existed longer than any vampire he knew. It was possible she no longer needed to seek shelter during the light of day, which made her even more dangerous.

  Adrianna glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected to see Shaylyn hovering nearby.

  “She isn’t here,” Navarre said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Vampires can sense the presence of one of their kind.”

  Adrianna made a sound of disbelief. “If she’s immune to the sun, maybe she’s also able to conceal her presence.”

  Navarre frowned. He hadn’t thought of that, and it worried him. The only edge he had was being able to perceive when she was near.

  “She wouldn’t hurt you, would she?”

  “She can’t hurt me,” he replied, “at least not much.”

  “But she could destroy you.”

  Navarre nodded. There was no doubt of that, especially if she was able to move about when the sun was high in the sky. His only hope was to find a new place to rest until Shaylyn lost interest in him and left town.

  “Navarre?”

  “What?”

  “Do you like being a vampire?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Would you go back to being a mortal, if you could?”

  “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

  “What if there was a cure? Would you use it?”

  “Adrianna, what are you talking about?”

  “I found an old book up in the attic at the store. It was called THE HANDBOOK OF THE UNDEAD. There was a recipe for a cure.”

  A cure! Navarre stared at Adrianna, wondering if such a thing were conceivable. In two thousand years, he had never considered the possibility of being mortal again. And even as he considered it, he knew it held no appeal. He had no wish to grow old and die, no wish to give up the wondrous powers he possessed, especially now, when those powers seemed to be expanding, when he was able to see the sunrise and walk in the morning light. Who could say? Perhaps in another hundred years, it would no longer be necessary for him to hide away during the long hours of the afternoon. Perhaps he’d be able to overcome his need for blood and be able to partake of mortal food again.

  And yet…he stroked Adrianna’s cheek, thinking how wonderful it would be to spend his life at her side, to father her children and watch them grow.

  She was watching him, her eyes wide with apprehension and hope. “You don’t want it, do you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We could be so happy together if you were…”

  “Human?”


  “That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly, though they both knew it was. “It’s just that we can’t have a future together now, I mean, maybe you don’t even want to have a future with me, but, oh, Navarre, I love you so much!”

  “And I love you.”

  “I’m afraid of her.”

  “So am I,” he admitted softly. And he knew that, even if he wanted to, there was no way he could possibly try Adrianna’s cure. Not now, when his strength as a vampire was all that stood between them and Shaylyn’s wrath.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shaylyn walked down Moreno Bay’s narrow main street, heedless of the rain that soaked her skin and clothes.

  He had refused her. For a mortal! It was beyond comprehension. No man had ever refused her. No vampire, either. Except for Navarre. From the moment she had first seen him in the temple on Mikos almost two thousand years ago, she had wanted him, wanted him so badly she had bestowed the Dark Gift upon him. And that night, he had turned his back on her, preferring to go off on his own rather than accompany her on a voyage of discovery.

  And because she was proud, too proud to admit she should have killed him as she had killed all the others, she had abandoned him to his fate, certain he would never survive on his own.

  But he had survived. Survived and grown strong.

  She recalled the months they had spent together eons ago.

  He had been everything she had desired in a companion, everything she needed in a lover. He could be strong. He could be tender. Sometimes he had been cruel, and she had gloried in it. In all of it. There had been times when she had taunted him without mercy, purposefully stirring his rage, delighting in his anger. Their joining, always satisfying, had often been violent, but never dull. He had only one shortcoming, and it was that one weakness that had ruined their relationship.

  Shaylyn crossed the street and kept walking, heading toward the beach, cursing Navarre’s unfailing sympathy for the puny mortals who provided his sustenance. Shaylyn had no qualms about taking what she needed. She was a predator in thought and action. The blood of mortals fueled her existence, and she took it with a single-mindedness that left no room for compassion or pity. At times, she took them quickly and painlessly; at other times, she toyed with them, amused by their puny cries for mercy. Not so Navarre. He took only what he needed and left his victims happily alive.

  Hands clenched, she walked along the beach, oblivious to the chill wind and the rain. Lightning flashed across the heavens, and still she walked, her thoughts turned inward. Navarre.

  His strength troubled her. How could one who drank so sparingly of the sustenance of life grow so strong? Pausing, she stared out at the roiling ocean. Had he grown strong enough to destroy her?

  In her time, she had vanquished dozens of vampires, some made by her own hand. She had killed them without a thought the very instant she began to suspect that their strength, or their cunning, might be a threat.

  Perhaps it would be wise to destroy Navarre, as well.

  * * * * *

  Cloaked from mortal eyes, Shaylyn entered the bookstore. For a time, she stood in the shadows, watching Navarre’s mortal lover as she moved around the store, chatting with customers, opening boxes, placing books on the shelf.

  Did Adrianna know where Navarre took his rest?

  Shaylyn glanced outside. It would be dusk soon. She had spent most of the day searching for Navarre’s resting place. She had gone to Cliff House first, even though she had known he would not be there. The woman’s house had seemed the next likely place, though Shaylyn didn’t expect to find him there, either, and, indeed, she hadn’t.

  She had spent hours exploring the town, poking into deserted beach houses, checking the cemetery, an abandoned warehouse, the cellar of an old church. All in vain. She had detected no sign of Navarre. Had he grown strong enough to cloak his presence from the one who had made him? If so, he was more dangerous than she had imagined.

  She waited until Adrianna closed the shop, then materialized in front of the woman’s startled gaze.

  “Good evening, my dear,” Shaylyn said, pleased by the very real fear she read in the girl’s eyes.

  “Wh-what do you want?”

  “Want? What makes you think I want anything?”

  Adrianna took a step backward, intimated by the fearful glow in the other woman’s eyes, by the evil that radiated from her like smoke from a fire.

  “You needn’t be afraid,” Shaylyn said, backing Adrianna into a corner. “I mean you no harm.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Of course not. You’re Navarre’s friend, aren’t you?”

  Adrianna nodded.

  “Of course you are! You needn’t worry. I just wanted to see him for a few days. Navarre and I are old friends. Very old friends.”

  Adrianna cowered against the wall, her gaze trapped in the web of Shaylyn’s stare.

  “Nothing to be afraid of,” Shaylyn purred as she took Adrianna’s hand in hers. “Such lovely hands,” she mused, rolling up the sleeve of Adrianna’s sweater. “Such smooth skin. Nothing at all to be afraid of, my dear. We’re going to be good friends, you and I.”

  “Friends,” Adrianna repeated.

  “Yes,” Shaylyn said. “Relax, Adrianna. It will be over in a moment, and you will remember nothing save that I came here to ask for your friendship.”

  “My friendship.” Adrianna felt a sharp prick as Shaylyn bent over the bend of her elbow.

  “That’s right, my dear. We’re going to be good friends now, aren’t we?”

  Adrianna blinked at the other woman, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

  “Only that I must be going. I’m so glad we’ve cleared things up between us. Give my love to Navarre when you see him.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “And tell him I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to see him again, but I’ve decided to go to Paris. My plane leaves at seven.”

  “Seven.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Adrianna said, but she was talking to the air. The woman was already gone.

  * * * * *

  “She said what?”

  “She said to tell you she was going to Paris, and that she was sorry she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

  Navarre frowned. Could it possibly be true? Had Shaylyn really left town? It seemed unlikely, and yet… “Did she say anything about coming back?”

  “No.” Adrianna smiled up at him. “I missed you today.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  “I’m going to get a cup of coffee,” she said, taking him by the hand and walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  Navarre nodded. Sitting down at the table, he watched Adrianna move about the tiny kitchen. After pouring him a glass of wine, she nuked a cup of instant coffee, then sat down at the table across from him.

  “So,” he said, his gaze intent upon her face, “what did you do today?”

  Adrianna shrugged. “Nothing much. It was slow for a Friday. Have you given any more thought to what we talked about the other night?”

  “You mean my becoming human again?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “No. I’m not sure it’s something I want.”

  “Oh.” She looked away, but not before he saw the hurt, the disappointment, in her eyes.

  “Annie…”

  “Maybe we’d better stop seeing each other.”

  “Annie!”

  She shook her head, annoyed by the tears that filled her eyes. “I can’t just be your lover, Navarre. I want something more out of a relationship than just…just sex.”

  “Dammit, Annie, we have more than that, and you know it.”

  “I know.” She looked up at him then, her eyes dark with tears. “But I’m going to grow old. What then? How will you feel when I start to look like your mother?”

  “Annie, dammit, Annie, I…”

  �
�I couldn’t stand that, Navarre. I’d rather end it now.”

  Navarre stood up, his hands clenched at his sides. She was right, he thought bitterly. It was better to end it now, before she got hurt.

  “Goodbye, Adrianna,” he said quietly.

  She stared after him, too numb to think, and then a voice echoed inside her mind, sharp and demanding. You little fool! Don’t let him go. Tell him you love him, that you want to be like him. Ask him to show you where he sleeps. Tell him you want the Dark Gift so that you can be his forever.

  His hand was at the front door, reaching for the latch, when he heard her voice calling his name.

  “Navarre! Navarre! Wait, don’t go!”

  He turned around, opening his arms to catch her as she flew down the hallway toward him.

  “Don’t leave me!” she cried. “I didn’t mean it!”

  “Annie!” His arms closed around her, holding her tight, pressing her against him so that their bodies touched from shoulder to thigh.

  “We can work it out,” she said. She lifted her face to his, her eyes awash with tears. “Make me what you are,” she whispered. “I want to be with you, only you, forever.”

  “Annie, no.”

  “Yes! Please, Navarre, do it now!”

  Eyes narrowed, he stared down at her, his mind probing hers, but he detected no sign that she had been initiated. And still he hesitated. He would be a fool to underestimate Shaylyn.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Do you mean it?”

  Her reply was quick and certain. “I’m sure.”

  Frowning, Navarre brushed her hair aside, his gaze skimming her throat. No puncture marks marred the perfection of her skin.

  “Please, Navarre?”

  It was hard to resist when she was looking at him like that, her eyes dewy with tears, her lips slightly parted, her expression filled with trust and desire.

  He rested his brow on the top of her head. “Think about it for a while, Annie,” he remarked softly. “There’s no hurry.”

  “But I want to be like you. I want to sleep where you sleep, and wake up in your arms.”

  It was tempting, so tempting. In two thousand years, he had never made another vampire. Never loved a woman other than Katlaina.