Moonshade (Vampire Conclave: Book 1)

by S. J. West

  List of Books in the Watcher Series

  The Watchers Trilogy

  Cursed

  Blessed

  Forgiven

  The Watcher Chronicles

  Broken

  Kindred

  Oblivion

  Ascension

  Caylin’s Story

  Timeless

  Devoted

  Aiden’s Story

  The Alternate Earth Series

  Cataclysm

  Uprising

  Judgment

  The Redemption Series

  Malcolm

  Anna

  Lucifer

  Redemption

  The Dominion Series

  Awakening

  Reckoning

  Enduring

  Other Books by S. J. West

  The Harvester of Light Trilogy

  Harvester

  Hope

  Dawn

  The Vankara Saga

  Vankara

  Dragon Alliance

  War of Atonement

  Vampire Conclave

  Moonshade

  Sentinel (Coming 2017)

  ©2017 S. J. West. All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  It all started about two weeks ago. I woke up one morning, feeling anxious about something. It’s just like the feeling I used to get when I was a kid on Christmas mornings. I would want to rush downstairs as soon as I woke up to see what Jolly Old Saint Nick had left me underneath the Christmas tree, but I knew I had to wait for my parents to wake up or Santa might not be as generous the next year. That’s the exact same feeling I have right now. Like there’s a present somewhere just waiting for me to discover it. The only obstacles are: one, I have no idea what it is and two, I have no clue where to start looking for it. My heart literally feels like it will shrivel up inside my chest if I don’t discover the whereabouts of my secret gift, but my mind is a complete blank as to where I should begin my search.

  I decide to tell my best friend, Kaylee, how I’m feeling. I always thought Kaylee and I could pass for sisters. We’re the same age, and have the same oval face and high cheekbones. Her hair is a bright shade of red cut in a cute short, layered style; whereas mine is long and a dark auburn color. She has green eyes, and I have brown eyes. She’s a cute, petite 5’4” and I’m almost 5’7”. Well, on second thought, maybe we don’t look that much alike, but we were raised as sisters, so that should count for something.

  When I was ten years old, Kaylee and I had a sleepover at her house. The next morning I learned the home I shared with my parents caught on fire, destroying not only the house I grew up in but also my life. After the death of my parents, Kaylee’s folks went through the legal hassle of adopting me. Since I have no living relatives, they saved me from being swallowed up by the foster care system and raised me in a loving home where I was truly a part of the family. The Hugheses weren’t rich by any standards, but they always made sure Kaylee and I never wanted for anything important. We lived in a quaint neighborhood at the end of a cul-de-sac in a nice ranch-style home with the obligatory minivan parked in the driveway.

  The first year after the loss of my parents was a tough one for me. If it hadn’t been for the unconditional love the Hugheses supported me with, I’m not sure how my life would have turned out. It’s quite possible I could have ended up living on the street if the state had tried to shuffle me around between different foster homes. I count my lucky stars every day that I was blessed with the perfect people to help me cope with my grief.

  After Kaylee and I graduated from college with our degrees in education, she married her high school sweetheart. Ever since we were children, Kaylee has always written stories and dabbled in poetry. With her love of the English language, she decided to be a high school English teacher. I, on the other hand, was always drawn to science and the logic behind how things work, so I decided to be a biology teacher. We were lucky enough to both find jobs at the Pecan Acres Junior High School. Yesterday was our last day of the spring term, which ended up being perfect timing for me. I’m not sure I could have concentrated on my classes, considering my current state of mind.

  Kaylee’s gained a lot of weight in the past seven months, but I guess she has a good excuse. She is growing little Emma Louise after all. The only problem with trying to discuss things with a pregnant woman is that her responses seem completely driven by the raging hormones running rampant inside her body.

  “Maybe this anxious feeling you’re having means you’re about to find the love of your life,” she enthuses excitedly while we sit at her kitchen table. “You know, your horoscope for this month said you would meet new and interesting people.”

  “I don’t believe in that mumbo jumbo. You know that,” I tell her, absently playing with my half-empty cup of coffee on the table. Even though this is supposed to be a relaxing Saturday morning breakfast with my sister, I’m unable to shake the uneasy feeling that I’m supposed to be somewhere else more important.

  “Sarah, you need a man in your life,” she sighs.

  Kaylee and I have had this discussion at least twice a month since she became the poster woman for marital bliss. She is determined to have me engaged by my twenty-fourth birthday. Luckily, that means I have precisely a year before she goes into super psycho matchmaker mode.

  “I wish you could find someone like my Ben,” she says with a dreamy look on her face.

  Ben Whitaker is Kaylee’s husband. We all went to high school and college together. Ben and I never really hit it off. We only tolerate one another because we have to share Kaylee, but I have to give him props. He does make my sister extremely happy, and that’s all that matters in the long run.

  “You got lucky,” I tell her, feeling a small unwelcome pang of jealousy. “Not everyone can find the person they’re meant to marry when they’re sixteen.”

  Kaylee places a comforting hand over the one I have resting on the table beside my cup of coffee. “There’s someone out there meant just for you. I know it.”

  “Ever the optimist.” I try to smile, but my facial expression doesn’t quite make it that far.

  “One of us has to be where your love life is concerned.”

  I finish my coffee and make up an excuse about needing to restock my kitchen with groceries.

  “Hey, would you mind telling me how Emma is feeling today before you leave?”

  I can’t help but smile at Kaylee’s constant desire to be reassured her baby is emotionally well-adjusted. However, I guess if I had access to that kind of information about my own unborn child, I would want to know too.

  Ever since I can remember, I’ve always been able to sense what other people are feeling. I’m sort of like Deanna Troi on Star Trek, an empath. Sometimes it’s a real pain in the ass sensing the emotional states of strangers, but the certainty of knowing the people you love the most love you back just as fiercely is priceless. I’ve learned how to dampen my ability when I need to, if for no other reason than to just keep my sanity intact. There are some real weirdos out in the general population. The world is a much happier place wh
en I don’t know they’re out there.

  I put my hand on Kaylee’s bulging belly. Normally, I don’t have to touch someone to know what they’re feeling, but since little Emma is still safely snuggled inside her mother’s womb I need the extra closeness to distinguish Em’s feelings from Kaylee’s.

  “She’s happy,” I report, cherishing the pure, innocent emotions emanating from my little niece. “And she loves her mommy very much.”

  Kaylee smiles and places her hand over the one I still have on her bump. “Thank you.”

  I bend over and kiss Kaylee on the cheek before turning back around to grab my purse off the table.

  “Don’t forget, we’re taking you out for your birthday tonight. So don’t eat a big lunch,” Kaylee sternly orders.

  I roll my eyes at her. “How could I forget? You’ve been reminding me every day for a month now about our big secret adventure. What do you have planned?”

  “If I wanted you to know, I would have told you a month ago. Just make sure you wear that dress you wore to the faculty dinner.”

  “So we’re going somewhere fancy?” I ask, doing my best to glean some tidbit of information about her plans.

  “Stop trying to make me tell you anything, birthday girl. Just do what the pregnant woman says so you make her happy.”

  “As you wish, Princess Butterball.” I bow in Kaylee’s direction, and get hit in the head with a wadded-up paper towel.

  “Ohhh, just you wait,” Kaylee says like a portent of doom, narrowing her eyes and pointing her index finger at me. “When you’re as big as a house with your first child, I’ll remember you called me that.”

  I laugh and wink at her before heading down the hallway to the front door.

  “And try to take a nap this afternoon!” she yells at my back. “We’re going to be out late!”

  I wave my hand over my head as I make my way out the door so she knows I heard her. After I get into my newly purchased silver Toyota Camry, I crank the engine and end up sitting in Kaylee’s driveway for a good five minutes, trying to decide where it is I want to go. I don’t really need groceries. I haven’t been able to eat that much in the past two weeks. In fact, I haven’t slept that much either. If I can just figure out why I have this feeling that I’m supposed to be somewhere specific, maybe I can get back on track and start living normally again.

  I put my car into drive and take off down the road, having absolutely no idea where I’m going, which is so unlike me. I always plan things out before I do them. Kaylee often picks on me for my obsessive-compulsive disorder, but I know she appreciates my organizational skills, especially when it comes to planning parties and vacations. She doesn’t have to think about anything when we’re traveling together. All she has to do is enjoy all my hard work. But, it really isn’t work to me. I feel happier when I know specifically what it is I need to do. I suppose that’s why I feel so unhappy right now. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know how to plan for something I can’t figure out.

  I decide to drive around town for a bit to take my mind off my problem. Pecan Acres is a small city in Louisiana, no more than eighteen-thousand people living within its limits. If we want to go to a big city, New Orleans is only an hour away. My town has the basics: restaurants, a mall, a movie theater and, of course, every small town’s staple of survival, a Super Wal-Mart.

  I find myself driving down Bayou Road where the new and old moneyed families live. Some of the houses are old-style antebellum-era homes built in the Greek revival style, and some are newer, more up-to-date versions trying to imitate the historical homes but failing miserably. Personally, I prefer the older mansions. They have a sense of history locked into every nook and cranny, unlike the new construction, which just seem like expensive wannabe knock-offs to me.

  I feel an unexplainable urge to pull off to the side of the road in front of one of the older homes. It’s a custom-built red brick mansion with grand Georgian scroll molding over the front door and four large Greek Corinthian white columns lining the front porch. My anxious feeling seems to subside somewhat as I continue to study the manor. I’m not sure why, but I feel a violent urge to run up to the front door and barge inside. There’s something in there pulling at me, compelling me to throw common sense out the window and simply follow my instincts. Before I completely lose my mind and do something I’ll regret later, I shift my car back into drive and head to my apartment.

  When I finally make it home that afternoon, I try to do what Kaylee suggested and take a nap. I end up tossing and turning in bed until it’s time for me to get ready for my big night out with her and Ben. I pull out the dress she wants me to wear from my closet to see if it needs to be ironed. Luckily it doesn’t. If there is one thing I hate doing in this world, it’s ironing clothes. It’s a little black knit dress with a twisted halter empire bodice and short skirt that comes to just above my knees. It’s a simple outfit but formal enough to wear to a nice restaurant.

  As usual, Kaylee and Ben are late picking me up. Ben knocks on my apartment door almost thirty minutes after the time Kaylee said they would be there.

  When I open the door, I smile politely at Ben who is dressed in a nice baby blue button-down shirt and khaki slacks.

  “Better late than never, right?” I joke.

  “You know how she can get,” Ben grins. “We can’t leave the house if she has a hair out of place. Are you ready?”

  I grab my small black purse from the coat tree and lock the front door before I step out. I follow Ben back to the new family vehicle he and Kaylee just purchased in expectation of Em’s arrival, a silver Dodge Durango.

  “I’m pregnant,” Kaylee uses as an excuse for their tardiness as I slip into the back seat behind Ben’s. “I move a lot slower now.”

  “You know that excuse isn’t going to work after you have the baby,” I tease her, buckling my seat belt.

  “By then she’ll have moved on to ‘It’s the baby’s fault’.” Ben chuckles as Kaylee playfully slaps him on the arm.

  “You two need to be nicer to me.” Kaylee sticks her bottom lip out to garner our sympathy. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “We both love you more than anyone else in the world,” I tell her. “So stop pouting.”

  Kaylee sticks her tongue out at me, but I know she isn’t offended by our teasing. Plus, she likes being reminded how important she is to both Ben and me.

  “So, can you tell me what my birthday surprise is now?” I ask.

  Kaylee turns her head to look back at me. “We’re going to New Orleans and eating at Arnaud’s. Then we’re takin’ you dancing at a new club on Bourbon Street!”

  “Seriously?” I must have heard her wrong, right? “You’re actually taking me clubbing in your condition?”

  “My doctor said it would be ok as long as I took it easy. So, don’t worry, mother hen. Little Em and I will be just fine. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet somebody while we’re out and about.”

  I shake my head in exasperation but remain mute on the subject. I turn my head to watch the passing scenery outside the window. Unfortunately, there’s not much to keep my eyes busy on the highway besides pine trees and the occasional swamp. I don’t want to argue with Kaylee when she’s trying to do something nice for me on my birthday. Although, I can already tell she’s going to be in full matchmaker mode this evening. I just can’t believe she’s actually thinking about pawning me off on some random stranger at a bar! I hang my head and silently pray for divine intervention. I would like to be spared any embarrassment on my birthday, but the odds of that happening don’t seem to be in my favor.

  The food at the restaurant is probably wonderful. To be honest, I can’t really tell. I haven’t been able to taste food for two weeks. I almost feel guilty for not being able to enjoy my meal since I know the entrees are on the expensive side at this restaurant. I hate not being able to enjoy the filet mignon I ordered. I’m sure if things were normal it would have tasted like a little slice of heaven in my mouth. To b
e totally honest, I’m relieved when dinner is finally over.

  By the time we leave the restaurant, it’s already ten o’clock.

  “Shouldn’t we just head home?” I ask them as we stroll down a crowded Bourbon Street. Saturday night in New Orleans probably isn’t the best time to come with a pregnant woman. I try to play defense and walk in front of Kaylee so people who aren’t paying attention to where they’re going, or are simply too drunk to care, run into me first.

  “No, we’re going dancing,” Kaylee states in her ‘don’t you dare argue with me’ voice.

  We end up at a nightclub called the Cat’s Coven. Kaylee knows I’m not much of a dancer. It’s not that I can’t dance. I just don’t like to dance in public. From the way the people inside the club are acting, you would think it was everyone’s birthday and not just mine. There’s a raised wood dancefloor in the middle of the room. It’s so full of gyrating bodies I don’t see how Kaylee expects to survive within the crush of people. There’s a DJ playing music on his own platform against a sidewall. A full bar made of mirrors is located at the back end of the room and is swarming with needy patrons trying to purchase beverages. Kaylee and I sit at one of the small, stool-high tables near the dance floor while Ben fights the crowd to get us some drinks.

  I’m not much for imbibing in alcohol, but I do enjoy the occasional Crown and Coke. Ben brings one back for me, a Corona for himself, and a ginger ale for our Kaylee.

  I’m about halfway through my drink when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Someone is staring at me. Usually when I’m in a crowd of people, I block my empathic ability so I’m not bombarded by a multitude of mixed emotions all at once. For some reason, I’m not able to block out the emotions of this particular person. Their feelings are a jumbled mess, but the one that stands out the most is hunger. It’s not a sexual hunger, either. No, this is more primal than even that. It’s almost as if this person wants to eat me alive, literally. What in the world is that supposed to mean?