SUNLIGHT, MOONLIGHT

by Amanda Ashley

  "You've done well, my foolish little mortal," Shaylyn said smugly. "And now you will finish what you have begun."

  Adrianna stared up at the vampire woman. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean to destroy him, and you shall be the instrument of his destruction."

  "No!"

  "Oh, yes."

  "I won't. You can't make me."

  "Can't I?" Eyes narrowed, Shaylyn stared at Adrianna. Her lips curled back in a hideous smile as Adrianna dropped to the ground and began to writhe in pain.

  "Shaylyn," Navarre rasped. "Leave her alone." He swayed on his feet as the darkness sought to enfold him. "Why are you doing this?"

  "You're a threat to me, Navarre. I haven't survived this long by being foolish. Your powers are too strong."

  "No." He stared at Adrianna. She was curled into a fetal position, her hands pressed to her head, her mouth open in a silent scream of agony. "Let her go."

  "Does it bother you to watch her?"

  "Shaylyn, I'll do whatever you want. Only leave her alone. She's done nothing to you."

  "She took you from me."

  "No." He closed his eyes, willing the darkness away. But he could feel himself growing ever weaker as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

  "Stand up, Adrianna," Shaylyn demanded.

  Adrianna tried to refuse, but her limbs moved with a will of their own. Her legs felt as though they were weighted with lead as she went to stand beside Shaylyn.

  "Take this," Shaylyn said, and thrust a knife into Adrianna's hands. The handle was of thick wood, the blade was long and slender and made of pure silver. "When I tell you to, you will cut out his heart and throw it into the fire."

  Adrianna tried to refuse, but no words passed her lips.

  Shaylyn glanced at the blankets that had served as Navarre's bed, her nostrils flaring, her eyes narrowing. A moment later, the bedding burst into flame.

  Navarre felt the heat of the fire at his back, but he didn't take his gaze from Adrianna. Powerless to move or speak, she stared back at him, her eyes filled with a silent plea for help.

  Slowly, deliberately, Shaylyn took hold of Navarre and forced him down to the ground. Exerting her superior strength, she crouched behind him, her hands pinning his shoulders to the ground.

  "Now, Adrianna," she commanded.

  "Navarre…" His name escaped Adrianna's lips even as she moved toward him. "No," she whimpered. "Please don't make me."

  But even as she begged Shaylyn for mercy, Adrianna was kneeling beside Navarre. She stared at her hand as if it belonged to someone else, watched in numbed horror as the hand lifted the knife.

  Summoning every ounce of will she possessed, she dragged her gaze from the blade and looked down into Navarre's eyes. There was no condemnation in his deep gray eyes, only a deep and abiding expression of love and understanding. And forgiveness.

  "Do it!" Shaylyn's voice cut across the stillness.

  Tears filled Adrianna's eyes as she tried to resist. But she had no will of her own, no power to refuse. Her hand tightened around the handle of the knife as she prepared to plunge it into Navarre's chest.

  "I love you, Annie," Navarre whispered, and closed his eyes as the knife arrowed toward his chest.

  Time seemed to slow as the knife descended toward Navarre's heart. His voice, his words, rang in Adrianna's ears, stronger and louder than the screech of Shaylyn's command.

  Drawing from the wellspring of Navarre's love, Adrianna launched herself at Shaylyn, shuddering with horror as she drove the blade into the other woman's breast.

  Shaylyn shrieked with pain and outrage as the knife pierced her flesh. Cursing loudly, she grabbed Adrianna by the shoulders, holding her in a vice-like grip as she buried her fangs in Adrianna's throat.

  Blood spurted across Navarre's face, hot and warm. His blood, he thought, and wondered why there was no pain.

  It took all his strength to open his eyes, to drag himself out of the arms of the darkness.

  Shaylyn and Adrianna were locked together in a violent struggle, each trying to wrest the knife from the other. Blood spurted from a deep gash in Shaylyn's left breast. A crimson tide gouted from a hideous wound in Adrianna's throat.

  He knew in an instant that somehow Annie had found the inner strength to defy Shaylyn's command, that she had turned the knife on the vampire, and that she was going to lose her own life in trying to save his.

  Feeling as though he were moving through thick mud, he struggled to his feet and lunged forward, his hand grabbing for the knife.

  The silver seared his skin even as the blade sliced into his hand, but he ignored the pain as he wrenched the knife from Adrianna's grasp and plunged it into Shaylyn's breast again, cutting the heart from her body, flinging it into the fire.

  A scream unlike anything he had ever heard filled the air, and then Shaylyn was falling, weightless, lifeless, to the ground.

  With a feral cry of triumph, Navarre tossed the bloody corpse into the flames.

  Staggering, he made his way to Adrianna's side. Dropping to his knees, he gathered her into his arms and pressed his hand to the wound in her throat. Her blood was hot against his palm, her blood mingling with his. Unable to help himself, he bent his head and licked the blood from her neck. Its heat, its life-giving force, burned into him, strengthened him, driving away the darkness.

  "Annie! Annie, can you hear me?"

  "Navarre… ?"

  "I'm here." He stared into her face, willing her to open her eyes. "Don't leave me."

  "I'm… sorry…" Her voice, low and weak, seemed to come from far away.

  "It wasn't your fault. Annie! Please, Annie, don't leave me."

  Blood. So much blood. The scent of it was all around him, seeping into his pores, filling his nostrils, tempting him to finish what Shaylyn had started.

  "Annie, help me!"

  Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared up at him, her gaze unfocused. Death lurked in the shadowed depths of her eyes.

  "Am I… going to…" She swallowed. "To die?"

  Navarre nodded, unable to speak, unable to lie to her.

  "Want to stay…with you."

  "Annie, tell me what to do."

  "Do?"

  She was dying. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, the life was fading from her eyes.

  "Forgive me," he whispered, and letting her head fall back over his arm, he pressed his mouth to the hideous wound in her neck, felt the sweet, salty taste of her blood as it flowed into him and through him.

  He drank deeply, absorbing her life, her essence. Her pulse slowed, her heartbeat grew faint as her strength ebbed, flowing into him, renewing him.

  Sated, he lifted his head and gazed down into her face, now drained of all color.

  "Forgive me," he murmured again, and pressed his mouth to her throat once more, stealing away the last precious drops of life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She opened her eyes to a blinding white light, and quickly closed them again. She was dead, she thought sadly, and all the stories were true. There really was a white light. And voices…

  "Annie? Annie!"

  She gasped as she was swept into a pair of strong arms.

  "Annie…"

  Navarre's voice, calling to her, pleading with her to… what?

  She opened her eyes again and saw his face hovering over her, his deep gray eyes filled with concern. And regret.

  "Navarre? Am I dead?"

  He shook his head as he brushed a lock of hair from her brow. "No."

  "What is it?" she asked. "You look so…" She shrugged, unable to decipher the expression in his eyes.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Feel?" She glanced around, her gaze mesmerized by the glow of the candle, by the colors trapped in the dancing flame, by the blue-gray smoke that spiraled upward. Realizing that it was the candlelight that had blinded her, she frowned, wondering why it seemed so bright, wondering why she had never before noticed how many colors could be seen in a single fl
ame.

  "Annie?"

  "I feel fine. A little strange… what happened? Where's Shaylyn?"

  "She's dead."

  "She is?" Adrianna frowned, searching her mind for some recollection of what had happened. "She wanted me to kill you…"

  Adrianna sat up, her hands moving over Navarre's chest. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes. Are you?"

  "Why do you keep asking me that? I'm fine. I…" Slowly, she raised her hand to her throat. "She bit me… I cut her with the knife, and she bit me. I was bleeding, dying…" Her voice rose in panic. "Navarre, what happened?"

  "You were dying," he said, refusing to meet her eyes. "Bleeding to death. I… Adrianna, forgive me, but I couldn't let you go. I've been alone for so long, and I love you so much. I… I took your blood."

  "My blood?"

  He nodded, hoping she would understand. "I took your blood, Annie. I drained you to the point of death. And then I gave it back to you."

  "You took my blood?" Her eyes widened with comprehension. "You made me what she was. What you are."

  "Can you forgive me?"

  "I don't know."

  "I'll take care of you, Annie, I swear it. You won't have to hunt. You won't have to kill. You can exist off my blood."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I've never made another vampire. My blood is very strong, very powerful. When you feel the lust for blood, I'll give you a little of mine." He smiled sadly at her look of revulsion. "Mixed with wine, it's not so bad. It will sustain you."

  "I can't be a vampire," Adrianna exclaimed. "What will my mother say?"

  Navarre's brow furrowed. "Annie…"

  She felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in her throat, and then deflate, like a balloon pricked by a pin.

  "I'm a vampire." She shook her head. It was incomprehensible. And yet she knew it was true. She could feel the increased power in her limbs. Her senses were alive as never before. She could hear distant sounds, see through the darkness as if it were day.

  And Navarre was there beside her. She could hear the steady beat of his heart, feel his apprehension, his concern. His love.

  And then, to her delight, she discovered she could read his thoughts.

  Forgive me, Annie. I never meant to hurt you. I know it was selfish of me to bring you over without your permission, but I couldn't let you go. Please, forgive me. I have no excuse, except that I love you. …

  I forgive you, Navarre. And I love you, too.

  With a start, he rose to his feet. Are you reading my mind?

  Joy bubbled up inside her. Yes. I can't seem to help myself. Do you mind?

  "I don't mind," he said, stroking her cheek. "My heart, my thoughts, my life, they're all yours, my darling Annie, to do with as you wish. We're bonded now, by blood."

  "And by love."

  "You're not sorry, then?" he asked.

  She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. "No."

  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard. She couldn't be sorry, not when it meant she could spend a lifetime, a hundred lifetimes, with Navarre.

  She let her fingers curl into the hair at his nape. "Besides, if I ever decide I want to be mortal, I can always try that recipe I found."

  "Annie." What a wonder she was! He had expected a variety of reactions from her: fear, disgust, regret, hatred. He had not expected acceptance, or humor, and he knew, without doubt, that he could not live without her. "If you ever decide to try to regain your mortality, we'll try it together. Now, if you want."

  She smiled up at him. "Right now, all I want is you. My love, my life."

  He whispered her name as his arms drew her close. She'd never been more beautiful, he thought. And she was his. For now and for always, she was his.

  Together, they would explore her new world.

  Together, he thought, sweeping her into his arms.

  Together.

  Forever.