Until the Sun Falls From the Sky

  Until the Sun Falls from the Sky

  Title Page

  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

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Until the Sun Falls from the Sky

  Kristen Ashley

  Published by Kristen Ashley at Smashwords

  Copyright 2012 Kristen Ashley

  Discover other titles by Kristen Ashley:

  Rock Chick Series:

  Rock Chick

  Rock Chick Rescue

  Rock Chick Redemption

  Rock Chick Renegade

  Rock Chick Revenge

  Rock Chick Reckoning

  Rock Chick Regret

  The ‘Burg Series:

  For You

  At Peace

  Golden Trail

  The Colorado Mountain Series:

  The Gamble

  Sweet Dreams

  Lady Luck

  Dream Man Series:

  Mystery Man

  Wild Man

  Law Man

  The Fantasyland Series:

  Wildest Dreams

  The Golden Dynasty

  Fantastical

  Other Titles by Kristen Ashley:

  Fairytale Come Alive

  Heaven and Hell

  Lacybourne Manor

  Mathilda, SuperWitch

  Penmort Castle

  Play It Safe

  Sommersgate House

  Three Wishes

  www.kristenashley.net

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  *****

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Stephanie Redman Smith, my bestie since forever.

  Mainly because she likes her vampires, her scary movies and her hot guys.

  And I like her.

  Acknowledgement

  Another big, fat shout out to Chasity Jenkins. You know what you do, girl, all you do and it isn’t just helping me decide which shoes to buy online. Thanks for keeping me sane.

  *****

  Chapter One

  The Selection

  My dress was blood red.

  This, I thought, was farcical. I mean blood red? Were they serious?

  “Smile. Be nice. Respectful. Always respectful. Remember, you’re representing the Buchanans,” my mother at my side whispered urgently to me. Her eyes did not leave the length of the hall and her bearing was stiff as we walked side-by-side.

  She was nervous and excited. Unbearably so.

  It was driving me nuts.

  I didn’t need her to say this to me. Since I’d received my invitation to The Selection she’d been coaxing me, coaching me and constantly reminding me that I was a Buchanan and what that meant.

  Like I’d ever forget.

  In fact, since I was told when I was thirteen what being a female Buchanan meant, I’d never forgotten. Not one word. They were burned on my brain.

  I didn’t answer her, just stared down the long hall.

  It was, as it would be, lush but spooky. A dark gray carpet runner flanked by polished dark wood floors. Matching gray walls with pristine white cornices and ceilings. Every six or seven feet a small, exquisite sconce dripping crystals was affixed to the wall, enough of them to light the way but not enough of them to take away the shadows. Much further apart along the walls there were doors, all of them closed. At one end was the elevator we rode down however many stories and at the other end was the door to where we were heading.

  And in between it was a long walk.

  Way too long in blood red satin shoes with a pencil thin heel and an ankle strap that was so dainty it threatened to break with every step I took.

  “I think these shoes were a bad idea,” I grumbled under my breath to my mother.

  “Leah…” she started in the warning mother tone I’d heard her use with me many a time over the years.

  “No seriously, I fear a massive shoe incident. The Buchanans can’t have a massive shoe incident, not at something as important as A Selection. What would that do to our reputation?”

  “Don’t worry about your shoes. Your shoes will be fine.”

  “No, I don’t think they will. I think we should leave, find me another pair of shoes and come back,” I suggested.

  “You don’t have another pair of shoes that would be appropriate.”

  She was right about that. Who owned two pairs of sexy, seven hundred dollar, blood red evening shoes?

  “Well then, maybe we’ll talk to the powers that be and say I couldn’t make it due to possible shoe failure and could I have another go at the next Selection.”

  At my words, her head whipped to face me and she looked panicked. This freaked me out more than I was already freaked out at the very prospect of the evening’s festivities.

  “You have to attend this Selection. For you, there is no other Selection,” she hissed, not angry. She was frantic.

  So frantic that out of habit, even though I didn’t understand her anxiety, I found myself soothing her. “Okay, Mom. I’ll work these shoes. It’ll be all right.”

  She took in a deep breath and turned again to face the hall. So did I.

  That proved it. She’d been beside herself with glee and, strangely, nerves when I got my invitation. Not because everyone in my entire family thought I’d never get an invitation to A Selection (and I’d been hoping, since I found out who my family was and what they did, that they’d be right) but because I’d received one to this Selection.

  Though she’d never explained.

  “Mom, is there something…?”

  I didn’t finish. We were five feet away from the door at the end of the hall. It opened, a man in evening dress stepped out and closed it behind him.

  I stared at him in shock.

  He had to be seven feet all, very thin, his head shiny and bald. He had a heavy, protruding forehead, no eyebrows, big, dark eyes and long, long limbs that matched his height. His hands were incredibly long and thin, longer than even his body demanded, with slender fingers and knobby knuckles.

  Although he was an unusual looking man, he was somehow alluring, even handsome.

  His eyes went directly to my mother and he smiled with genuine warmth. He had beautiful, white, strong, even teeth.

  Oh my God. Was this what vampires looked like?

  At the sight of him, my step had stuttered. My mother put her hand on my elbow to propel us forward the last few feet to stop in front of him.

  “Avery,” she greeted and smiled up at him.

  “Lydia.” He took her hand, bent low and brushed it against his lips. “It’s always a pleasure,” he went on after dropping her hand. “I hear our Lana is faring well.”


  He knew my sister, Lana. And he knew she was faring well.

  This was true. Lana had been to her Selection three years ago. She’d been selected, according to my mother, within minutes of arrival. She’d done very well for the Buchanans; a vampire of some status had chosen her. She was still in her Arrangement with the vampire who selected her without any hint she’d be released.

  This was unusual. I’d been told after I received my invitation which heralded the time new secrets could be shared that Arrangements lasted on average two to three years before the vampire released his or her concubine and moved on. Any Arrangement that lasted longer than that was known to be particularly successful.

  The Buchanan women for five hundred years had made a habit of such accomplishments. My mother’s Arrangement had lasted seven years. She was practically a legend. At least that was what my Aunt Millicent told me with some envy, her Arrangement had lasted four and three quarter years. The “and three quarters” was a very important addition to Aunt Millicent.

  I’d never met Lana’s vampire. As an Uninitiated, I wasn’t allowed. I didn’t even know his name. I had seen Lana countless times since her Selection. She was ecstatically happy though she couldn’t tell me why, it was plain to see she was.

  “And this is Leah,” Avery said, his words low, giving me the strange impression there was some meaning to them outside of the fact that I was, indeed, Leah.

  He’d taken me out of my thoughts and my eyes focused on him to see he was studying me and had his large hand extended toward me, palm up.

  My mother nudged me.

  I put my hand in his and he brought it up, brushed his lips against it and then his grip tightened. He didn’t let go as he looked in my eyes.

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  Again, there was more meaning to this. More than me being a Buchanan, the first concubine family that put their name to the Immortal and Mortal Agreement five hundred years ago. More than me being the Legendary Lydia’s daughter. More than just common courtesy.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice soft and not my own mainly because he was freaking me out even more.

  He smiled at me, dropped my hand and looked at my mother. “Lucien will be very pleased.”

  My mother dipped her head down and looked at Avery under her lashes before she murmured, “I hope so.”

  What was this? Who was Lucien and why would he be pleased?

  “Who’s…?” I started but Avery’s long arm swept out, cutting off my question.

  He caught both me and my mother in its length and turned. He opened the wide heavy door with no apparent effort and gently led us through.

  I blinked at the sudden light.

  “Lydia Buchanan, Distinguished,” Avery bellowed from behind us, “and Leah Buchanan, Uninitiated!”

  The soft murmur of party conversation suddenly silenced at his words. Everyone turned to stare.

  I stared back.

  There was a lot to stare at. Too much. I couldn’t take it all in.

  The room was oval. It was opulent. I’d never seen anything like its simple finery.

  Rich, blood red walls, again with the white cornices and ceilings, no windows as we were well below the earth’s surface. No paintings, no mirrors, just lots and lots of deep, blood red. An enormous oval chandelier illuminated the room, its millions of crystals dancing prisms of light everywhere. There was a plush, blood red, oval carpet on the floor that didn’t reach the edges of the room and you could see the dark, gleaming wood at the sides.

  There were people there, maybe a hundred, maybe more. Even with that many people the room was far from filled it was so large. Everyone was wearing black, like my mother. The men in black evening dress with sparkling white shirts. The distinguished ex-concubines (or mothers, aunts or grandmothers of the Uninitiated) in glamorous black gowns. The female vampires, appearing much younger than the males but no less elegant, also in black gowns.

  There were maybe only a dozen women wearing blood red gowns amongst the group and I noticed that my gown was different.

  This, I realized instantly, was a tactical error on my part. Even though I was one in only a few who wore blood red, I was going to stand out.

  I didn’t want to stand out. I didn’t want to be selected.

  Damn it all to hell.

  I’d put my foot down about the gown. Not that my mother wanted me to wear what some of the other Uninitiated were wearing. However she’d wanted a little more dazzle, which I thought would bring unwanted attention to myself not to mention, I wasn’t a dazzle type of person.

  The others had gone full on dazzle. Unbelievable amounts of jewels at their necks, wrists, ears, elaborate up-dos with sparkling gems affixed in their hair. Eye catching dresses from wide-skirted, Southern-Belle-on-a-rampage to daringly displayed skin (mostly cleavage and lots of it) to sequined affairs that probably weighed half a ton.

  Every single dress, every single jewel, every twisted curl pinned high up on someone’s head screamed pick me!

  My dress was satin, snug-fitting at the bodice, waist and hips. It had a long skirt that was cut on the bias and hung beautifully when I was still and swirled softly around my legs with any movement. The dress bared my shoulders, had an empire waist, subtle cleavage where the material covered my breasts under which it was stitched in gathers to the waistline. The same at the back under my shoulder blades, exposing skin at my back, around my shoulders, at my cleavage but nothing too bold.

  I wore only the Buchanan family’s ancient, hand-me-down earrings that had an oval ruby surrounded by diamonds set at the base, a larger teardrop ruby dropped from it. I also wore a much larger oval ruby surrounded by diamonds on my right ring finger.

  I’d swept my blonde hair back from my face and fixed it in a twisted chignon at the nape of my neck. I’d done it myself and I didn’t think I did half bad.

  I looked like I was headed into a Hollywood awards ceremony (at least this was what I told myself).

  The rest of the Uninitiated looked like they were no-date girls at a high school prom desperate to be asked to dance.

  “Crap,” I muttered so low even my mother didn’t hear me and she would have at least given me a killing look if she did.

  Even so, I saw a few men, their eyes still pinned to me (in fact, everyone’s eyes were still pinned to me) smile at my word.

  As my mother propelled me down the steps with her hand again at my elbow I reminded myself that I was now amongst vampires. Their senses were heightened to extremes. They could hear better, see better, their senses of smell, taste and touch were vastly more acute and they moved faster.

  Or so I’d been told.

  And, it was important to note, they didn’t look like Avery. Not one of them did.

  They also didn’t look like vampires. At least not what popular culture led us to believe was the look of vampires.

  They were not thin and pale and wearing red ribbons around their throats to which a cross was affixed. They also didn’t have mullets and wear rock ‘n’ roll clothes.

  They were all varying heights but none of them were less than what you’d describe as tall. They had varying body sizes but none of them were slight or slender, nor were they heavy or obese, they were all muscular and powerful. They had all different eye and hair colors.

  The vampire women were the same except the muscular part, but not the powerful part, even if this was a perceived power rather than the physical the men displayed.

  Their skin was normal toned, denoting warmth, humanity.

  And, lastly, they were all beautiful.

  As we hit the bottom step, I controlled my urge to mutter a different, stronger, profanity.

  The conversation started buzzing again which was a relief because it meant I’d stopped being the center of attention. This relief was short-lived.

  “Lydia.” A man, dark blond, green-eyed, tall, gorgeous, was all of a sudden close.

  Wow. My first close encounter with a vampire.


  “Cosmo,” my mother whispered, her head tipped back, that strange, slightly sad but very familiar look she usually had in her eyes had melted away. Instead, her eyes were alight and there was a sweet but sultry smile I’d never seen her wear on her lips.

  He bent low and kissed the hinge of her jaw. Something about this gesture was so intimate, I turned my eyes away.

  Cosmo. I knew that name. My mother had told me the name only days before.

  My mother’s vampire.

  Oh my God.

  “Cosmo, I want you to meet Leah.” I heard my mother say and I turned back.

  My mother was in her sixties. She didn’t look it, nowhere near it. But she still looked older than Cosmo who appeared to be no more than thirty-five. She’d been in her twenties when she’d serviced him.

  He moved to me and bent in. I froze as his lips touched the hair at my temple then his head dipped further and, mouth at my ear, he murmured, “Leah.”

  A trill raced up my spine.

  It wasn’t exactly fear; it wasn’t exactly not fear.

  Nor was it unpleasant. Not in the slightest.

  How weird.

  Please, my mind begged, don’t let my mother’s vampire choose me. Please, please, please. That would be both weird and gross. Too gross. Ick!

  His head moved away but his body didn’t.

  I found my voice and did my utmost to turn it cold and added, for good measure, an icy look on my face when I returned, “Cosmo.”

  In the presence of my frost, he grinned. His grin made his beauty shoot off the charts. Therefore, I lost the frost and stared.

  He turned to my mother and stated, “The rumors are true.”

  My mother shook her head, giving me a reproving look but she spoke to Cosmo. “I’m afraid so.”

  “I like this,” he muttered and turned to inspect my face then his green eyes moved the length of my body then back to my face before he continued, “Lucien will like it better.”