Crimson Moon

  He did most of his work via phone but made frequent trips to the states and other countries to keep things in order. None of the werewolves—or loup-garou as he referred to them—knew about his specific ability. They ignorantly assumed he was just another arrogant vampire—as he put it.

  His life was so complex. I tried to keep my eyes on my food instead of staring. He looked incredible in a fitted black suit, the loose collar at his neck displaying his porcelain skin.

  "What about Dad?” I asked, totally amazed.

  "I met him after you were born, after his change.” He sipped on his glass of red wine and continued, “Luca contacted me privately about Lily, offering to pay me twice my fee if I'd swing by on trips into the country to look in on her. Of course, I accepted. It was just a plane ticket away.” He studied my face intently, his eyes glowing in the candle light. “When I told him about you, he relayed his story. I was intrigued. He faced serious repercussions if he went against the family, but he refused to lose your Mother permanently."

  "So you became friends?"

  "We became united in our common interests. The friendship developed along the way,” he answered ambiguously.

  "Why didn't he send you for me instead of Sam's people? Wouldn't that have made more sense?” It was a question I'd thought of often. It could have spared a lot of heartache.

  "It was pure bad luck,” he admitted, obviously regretful. “I was indisposed in London and couldn't arrive quickly enough. I left as soon as I got the news. I'll tell you this. Your Father would have had zero reservations about using his mind talent on Tristan."

  "He didn't have to question Tristan?” I asked curiously, recalling Sam saying he'd been delivered to the DeViard family.

  "No.” Trent narrowed his eyes at the memory. “By the time Tristan arrived, he was dead. There wasn't much left to be honest."

  I flashed back to the creatures chasing me in town. Their slanted glowing eyes and teeth scorched into my mind. Different than vampires, I'd been told, with none of their daytime weaknesses.

  "That's rubbish.” Trent put his glass down, clearly annoyed. “We don't have weaknesses in the daylight, not like Sam thinks. Sure, it's a drain on us. We're nocturnal creatures by design. But those blood filled ticks are nothing at all in comparison."

  "What are they exactly?” I asked softly.

  "They are the result of shoving as much vampire blood possible into a human over a short period of time. It warps the brain and changes them into what you saw. They're not immortal, just strong from our blood, and crazed because of it. Truebloods would never dream of making them. They are abominations, half creatures with nowhere to belong.” He frowned, his mouth forming a harsh line, “It's against our laws, punishable by death."

  The subject of vampire law dredged up the impending trip to London. I had yet to make a decision because it was precarious one. If I didn't go, my Father would face pressure and questions. They would expect an explanation and update on my status. If I did go, I would be subjected to the abilities ceremony along with everyone else. I would also encounter others like Trent, mind readers, who could merge inside my head to decipher my thoughts. I didn't relish the thought of someone sorting through the file cabinets inside my mind.

  "Your Mother would be grateful if you attended, not that she would ever admit it. The trip is hard on her. Most commons are bloodslaves.” He smiled, adding, “And she would be proud to showcase her daughter."

  I cringed inwardly at that word—bloodslaves. People bound to true blood aristocracy. They did it in an effort to bolster themselves in ranks, clearing a path into immortality. Meals on wheels as it were—always on hand whenever someone wanted a snack. And the contract could span lifetimes. Several trueblood relatives not yet changed took this option too. It meant an assurance into the house of their choice. Dad had warned me about the prospect, as I would be seen as a prime target.

  "Don't worry,” Trent assured me confidently. “No one wants to anger your Father. They all know what he is capable of. If you don't believe me, you can ask Luna Acarons. She made the unsightly mistake of calling your Mother a whore within earshot of him once. She's still afraid to glance into the mirror, terrified she'll find herself bald and scorched."

  My voice rose as anger appeared, simmering. “They speak like that to Mom?"

  "Not if your Father is around, but they still hold a grudge. You can expect that to continue for several more centuries. Your Father broke their laws because of her, and they have a very unforgiving memory,” Trent admitted.

  Picturing my Mother surrounded by snobby assholes that treated her inferiorly pissed me off something fierce. I should go, if only to tell them how far up their ass they could shove their bloodlines.

  "I would pay to see that.” Trent's eyes flashed at me, his voice a husky timbre.

  I averted my eyes, pushing the uneaten food around my plate and wishing we could have a basic conversation without this tension coming back into play.

  Foolishly, I'd expected things to stay platonic tonight. But deep down, I knew better.

  "When you've finished, I have a surprise.” He toned it down, reclining back in the booth.

  "A surprise,” I asked suspiciously, placing my fork down on the plate.

  He grinned, refusing to say more. Music spilled from the piano, the deep resounding strokes familiar in my ears. I concentrated on the lush tones, placing the melody—Moonlight Sonata.

  "Would you like to dance?” Trent rose in one fluid movement, coming around the table and offering his arm.

  "This is really cheesy, and has b-flick horror film written all over it. You know that, right?” I laughed softly, nodding and feigning graciousness, accepting his arm and following him to the dance floor.

  Self-assured hands directed me, one winding around my waist and the other lifting my arm. I tried to stare at my feet, unable to figure out the steps.

  "Don't look down,” Trent breathed, removing his arm from my waist and lifting my chin.

  Our eyes met and my smile slowly faded. God, he was splendid, absolutely stunning. The red tint from the fireplace made his skin glisten and his eyes sparkle. I forced my eyes away from his own, blinking rapidly, stopping at his lips. The skin was soft and full, tinted cherry red from his recent feeding.

  I cleared my throat, shaking my head in embarrassment. “I'm sorry."

  "What are you sorry for?” He lowered his face to my own, angling my chin upward with his hand, forcing me to meet his resplendent eyes again.

  I'm sorry that...

  My thought was cut short, ended as his lips pressed against mine. The breath left my body and I closed my eyes. Trent had never kissed me like this before. His lips were incredibly soft and gentle, pressing and lifting, returning to do more of the same.

  His mouth opened and his tongue slid past my lips, finding my own and brushing the silken flesh in a teasing touch. He tasted as sweet as he smelled, like honeysuckle. My trembling fingers wound into his jacket, hands clutching the material tightly.

  I felt the coolness of his hands as his fingers surrounded my face, holding me delicately so he could kiss me deeper. I sighed, giving him what he clearly wanted and relaxing. The strokes of his tongue inside my mouth were soft and easy, surprisingly tender. He groaned against my lips, removing his hands from my jaw and pulling me close.

  I didn't resist this time, allowing him to bring me against his body. He was taller, muscles sinewy and lean instead of thick and bulky. His body was cool instead of hot, and he smelled sweet instead of woodsy.

  Yet, it didn't feel wrong or uncomfortable—just different.

  "You're superb, utterly breathtaking," Trent whispered in my mind, lifting his lips to peer into my face before kissing me again.

  "No, I'm not," I thought back impulsively.

  He kissed me gently, lifting his head and gazing down. Aqua irises flickered back and forth between my eyes.

  "You are,” he murmured, both aloud and in my mind.

  I bl
ushed, swallowing hard and looking away. I didn't like having this kind of attention. It made me self-conscious.

  Trent's lips curved as he read my thoughts. “Would you like to see the surprise now?"

  "All right,” I mumbled, still unable to meet his gaze.

  We left the restaurant, climbing inside the welcoming warmth of the heated car waiting outside. Trent sat alongside me, neither of us saying a word as we drove to a destination unknown to me.

  The surprise was breathtaking, leaving me speechless. The driver had taken us to a beach, the shoreline clearly visible courtesy of the moon above. It was chilly out, and I rubbed my hands along my cardigan. Trent shrugged out of his jacket, wrapping it around my shoulders.

  The water roared and sang into the surf, a symphony of ocean and air, light and dark, twisting and crashing on the rocks. The moonlight ripples along the surface of the frothy waves came and went in intervals, distorting as the water came into shore.

  I pulled my shoes off and carried them in my hands, thin strips of leather dangling from my fingers, standing bare foot in the sand. My feet were cold, tiny grainy particles sticking in between my polished red toes. The wind swirled around my shoulders; my bouncy curls rearranging atop my head and breaking free.

  "It's amazing here,” I breathed, gazing out into the ocean. The water appeared more black than blue in the dark. I couldn't see where the ocean stopped and the sky began in the distance.

  "It is."

  I felt him behind me, coming in close but not touching. He wouldn't invade my space unless invited first. I felt nervous, heart fluttering. I wasn't like him. I couldn't reach into his mind to see his deepest fears, dreams or desires. But I knew what he wanted.

  "It's okay,” I said softly, intimately, in his mind.

  He reached for me, wrapping his arms carefully around. His beautifully long fingers intertwined at my waist, pulling me back as he stepped forward, merging our bodies together. I relaxed against him, listening to the rush of the water in my ears.

  "We could have this forever, Emma,” he spoke gently in my mind, the lyrical cadence of his words shared in this intimate form of communication. “You could look at this shore every night for an eternity if you wanted."

  Eternity.

  I could experience history first hand. Never worrying about time, never fearing I would miss out on epic events. I could still be here when scientist's uncovered different planets and solar systems, or new species existing under the oceans. I could stay just as I was, never growing old, forsaking illnesses and death. It was the ultimate temptation.

  Who wouldn't want to live forever?

  "Then join us,” he whispered in my mind, tightening his hold. “Say you'll come to London. Accept what only we can provide you. You can be happy in this life, I swear it."

  Could I be happy? Would I be happy? What were the drawbacks? Living among ruthless people, for one, but then again, if my Mother and Father could persevere, so could I. I would have to leave my old life behind. I remembered my last trip to see Grandma. She wouldn't remember me anyway, even if I returned for her.

  And there was the most painful obstacle.

  I'd have to let Caleb go. I'd have to embrace my new life. No more living in the past. I would have to live forward.

  Two months.

  I'd given him two months. Two months of personal hell spent waiting, heartbroken and shattered. I couldn't keep doing this to myself, it wasn't fair, wasn't healthy. Trent was right, I had to be realistic. I knew what my decision would have been had I never met Caleb. I'd only just rediscovered my parents. I didn't even want to conceive of leaving them permanently.

  My choice came in a sudden rush. No more deliberating. And Trent plucked the thought easily from my mind.

  "Your parents will be ecstatic." He squeezed me gently, bending over to shelter my body with his own.

  "What happens now?” I asked, slightly apprehensive. I had no idea what to expect.

  "That depends entirely on you. Bloodlust is difficult initially, so you'd need to be away from humans. Otherwise, there isn't much preparation involved for us. You will need to decide what loose ends you need to tie up and remove any unnecessary attachments.” He continued answering the questions as I posed them in my mind, reading my thoughts. "The change itself is rather simple. You're bitten, your blood nearly drained, and then you're given vampire blood in exchange. It's fast, the change occurring within minutes. It is painful, but fleeting."

  "What is the bloodlust?” I asked anxiously, trembling.

  "Something completely natural and short lived.” His arms hugged me reassuringly. “It will fade with experience. It's normal to have hunger, but it's difficult to control when you're newly changed. Don't fret, it will pass."

  "And my Fae, she will accept the change to vampire?” I didn't change from the werewolf bite. I was unsure how this would be any different if it all hinged on free will.

  "The change is different for our kind. With the werewolf, a minor bite can absorb into the system, causing the change. With us, the body is worn down to the point of death. The Fae will latch onto life, no matter what form it is offered. So yes, you will accept it in order to live,” he explained with care.

  As we stood, listening to the tide roll in, I felt at peace for the first time in months. I'd been torn for so long, uncertain and confused.

  I couldn't perceive the future because I couldn't step into it. I was firmly planted in the past. Now that the gates were wide open and no more self imposed restrictions weighed heavily upon my shoulders, I felt liberated—and free.

  "After we return from London,” I decided out loud. That was when I would begin my new life. “That will give me time to tie up loose ends and to prepare myself."

  I didn't want to make the trip to London newly changed. It would be too much at once. I had to take this one step at a time—every aspect of it.

  "I can't promise you anything,” I told him softly, my words carrying on the wind.

  "I know,” he said, equally hushed.

  His fingers dug into the soft flesh on my hip, twisting my body around so that we faced one another. His eyes met mine, plush lips curving. The breeze ruffled his hair, sending chunks of blond hair around his ears and face. I ran my fingers up his shirt, entwining them in the silky strands along his neck.

  Trent's mouth descended by infinitesimal degrees and my lips yielded willingly to the increased pressure of his kiss, softening readily against his mouth. His hands reached along my shoulders and spine, resting comfortably in my lower back. The wind increased, sand and salt water spraying around our bodies, surrounding us completely.

  For the first time since my arrival, Trent was the sole person inhibiting my mind.

  It was well past midnight when we arrived home. A few windows glowed from inside—my Mother and Father waiting up. It was humorous in a way, them behaving like worried parents.

  Especially since my date was a vampire.

  "I didn't tell them,” Trent told me quietly, helping me from the car. “This is good news you should relay personally."

  My parents were waiting just inside, eager and edgy like the nervous parents they were. My presence alleviated any tension, smiles appearing on their eager faces. Even my Father seemed less stressed, steel eyes softening into a light grey.

  "Did you have a good time?” Mom asked expectantly.

  "We had a wonderful time.” I nodded, returning her smile with a real one of my own. “But I need to speak to you both, unless you'd rather wait until tomorrow."

  They frowned simultaneously, worry changing their carefree expressions.

  "It's not bad.” The words gushed from my mouth. “Can we go into the study?"

  "Certainly.” Dad's frown deepened, eyes darting to Trent warily. He still appeared exhausted, alabaster skin even paler than before, dark circles lining his eyes. The shadows on his face were far more prominent.

  Dad led the way with Mom at his side, striding purposefully down the hall and to t
he study. I took a seat on the loveseat. Trent settled in beside me as my parents followed suit on the couch.

  Just like the first night I arrived.

  How peculiar—things do come full circle.

  "I've decided to go to London,” I said, holding my breath, waiting for their reaction.

  "Are you sure?” My Father asked, his voice conveying his hopefulness. His eyes lifted, worry evaporating from his face completely. Mom watched beside him with a matching elated expression.

  "I am.” I smiled, stammering, “A-and after the trip, I want to be with you...To be like you."

  "This is wonderful news!” Mom exclaimed ecstatically, jumping from the love seat and pulling me into her arms. She smelled like lavender and jasmine, so sweet and soothing. “Oh, Emma, I'm so glad you've made this decision. We were so hoping you would."

  I hugged her back. “I'm glad, Mom."

  "This changes everything.” Dad sighed in relief, voice normal for the first time in days. The weight I didn't know he carried absolved from his shoulders. “We'll need to plan ahead, make a few decisions."

  "What kind of decisions?” I asked anxiously. “I thought it was pretty cut and dry."

  "No monumental ones, lass.” He smiled reassuringly. “Only the logistics. I'll have to contact the head of our house and tell them formally. They will wish to meet with you after the change occurs. Several of them should be at the meeting in London, but a private audience is the respectable thing. Upon discovering your ability, they will formally offer a position of some nature. It is your discretion to accept or decline."

  "I thought London was where abilities were shared and employed.” I frowned. “You said after abilities are shared different houses can try to work out bargains among the fledgling and their house."

  "They do,” he confirmed, adding, “But again, it's your discretion. And you are already connected to a powerful house. There are others equally as strong as ours, but only one is powerful enough to tempt to persuade you, and that's the Prince himself. Even he is bound by our traditions, however, so don't worry."