"No, I'm alright," he muttered, squinting in the window's direction. "It's good that the curtains are closed, though. On the compound, they hammered it into us that even the smallest amount of indirect sunlight can be harmful. I'd rather not put it to the test."
"I wouldn't either," I agreed. Then my stomach growled again, much louder than earlier. "Well, it's obvious that I'm starving. How are you doing?"
"I must feed soon, one way or another. The bagged blood wasn't helpful, nor were the fries or last night's sleep. And I can't protect you when I'm this fatigued, which puts you in danger."
"I admit, the bagged blood didn't do much. Sadly, I don't think Amelia will be feeding either of us today. She was really out of it before she went to sleep."
He ran a hand through his sleep tousled hair, meeting my eyes intently. "We're gonna need to find a few donors. In the old days, vamps fed from random people all the time."
"Yeah, uh, won't that make 'em bond with us?" I stammered, dread filling my soul. The last thing I wanted to do was form more connections. Lucien and Amelia were quite enough.
"Traditionally..." He faltered, his words trailing off until he noticed my impatient glare. "Back in the day, vamps would drain humans dry purposefully to avoid creating familiars."
"Well, that's not an option! We're not killing anybody!" I couldn't believe he actually suggested an act so horrible! Bank robbery, yes. Car theft, yes. Mind manipulation, maybe. Murder? Not only no, but hell no.
"I knew you'd object," he backpedaled. "I simply figured I'd put it out there. Personally, I'm with you; I don't feel right about offing some unsuspecting stranger. All the same, I'll do what I must to protect your life."
"I won't," I huffed. Even idle talk of it was appalling. "We'll go grovel at Tsedaka's feet again before we start killing people!"
He leaned closer, reaching through the covers toward my bare leg. Upon finding me, his soft fingertips played lightly across my skin. Shortly thereafter, my psyche oozed with a sense of peaceful serenity. "We've got other alternatives, girlie. Just hear me out."
"Okay, but these alternatives better not include murder," I growled. Briefly, I considered shifting back from his touch with the understanding that it'd lessen the sensation of calmness. Nevertheless, I sorta liked it and, truthfully, I probably needed to mellow a tad. My rage was ready to bubble over.
"At the compound, those of us who weren't bonded, periodically gave blood. You see, human blood holds its life force at full strength for several hours. This means that, with a donor and the right equipment, we can feed without creating a bond."
"How are we supposed to accomplish that?" I snapped, skepticism accenting my words. "We're in the real world. Nobody's gonna volunteer to let us harvest their blood, not even a dumb crackhead."
He moved his hand further up my thigh, inches from my panties. "I never said it'd be easy."
"Yeah, damn near impossible. We're both too weak to enter a person's subconscious and trick them into it. Plus, they might remember our faces and go to the cops." Then we'd have Tsedaka's thugs, assassination attempts, and the human authorities to worry about. Not a good plan.
"Well, if that won't work, our best hope is for Amelia to sustain us. You must be aware that my bite will cause her pain, even if we both drink at the same time..."
"How 'bout we cut her and drain some of her blood? Won't that be less painful?"
"Yes, although, her blood would become a poison to me. Frankly, I'll probably be a little sick regardless." He lifted his hand away from my leg, transferring his attention to my eyes. "I was taught that theoretically vampires are capable of sharing bonded slaves under emergency conditions. Nonetheless, I haven't actually had a conversation with a single vamp who did it. I'm simply going by what my instructors said."
Before I could respond, the bedroom door creaked open and Amelia stepped in. "I heard you two talking and was certain you were awake. On top of that, I sensed your hunger, Luna. Am I disrupting anything?"
"No, not at all," I replied, taking in the nice peachy glow to her cheeks. "Come and sit down, here, by me." Mouth watering, I smiled affectionately and patted a spot at the edge of the bed next to where I lay. Jesus! I felt like a predatory bird hunting a defenseless field mouse. Except this bird didn't need to chase; the mouse came willingly.
"Can you feed the both of us?" Lucien inquired, barely giving her a chance to reach the bed.
"I guess, but it'll have to be small. Here, let me move into a better position where each of you can take a wrist." Promptly, she crawled over me and situated herself atop the sheets between us. "Remember, Luna, you must go first. Then Lucien can join you."
I wasn't too hip on the idea of hurting her or potentially making Lucien sick. Unfortunately, we lacked other viable alternatives. Praying our crazy scheme would work, I sat up, awkwardly continuing to hide my bare legs beneath the comforter. And Lucien followed my lead, sitting upright as well. Although, since he wore all his clothes, movement was significantly less challenging for him.
All the while, I salivated in anticipation of the warm, flowing splendor. And by the time I held Amelia's wrist in my hand, my teeth had already elongated. I concentrated on her throbbing vein, ignoring her scabby bites, as I pierced her skin. It was yummy euphoria, like usual, until the moment Lucien's fangs sunk in. Then it became agony, blinding pain of the worst kind.
I fully embodied my tiny helpless mouse's discomfort, from the sharp gnawing at her wrist to the unfathomable burning that surged within her veins. Her terrified eyes begged me for help as tears began flowing steadily down her freckled cheeks. My heart melted and, in that instant, I would've done anything to end her torment.
"Lucien, quit feeding," I thought into his mind urgently, unable to speak with my teeth buried in her wrist. I couldn't risk letting go ahead of him, because it might bring her even more pain.
In the meantime, she struggled to free herself from us. "Stop, please, it hurts too much!" she shrieked, bucking wildly. "I can't take it!"
"Just a little more," Lucien sent back. "I must drink enough to make all of this worth..."
Abruptly, his words trailed off and were followed by another type of pain. One that knocked the air from my lungs and stabbed me in the gut. Deep, penetrating. And, despite having perceived it, intuition told me that it wasn't mine. It was Lucien's, the beginnings of a bad reaction to Amelia's blood.
"Stop!" she sobbed, distress soaring to new heights. "Please!"
"That's it! I order you to release her, now!" I moved the words into his head along with a blast of anger, letting him know he should've listened the first time.
And, finally, Lucien did as I asked. "Sorry," he groaned, curling into a ball of misery. "It hurt me as much as her. Don't be mad, I endured it to protect you."
Totally perturbed, I avoided answering him right away, instead I kept feeding in hopes that it'd ease a bit of Amelia's suffering. And I was correct, it did. After awhile, a blissful look slid across her face and the torturous agony became a far-off memory. My body yearned to consume every last gulp of energy she could give, however, I decided against zapping the last of her reserves. I'd rather stay hungry than drink her into unconsciousness.
And so, with a mental sigh, I withdrew my fangs. Then I morphed my expression into the most treacherous one possible and glared at Lucien pointedly. "In the future, when I tell you to do something, you'd better do it!"
"I'm sorry..."
"No, you shouldn't have kept going. You hurt her!"
"I know that, but..."
"And quit apologizing to me! She's the one who you should be asking for forgiveness."
Swiftly, he bowed his head toward Amelia, who'd already scooted to foot of the bed away from us. "I'm deeply sorry. I didn't intend on harming you."
"It's okay, I understood the consequences," she chuckled nervously. "Even so, next time, I'll take a couple Tylenol first. Or perhaps a vicodin if we can get our hands on some."
"Nope, there's not gonna be
a next time," I objected, affronted at the thought. "I know you're trying to be cool about this and all. Still, I felt how much it hurt you. It's not happening again."
"I agree," Lucien moaned, face pale as he curled back into a ball. "It gave me one hell of a tummy ache. And, anyhow, I'm going to need larger feedings. This small amount of blood can't sustain me on a normal basis. It provided enough energy to be able to seek out a donor, though, so I'm glad we attempted it."
"A donor?" I asked cautiously. "You're not thinking of..."
"I'm merely suggesting what's necessary, girlie. We'll try to extract blood from them without biting. Nevertheless, if that plan fails, we'll have to proceed in spite of your misgivings."
"You guys could try feeding from them together," Amelia put in. "Remember, Lucien? That story Lord Ad..."
"Hey, don't say his name!" I warned while I frantically flapped my hands in the air.
"Oops, I forgot," she squeaked, grinning at me apologetically. "So, um, do you remember the story the nameless one used to tell us of coming over on the ship to America?"
Lucien pursed his lips. "Vaguely, yet I'm not seeing its relevance."
"Well, he and Lady Isabella fed from one of the female passengers at exactly the same moment. And, surprisingly, the human didn't bond to either of them. Instead, the woman chose to allow their joint feedings to continue in secret. In the end, nobody on the ship was the wiser."
The idea of mister sector six sharing anything whatsoever with hoity-toity Isabella caused unwanted feelings of jealousy to percolate within me. He didn't seem to be that close to my stuck up cousin during the crowning ceremony. In fact, I hadn't noticed him sparing her a second glance. So, why would he have fed with her years ago? I suppose, stuff could've changed between them; maybe they dated. God, who knows, considering how long he's been alive. Five hundred years, at least. He's probably been with thousands of women...
Clearing his throat, Lucien snapped my attention back to our present predicament. "You must realize, girlie, it's only a story. One solitary story. I've never heard anyone else claim such an oddity to be possible. And, even if it is, there's no proof that we'll evade a bonding. Granted, Amelia can't support us both, so we must do something..."
"I hate to say it," I cringed. "But it looks like our best option." Sharing a single food source between the two of us wasn't feasible for our long-term survival. I knew that. Regardless, I didn't wanna take on more dependents. "I'll just keep my fingers crossed and pray."
"I'm confident it'll be fine, no matter the outcome," Amelia reassured, her posture projecting sincerity.
Yeah, and you're not the one who has to deal with the telepathy, the psychic empathy, and the never-ending responsibility. Rubbing my temples to stave off a migraine, I swiftly comprehended that we had no choice. I wasn't gonna let us starve to death. "So, uh, how should we do this?" I eventually croaked, squaring my shoulders.
"We could go clubbing," Lucien replied, his smile appearing somewhat forced. "It's dark, there's lots of people, and perhaps we can find a donor who's drunk."
"Then we can get 'em out in the alley," I added in a silly voice, bursting into a slightly hysterical laughing fit. It must've been contagious because it spilled over onto Lucien and Amelia. And, in a flash, the three of us were cracking up and rolling around on the bed.
This went on for several minutes. However, once we'd finally quieted down, I found them looking to me for direction. Begrudgingly, I decided to step up. I mean, what other choice did I have? To them, I was their leader, their princess. "Okay, guys, I think I know of a place. There's a cool rave club in the power and light district. I went there a couple times with friends during college. Are you into techno?"
"What computer geek isn't?" Lucien chuckled, his eyes reflecting genuine excitement.
Nodding in approval, I turned to Amelia. "How 'bout you?"
"Oh, I'm not going; I need my rest," she sputtered. "It'll just be you and Lucien. I'll go buy fresh clothes for you, though, seeing that Lucien has to avoid the sun and you shouldn't leave unguarded."
Damn. She was right; the club enforced a dress code and I doubted they'd allow us in wearing our grimy black jeans. I'd consider showering and shaking 'em out, still, the nastiness would definitely linger. "I'm glad you mentioned that, Amelia, the club's dress code totally slipped my mind. There are a few hours until dark and the mall's only across the street. Sure you've got the energy?"
"Yep, I'll make it short. And don't stress. When I get back I'll order room service, then take a nap," she assured, a grin stretching along her pallid cheeks. "Plus, I love shopping! It'll be fun!"
"Well, sounds doable, you know where the money is." I motioned toward the briefcase resting beside the bed. "Take as much as you need."
Chapter 18
"Hey guys!" Amelia beamed as she strode through the door to our suite carrying an armful of bags. "I know I said I'd shop light, but I couldn't help it. There were Christmas sales everywhere and I landed us some really cool stuff!"
Impatiently, I scooted forward on the couch. Lucien and I'd been sitting there, snuggled up in our hotel bathrobes ever since we'd finished our showers earlier. "We were worried sick! You've been gone nearly three hours!"
"We thought you might've been discovered by one of Tsedaka's men," Lucien added with a perturbed arch of his brow.
"Jeeze, you two! I'm fine, well, except for the fact that my arms are a tad too full," she complained, plopping her load atop the coffee table in front of us. "I found club clothes as well as a few casual outfits. And guess what?"
"What?" I placated half-heartedly, simultaneously sharing a sideways glance with Lucien.
Engrossed in excitement, her face glistened with enthusiasm. "This store, um, Hot Topic, uh, I think that's it. Anyway, they sold me fake body piercings! And wigs!"
"Oh, I simply can't wait," Lucien quipped, rolling his eyes. "You better not have gotten me one, 'cause I'm not wearing it."
I wasn't too enthused about wearing a wig either. Nevertheless, I refused to rain on her parade. And fake body piercings? Uggh! "Well that's, uh, inventive," I finally muttered.
"I know, right?" she exuberantly agreed, blind to the apprehension in my voice. Then, without another word, she proceeded to dump all of her good deals and precious finds from their bags. And, let me tell you, it was a site to be seen. One straight out of raver hell.
Naturally, Lucien and I cringed away from the halloween-eque monstrosity. However, I eventually caved to her eager eyes and picked up a curly black wig. "Um, this'll work, I guess. You'll need to help me secure my hair underneath it, though."
"Sure, no problem, let's go to the bathroom. I'll bring the rest of your stuff with me and we can get you all fixed up. And Lucien, your things are right here." She pointed to a pile of what appeared to be black pleather. "I figured you'd want a weapon. That being said, the mall didn't have much to choose from. I found you a pocketknife; it's at the bottom of the stack. I hope that'll be alright."
Immediately, his demeanor warmed in reassurance, the first positive reaction I'd seen since she'd returned. "Thanks, Amelia, a pocketknife will do. I doubt I'd be able to smuggle a larger weapon into the club anyhow."
"Excellent," she beamed, arms filled with clothes. "Come on, Luna, let's get busy!"
Promptly standing, I kept my head down as I embarked on the dreaded walk to the bathroom. And fifteen minutes of foo fooing later, I sauntered back into the living room looking like freak show barbie. Poofy black hair, silver nose ring, charcoal knee high boots, pink fishnet pantyhose, day-glow pink miniskirt, and skin tight black mini-t. Sadly, a waist-length pink leopard-print coat with furry black lapels and cuffs completed the tragedy.
If you can believe it, she even insisted on adding a layer of glitter to my face. The only saving grace was the getup's convenient absence of red. I never wanted to wear dear old daddy's stupid color again.
Lucien, on the other hand, was actually pretty hot. He pulled the black fake leather tre
nch coat, pants, and boots ensemble off without seeming the least bit tacky. And the purple mesh shirt Amelia'd chosen was steamy, allowing a hint of his pale skin to peek through. Beyond that, he'd used some hair gel she'd obviously also purchased to style his brown mop into spikes. Secretly, I thought a pair of fake nipple rings'd add a little extra flair, but I decided to keep that comment to myself.
"Oh, you guys match perfectly! And everything fit!" Amelia bubbled. "Could I paint your fingernails? I've got this pearlized obsidian polish, it'd go great with..."
"No, you've done more than enough," Lucien growled, truncating her boisterous chatter with a firm wave of his hand. "Too much time's been wasted already, the club's doors opened over an hour ago. We really must be going."
I quickly agreed, desperate to avoid any more gussying up. This emo candy kid was fitted out. Sigh. All things considered, though, Amelia had fashioned a couple fairly decent disguises. I barely recognized myself, which meant that the lackeys would find identifying me in a crowd to be quite challenging.
"Sure you still wanna stay?" I asked, glancing at Amelia as I popped open the briefcase, stuffed my pockets with cash and a room key, then tossed a wad of bills at Lucien. "You could come along."
"Nope, it's best if I hang here," she replied, smiling graciously. "I need my rest, considering you guys might not be successful. Plus, I'd like to bathe and order some food."
With a curt nod, Lucien grabbed my hand and led me toward the door. Although, at the last moment, he glanced over his shoulder at Amelia. "Don't answer the door or the phone," he cautioned. "We'll be back before sunrise."
She probably agreed, even so, my muddled brain didn't register her response. Instead, my emotions churned with anxiety as my body went on autopilot. We left the room and strode down the hall, Lucien steadying my resolve by continuing to hold my hand. His reassuring stability was reminiscent of a parent crossing a busy street with a young child. I knew he'd keep me safe, no matter what.
Still, my conscience ached from the insight that we were about to go hunting for the first time. Hunting, yep, that summed it up perfectly and was an honest contrast to the weaselly 'finding a donor' phraseology. For real, our victim would only be willing following a session of vamp mind mojo. So, in my opinion, the type of abuse of which we were preparing to partake was akin to giving a woman a date rape drug. Seriously, why me? Why fucking me? Oh wait, I know the reason. Goddamn Tsedaka, the sleazy piece of crap.
The Chalice (Luna Vampire Series) Page 16