VAMP RISING (By Moonlight Book 1)

by Evie Ryan

  Martin was cradling Gwen gingerly, while her parents flanked her left side. They simply wanted to get her from the Lexus to the front door of their apartment building without incident and the swarming reporters were making that extremely difficult. There seemed to be over thirty of them, though Gwen couldn’t tell for sure. The flashbulb bursts were too painful to look through.

  “Please step aside!” Gwen’s father, Steve Keller said firmly before muttering ridiculous.

  But the reporters only inched back, shouting their questions mercilessly, none willing to lose the story.

  Being an aggressive man impervious to the kinds of physical intimidation reporters were capable of when they amassed into a barricading wall, Martin barreled ahead with outstretched arms and literally pressured them back until they had no choice but to step aside and let the Keller's through or get stacked, bodies-to-building, against the glass entrance doors.

  And step aside they did, though the cameramen and photographers lifted their equipment high above their heads to shoot down at Gwen in a last ditch effort to collect a decent shot. Soon the doormen inside the lobby thrust the glass doors inward, Steve Keller braced his daughter and protectively guided her through, as her mother, Rose clung to Gwen’s arm, using her dainty figure as a shield against the few tenacious reporters who had refused to step back. As Rose did, she leaned on Gwen for support. Rose's ankle, though bandaged tightly, was still swollen and the crutch that was propped under her armpit did little to help her walk. Once the family was safely tucked in the lobby, Martin stood in the doorway with a proud chest preparing to confront the press with a few last words and the reporters hushed their chorus of shouted questions like dogs waiting for a bone to be tossed.

  “We will be holding a press conference in three days time at the Marriot. Until then any requests for interviews must come through my office. No one is to contact the Keller's directly and if I get word one of your publications or networks has, any requests you might make after will be automatically denied. Again, we ask you to respect the Keller’s privacy.”

  Gwen finally registered how cold it was while she was standing in the lobby, flanked by her parents. One of the nurses at the hospital had provided her with a set of teal scrubs and cotton booties, but they were no match for the dropping temperature.

  “We’ll get a pot of Chamomile tea on for you, Gwenie and have some food delivered,” Rose told her, as she gave her daughter a little pat. “Our little fighter,” she added, smiling up at Gwen through tears.

  Martin and Steve joined them and then quickly ushered the ladies through to the back of the lobby where the elevator banks were located. After stepping in and riding the swift vertical whoosh that always made Gwen’s ears pop, the doors opened and they entered directly into the Keller’s penthouse.

  The scent of her parents’ home, a soothing mix of floral potpourri, carpet cleaner, and crisp air conditioning set to a comfortable 78°, brought back a rush of memories. She’d only been gone nine days, but it seemed like a lifetime ago when she’d last been here. Tremendous warmth surged through her chest, as she made her way to the living room couch with her mother’s sheltering help. When she took a seat, curling her legs up to sit cross-legged, Rose began digging around her giant Coach bag then produced an I-Phone, Blackberry, and I-Pad replete with their correlating charging devices, and finally a MacBook Pro.

  Gwen smiled to herself. It was like watching a clown car, each item surpassing the last, how did it all fit? Do you want the big anchor or the little anchor? Was an old joke that sprang to mind. Rose Keller had everything you could ever want, need, or imagine crammed inside that giant purse.

  “This is as much as we found in the Mercedes,” she explained. “No signs anyone had tried to break in.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” she said, as she nested the items to her left in the corner of the couch.

  “Oksana!” Her mother sang out at a kind, but urgent volume and immediately a fifty-nine year old Russian woman popped her head into view from the closet down the hall. “Tea please. And I know the boys would appreciate coffee. And could you call Mariano’s and order, well- Gwen, what are you hungry for? Oksie, just get-”

  “Steak,” Gwen interjected to her mother’s surprise. “Rare, please.”

  “Steak entree and the boys and I will have the fish of the day and we’ll need four salads as well and whatever they have for dessert. You know what we like,” she instructed.

  Oksana nodded, smiled at Gwen as if to say she was relieved to have her home, then the housekeeper started down the hall to hop to it.

  Martin and Steve, who had hung back in the foyer to discuss something that to Gwen’s eye had appeared gravely important, came crossing through into the living room and then took seats on the adjoining couch.

  “It’s important that you rest,” said Martin, taking charge of the family’s course of action, as though they were heading into some kind of battle with the press. “But we will need to address the media in some fashion. 20/20 would like an exclusive, but Dateline keeps outbidding them and several publishers want to buy the Life Rights to tell your story. You’ve become the face of wilderness survival and it’s important we monetize these opportunities in case you’re unable to return to work.”

  “Why would I be unable to return to work?” Asked Gwen suddenly confused, not to mention thoroughly overwhelmed by the media storm. It never occurred to her she'd be getting this kind of attention.

  “Sweetheart, you’ll need time to recover. There’s no reason to pressure yourself into going back to work,” said her mother, choosing her words carefully and keeping her eye on her husband for assurance.

  “I haven’t been replaced, have I?” Gwen asked nervously.

  “Gwen, Dear,” her father started, speaking slowly with a sense of seriousness Gwen hadn’t heard from him before. “That job had you running ragged. You would have never thought to slip off to the Cascades, which was so unlike you, had it not been for the incredible stress you were under.”

  “Let’s discuss this after you’ve had a few days to rest,” Rose suggested. “Oh! Oksana!” She called out abruptly. “Make it one more entree, salad, and dessert if you would! I forgot all about the boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend?

  Gwen’s thoughts were suddenly flooded with Brandon: their incredible time together, the electricity of each kiss, his desire to satisfy her every need and the passion he'd demonstrated while doing so. She became enveloped by the memory of his arms, the warmth of them wrapped around her, the way they’d breathed together, bringing each other into climax, as though the universe had aligned itself with perfect orchestration just so that they could find each other and feel their way through their unusual love. They were more than just great sex. Though Brandon’s conviction to be with her had seemed far more certain than her own, she still knew something about them was meant to be. But Elektra had torn them apart. Hadn’t she? Thinking back, Gwen realized the last thing she remembered before waking up in the hospital had been that terrible confrontation between Brandon and Christoph, but her memories went fuzzy after that. Brandon had been heartbroken, though. She remembered that much, the look on his face, the torment behind his eyes. He’d been crushed, but why? Gwen was suddenly filled with a dreadful sense that she’d caused it, but when she searched her memories following the thread of events, soon there was nothing there but darkness and sorrow.

  “Gwenie, Hun, why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone?” Rose asked encouragingly. If her mother had one grievance with Gwen, it was that she never made time to date and Rose wanted grandchildren more than anything.

  “Yez, thankt you, yez. Sendt him op, pleaz,” said Oksana in her frail voice, thickly accented, from down the hall. Gwen watched the housekeeper return the hall phone to its cradle on the wall then disappear back down the hallway.

  Unsure of who was about to enter the penthouse, Gwen stared wide-eyed at her mother. “Where did you find me?” She asked, cautiously.

  H
er father’s brows arched with sympathy, as he said, “We didn’t. Your boyfriend did. Honey, you don’t remember? He found you on the northern side of Mount Rainier. He brought you to the hospital, contacted us from there.” Steve exchanged a worrisome look with Rose then said reassuringly, “You’ve suffered a bit of amnesia, but the doctors said it would lift in time.”

  I don’t have a boyfriend, she wanted to say, though she wasn’t sure it was the best option.

  The elevator doors slid open revealing Christoph.

  “He’s quite handsome,” said Rose, discretely leaning in to Gwen’s ear before whispering a final blessing, “Good genes.”

  Suddenly Gwen’s world was spinning off its axis. She stopped breathing and stared at the vampire who was lingering strangely within the elevator.

  “Come in, please!” Offered Steve just as the elevator doors sprung out from the wall to close.

  Great, my father just invited a vampire in, thought Gwen.

  Christoph stepped through before the doors could close and shook Martin’s hand, who had approached swiftly to greet him, as though Martin was the Keller’s ambassador.

  “Mr. Fuller,” Christoph said with a firm nod. “Mr. and Mrs. Keller, thank you for the invitation.”

  “Join us,” said Rose, beaming with excitement. “Food is on the way.”

  As Christoph crossed the living room, Rose joined Steve on the adjacent couch and Oksana set down a sterling silver tray holding a porcelain tea pot and five matching teacups.

  Christoph took a seat beside Gwen, who was absolutely astonished by trying desperately not to show it. Then he casually draped his arm behind Gwen on the couch back, demonstrating such a wealth of familiarity that Gwen was instantly unnerved.

  “Hero and Heroine,” cooed Rose, who snapped her fingers in Oksana’s general direction. “The camera!”

  “Mom, please,” uttered Gwen, but her mother hushed her with a wave.

  After snapping a few photos that Gwen imagined had her looking rigid and off guard, her mother passed the camera back to Oksana, who disappeared once again down the hall.

  “It was nice seeing you, Christoph, but I must be getting home,” said Martin.

  “Oh yes, it’s well after midnight,” Steve agreed, who walked his brother-in-law to the elevator.

  “Good night Gwen, Rose,” called Martin before the doors shut.

  Steve returned and suddenly Gwen noticed she was feeling ill. It had crept up on her and she was sure Christoph was the reason.

  “My Dear, are you alright?” Christoph asked, as though he was performing their mutual affection for her parents’ benefit. “I feel a sudden throbbing in my head.”

  “You do?” Asked Gwen softly.

  “It’s that tray,” he whispered. “Silver.”

  “Gwen, are you feeling alright? You look pale,” said Rose, concerned.

  “I’d really like to go to bed,” she admitted.

  “Certainly, Oksana’s prepared the guest room for you.”

  “Guest room? I can sleep in my old room.”

  “Sweetheart, that bed isn’t big enough,” her mother said with a wink.

  “Mom,” said Gwen sternly, as she realized her mother intended the man who Rose believed to be her future son-in-law should sleep in the same bed as Gwen. “I’m sure Christoph was just leaving.”

  “I’d like to stay close,” he said, directing a warm smile at Rose. “But Gwen needs her rest and can sleep in her own room for tonight.”

  “What a gentleman,” said Rose, smiling ear to ear.

  “Let me get you settled,” offered Gwen, though between the two vampires it was clearly an order.

  “Oh, Dear, food is on the way,” objected Rose.

  “Really, Mom, he’s tired and not hungry. Trust me.”

  “Good evening, Rose, Steve. Thank you again for your warm hospitality,” said Christoph rising to his feet.

  Unnerved, Gwen pulled Christoph down the long hallway and turned left into the guest bedroom then quickly shut the door.

  “You can’t be here alone. You’ll eat your parents,” said Christoph preemptively making a case for why he would have to stay.

  “I don’t remember anything since Elektra’s office. What the hell did you do?” Gwen demanded, spitting each word through her teeth, but speaking quietly.

  “You wanted to be reunited with your parents and I did what had to be done in order to accommodate.”

  “Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “I didn’t want it to happen like this, leaving me with no memory. Where’s Brandon? I need to talk to him. He’s the one who should be here with me, not you.”

  “Brandon’s bad for you. I’ve explained this.”

  “I don’t know who you think you’re messing with, but my uncle is an attorney and if I tell them you abducted me in the Cascades, trust me, you’ll be locked up in a snap,” she threatened. “The second they’re in bed, you’re gone. Got it?”

  Christoph angled his piercing green eyes down at her with such severity that it chilled Gwen to the bone. “Your parents don’t know you’re a vampire, yet...” The implication was so triggering Gwen was instantly jarred into the revelation that came next.

  “You glamorized me?” She said, as stark dread surged through her gut.

  “It was the only way,” he said, dryly.

  “You’re evil,” she said, but more so to herself. She couldn’t look at him. That was the dark sorrow that had filled her earlier, the sadness that had threatened to shatter her spirit: she’d broken her promise to Brandon, and poor Brandon had watched her do it.

  “Gwen,” he started, this time his tone carried a thread of remorse that Gwen wasn’t expecting. “I’ve wanted you to see me for what I am. A man. A vampire. Of the same kind that you now are. I’ve wanted you to see me for what I could be to you, for you. And I’ve wanted so badly for you to arrive at the feeling on your own.”

  Gwen listened, trying to understand what he was trying to say, but kept getting caught up in his vague, mystical phrasing.

  “I care for you. I want you to give me a chance.”

  She snorted at that.

  “What I did, though I felt it was the only way-”

  “Controlling me like a complete psycho,” she clarified sarcastically.

  “I crossed a line. I know that. But that’s not the kind of relationship I want to have with you. It was just a means to an end.”

  “An end to what? My relationship with Brandon?” She challenged.

  Christoph’s gaze fell, implying she was right. Then he met her eyes and went on, “You would only end up destroying each other. I’m the one for you.”

  “I’d never destroy Brandon. And he’d never do a thing to harm me. If you’re here in the morning, we’ll see whose threat gets carried out first,” she warned.

  As Gwen opened the bedroom door to be finally rid of the manipulating monster, Christoph said, “Ask your mother what happened.”

  Gwen whipped around and glared at him.

  “Ask her why she’s limping, covered in bruises, with casts on each arm. Then tell me he’s not destined to destroy you.”

  She held her glare on him determined not to flinch then snorted, shaking her head and closing the door between them.

  Fuming, Gwen locked herself in her bedroom, tore the teal scrubs off her leaving them on the floor where they fell, and entered her private bathroom to turn on the shower faucet. She was beyond furious, yet kept reminding herself that Brandon would understand if only she could talk to him and explain things. The worry surrounding the fallout with the Sanctuary, Brandon’s probable heartbreak, and the massive loss of control she was suffering at Christoph’s hand had Gwen completely on edge. Her mind was racing along with her heart rate. At every turn she just had no goddamn control, first the diagnosis, then being turned vampire, and now Christoph’s detrimental meddling. Even Brandon’s steadfast determination to be with her seemed to have happened without her input. What on Earth was it going to take
for her to take the reins of her life and finally live it?

  As she lathered up under the hot shower stream, she couldn’t deny the nagging feeling that her mother had taken some kind of spill that hadn’t been explained. When they’d been in the Lexus driving home, Gwen had asked her what happened, but Rose merely redirected all concern back onto Gwen. It’s nothing to worry about, her mother had told her. And when she’d pressed them both for information her father only added to the mystery by saying, There’s a lot of terrain out there. A lot of wildlife. We were armed, but it wasn’t always enough.

  Her mother’s injuries.

  Those shots that had been fired.

  By the time Gwen was stepping out of the shower the possibility that the two were connected had her quaking with anxiety.

  Quickly, she toweled off her soaking hair so that it wouldn’t drip, threw on a robe, and then made her way to her parents' bedroom. The door was ajar, so she knocked, forcing it open a bit more. “Mom?”

  “She’s having a bite,” said her father, who was seated in bed with the comforter tucked high around his waist. He glanced at her over the top rim of his spectacles, smiled and added, “So glad you’re home safe.” As Gwen eased back through the door, Steve returned his gaze to the book in his lap and turned the page.

  Gwen walked down the hall, but paused at the guest bedroom to be certain Christoph was inside. The shower was running so she knew he would be occupied for at least a few minutes. He better not dare creep out, she thought, before continuing down the hall.

  She found Rose in the kitchen. She was seated and muscling a bite of salmon to her mouth, as Oksana, beside her, tended to her by cutting up the rest of the fish among other services.

  “Honey, did you realize you’re hungry?” Asked Rose, happy to see Gwen taking a seat beside her.