Sunlight Moonlight

by Amanda Ashley

  Thunder rumbled across the sky. A jagged bolt of lightning ripped through the clouds. He couldn't leave her in her car, not in this storm.

  Instead, he carried her upstairs and put her to bed in his bed. Unable to help himself, he lay down beside her and gathered her into his arms. He would hold her close a few minutes more, and then he would leave.

  But the sun stayed hidden in the clouds, giving him a reprieve, and he continued to hold her, his gaze never leaving her face.

  "Forgive me," he murmured. "I never meant to cause you pain."

  She stirred at the sound of his voice. He watched her eyelids flutter open, saw the confusion in her eyes turn to fear when she looked at him.

  "Tell me it isn't true."

  "I wish I could."

  "Are you… Did you… ?" She licked her lips, then raised a trembling hand to the side of her neck.

  "You're fine, Adrianna. You fainted, that's all."

  She looked up at him through eyes filled with terror. It was an expression he had seen on countless faces when the one he had chosen to drink from realized what he was.

  "What are you going to do to me?"

  Fear. He could smell it on her. It sickened him that he was the cause of it. "Nothing."

  He brushed a wisp of hair from her brow, a muscle flexing in his jaw when she recoiled from his touch.

  Slowly and deliberately, he put her from him and stood up. "You can stay here until the rain stops," he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Out."

  "Where?"

  "I need to find a place to spend the day."

  She glanced around the room. It was large, but sparsely furnished, containing only a large dresser, a chest of black lacquer, and the bed. "I thought vampires slept in coffins."

  "Some do," he said, his voice gruff. "I don't care for it."

  He saw the questions in her eyes, the doubts that lingered even in the face of reality. "Good-bye, Adrianna."

  The words were soft, and final. He was leaving, and she knew that if she let him go, she would never see him again.

  She watched him turn away. Now she understood the loneliness she had so often seen in his eyes, heard in his voice. She had a sudden, inexplicable need to hold him, to comfort him.

  He opened the door, and she saw him hesitate, take a deep breath, and then take the first step that would carry him away from her forever.

  "Navarre! Wait!" Jumping out of bed, she ran after him. "Wait! Please wait!"

  He stiffened as he felt her arms wrap around his waist, felt the warmth of her body pressing against his back.

  "Don't leave me," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."

  "Annie, you don't know what you're saying."

  "I don't care what you are. I don't want you to go."

  "I don't want to go." The words came from deep within, as if they'd been dredged from the very bottom of his soul.

  "Then don't go." She dragged him around to face her. "I love you. I've never loved anyone before."

  He shook his head, amused and amazed by the woman standing before him. "Annie, my sweet Annie, don't you know you're not safe here, not safe with me?"

  "I don't care."

  "I care."

  "You've never hurt me before."

  "I wouldn't hurt you now, not intentionally." He sighed, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. "Do you know the story of the rattlesnake who offered to carry a rabbit across a river?"

  She shook her head.

  "The rabbit said no, because he was afraid the snake would eat him, but the snake promised he wouldn't, and the rabbit believed him. When they reached the other side of the river, the snake bit the rabbit. 'Why?' the rabbit asked. 'You promised!' 'I couldn't help it' the rattler explained with a smile. 'I'm a snake'."

  Navarre's eyes begged for her understanding. "I'm a vampire, Annie. And sometimes, even after all these years, the hunger is stronger than I am."

  "Tell me to leave, then." She looked up at him through wide blue eyes filled with love and trust. "Tell me you never want to see me again, and I won't bother you any more."

  He opened his mouth, but his tongue refused to obey his mind's command. "I can't. Heaven help me, I can't send you out of my life."

  He glanced at the window. Even though boards covered the window, he knew the clouds had passed, knew the sun was high in the sky, as a familiar heaviness began to steal over him.

  "Go home, Annie. I'll come to you tonight."

  Fighting the lethargy creeping over him, he stood in the doorway staring after her. Never before had he taken his rest in a place known to another. Never, in the near two thousand years of his existence, had he trusted anyone, male or female, mortal or vampire, to know where he passed the hours of the day.

  It grieved him to think she might betray him, but he knew it was possible. Once she was away from him, once she'd had time to think about what he'd told her, there was always a chance she would decide he was a danger to her, a danger to the town. Given time to think, she might come to the conclusion that he was evil and should be destroyed. And though he wasn't totally helpless during the hours of daylight, he was still weak, still at his most vulnerable.

  With a sigh, he closed and bolted the door, then settled back on his bed, knowing that if Annie betrayed him, nothing else would matter anyway.

  Chapter Nine

  She didn't go to work that day. She didn't really do anything except sit and stare into the distance. It was as if her whole life had been put on hold.

  Vampire.

  It was impossible.

  Still, her grandmother had claimed to see an angel before she died. And there was a lady in town who claimed to be a witch. Maybe there really were stranger things in heaven and earth than she had dreamed of.

  But vampires?

  She thought of all the grade-B horror movies she'd seen growing up. The monsters had always been pictured as horrible ghouls clad in flowing black capes, preying on the blood of innocent young women, turning helpless mortals into mindless zombies. In the movies, vampires were evil incarnate, the very essence of darkness and depravity, a sin against nature. They were cruel, heartless, unfeeling, incapable of tender emotions.

  But Navarre was nothing like that. Was he? Would she think differently if he looked more like Lon Chaney and less like Daniel Day-Lewis?

  If he was a vampire, how could he endure the sunlight? They had spent a morning walking on the beach. She had seen him eat sausage pizza and drink a glass of wine.

  But he cast no reflection in a mirror. And she had seen his fangs, and the hideous glow in his eyes. She remembered inviting him into her house, remembered reading somewhere that a vampire could not enter a house unless he had been invited. And she had invited Navarre. There would be no keeping him out now, she thought, even if she wanted to.

  She stared outside, willing the sun to set, and then she laughed, a nervous, shaky laugh. Maybe she was insane, she thought. Who else but a lunatic would be sitting on the floor, wishing the sun would go down because she was eagerly awaiting the appearance of a vampire?

  He came with the setting sun, his expression wary. He avoided meeting her eyes, almost as if he was afraid of her. Or ashamed.

  Adrianna closed the door behind him, then stood there, uncertain what to do next. "Vampire."

  He stiffened at her use of the word, all his senses suddenly alert. "What?"

  "The V. In your name. It stands for vampire, doesn't it?"

  He nodded, a wry smile curving his lips.

  "So," she said, nervously toying with the folds of her skirt, "what do we do now?"

  "I don't know." He paced the floor in front of the fireplace, back and forth, back and forth, like a caged tiger. "I've only loved one other mortal," he remarked quietly, "and it was a long, long time ago."

  Adrianna stared at him. "You love me?''

  He frowned at her as if she weren't very bright. "Of course."

  "Y
ou never said so before."

  "I know." He crossed the room and took her into his arms, holding her carefully, as though he was afraid of hurting her. Very gently, he kissed the top of her head. "I do love you, Annie," he murmured.

  "And I love you!"

  "I only hope you don't regret it."

  "I won't," she whispered, lifting her face to his. "I won't…"

  He would have let her go then, but she clung to him, molding her body to his in silent invitation.

  "Annie…" He shook his head. "This isn't a good idea."

  "Why not?"

  How could he explain it to her? How could he tell her that it wasn't only passion she aroused in him, but a terrible hunger?

  "I think I'll die if you don't kiss me," she said petulantly.

  "You might die if I do."

  She thought he was kidding her, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw that he was serious. Dead serious. A fit of hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her. Dead serious, she mused. No pun intended!

  "I think I'd better go," Navarre said, easing out of her arms.

  "Go where?"

  He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

  "It's true, then? You… you drink blood?"

  He nodded curtly, his expression grim.

  "Did you… ?"

  "Did I what?"

  "That woman in the alley… did you do that?"

  "No." He ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes pleading with her. "You've got to believe me, Annie."

  "Have you ever done anything like that?"

  He turned away, wondering how he could explain, how he could make her understand.

  "Have you?"

  "Yes." He whirled around to face her. "Yes! I've told you what I am." The condemnation in her eyes was like acid eating at his soul. "Annie, let me explain."

  "Can you?" She loved him, but she couldn't condone murder.

  "When first I was made, I couldn't control the hunger within me. You can't understand the pain, the need. It's worse than any drug addiction, any craving. In the beginning, drunk with power and driven by a force that was stronger than I was, I took what I needed without regard for what I was doing, for the lives I was taking. It was only later that I learned that I didn't have to kill to survive, that I could take what I needed without doing any harm. Still later, I learned I could drink from animals, that their blood would sustain me for long periods of time…"

  His voice trailed off as he saw the look of horror and revulsion in her eyes. It cut deep, yet a part of him welcomed it. Perhaps now she would realize what sort of monster he was. Perhaps she would send him away. He wouldn't blame her if she did. In the long run, she would be better off without him.

  "And now?"

  He sighed, as if shrugging off a heavy burden. "There are plenty of sheep and cattle in the area."

  She looked so relieved, he almost didn't tell her the rest. But she deserved to know it all.

  "I can't survive off the blood of animals indefinitely," he said flatly. "From time to time I have to have human blood."

  "Like the lady in the alley."

  "Dammit, Adrianna, I never touched that woman!"

  "Then who did?"

  "I don't know. Another vampire, I suspect."

  "Another one?" She shuddered, and then she laughed ruefully. "Welcome to Moreno Bay, village of the damned."

  "It's not funny."

  "I know." Images of The Lost Boys rose in her mind and she imagined herself running through the house, filling the tub with holy water, sharpening stakes, hanging strings of garlic around the windows and doors.

  His gaze met hers. "This isn't going to work, Annie—you know that, don't you?"

  "I don't know what I know any more. Except that I love you."

  Like two frightened children, they sought comfort in each other's arms. He never meant to kiss her, only to hold her, to find solace in her nearness even as he sought to soothe her fears.

  But his lips whispered over hers, and then it was too late to turn back, too late to think, too late to do anything but feel.

  The skin beneath his fingertips was as smooth and soft as he had imagined. Her hair was like silk in his hands, her breasts were warm and full, lush with promise.

  Effortlessly, he swung her up in his arms and carried her down the hallway toward her bedroom, toward the bed that had once been his, the bed he had so often imagined sharing with her.

  And now she was there, and he was beside her. Fear rose within him as their bodies came together. He tried one last time to pull away before it was too late, but she refused to let him go, and then he was rising over her, his body meshing with hers.

  He felt the hunger rise within him, urging him to take her blood, and he fought it back, refusing to let it destroy the woman he loved. He heard Adrianna's voice, whispering that she loved him, and the blood lust shriveled and died. And for that moment, he was free of the Dark Gift, free to love her without fear. He had never known such ecstacy. Not with Katlaina. Not with Shaylyn.

  With a sigh, he buried his face in the lush valley between her breasts and lost himself in the warmth and the wonder that was Annie.

  "How did you become a vampire?" she asked later. She was lying in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. "Is it done like they say in the books? Did she drain you of blood, and then give it back to you?"

  "Yes."

  "Did you want to be a vampire?"

  "No." He wound a lock of her hair around his hand, delighting in its softness. He could single out the scent of her hair from the other scents that clung to her—the flowery fragrance of shampoo, the clean, fresh smell of the sun, the faint odor of the hairspray she had used earlier in the day. He released his hold on her hair, felt the thickness of each individual strand as it slid past his fingers. He hadn't wanted to be a vampire, he thought, but he liked the supernatural powers that came with the Dark Gift.

  He took a deep breath, and then he told her of his childhood, of how he'd spent his whole life locked up in a room. He told her of Katlaina, and felt the pain of her loss burn through him again. He told her of Shaylyn, of how he had hated her, of how he'd spent time with her long ago. He told her about traveling over the world, of the changes he had seen, of the times when the burden of existence had been overwhelming, and he'd gone to ground, sometimes for a few years, sometimes for a century or more. How, sometimes, it was the only way he could hang on to his sanity.

  She listened quietly, occasionally interrupting him to ask a question.

  It was near dawn when he finished his tale. Coming back to himself, he gazed at Adrianna, surprised to see tears in her eyes.

  "You're crying," he exclaimed softly. "Why?"

  "Because you've been so alone. But you're not alone now," she whispered, stroking the curve of his jaw. "I'll never let you be alone again."

  Her words cheered him even as he realized that, sooner or later, he would lose her as he had lost Katlaina. But he would not dwell on that now. Later, there would be time to lament her mortality, to wonder how he would face an endless future without her. But for now, for this moment, he would take the love she was offering without question, without hesitation. Take it as a gift, freely given, and hope she would never regret the giving.

  "I wish you didn't have to go."

  In lieu of words, he kissed her. They had spent the entire night in each other's arms, making love, dozing, making love again.

  At dawn, they had showered together, taking turns washing each other, making love again, with the water sluicing over them.

  Later, wrapped in a towel and a smile, Adrianna had fixed herself a pot of coffee while Navarre sipped a glass of warm red wine.

  And now they were in bed again. Navarre stroked her hair, remembering how, only a short time ago, he had wished he could fall asleep in the arms of a woman. He'd done that last night. Fallen asleep in Adrianna's arms, then come awake with the first whisper of dawn to feel her lips brushing his cheek.

  But now the sun was climbi
ng in the sky. Even though the curtains were drawn, he could feel the subtle change in the air as night turned to day, smell the sun-warmed earth and grass.

  With a sigh, he cupped Adrianna's face in his hands and kissed her and then, ignoring his body's immediate response to even that slight bit of loving, he slid out of bed and began to dress.

  Adrianna sat with her back against the headboard, the sheet tucked under her arms. Never, in all her life, had she expected to find the ecstacy, the peace of mind and spirit, that she had found in Navarre's arms.

  Her gaze caressed him as he dressed, admiring the width of his shoulders, the long line of his back, the sinuous way he moved. Already, she was counting the hours and minutes until she could see him again. Be with him again.

  When he was ready to go, Navarre knelt beside the bed, needing to hold her, to touch her, one more time.

  "Tonight?" he asked, and it was both question and promise.

  "Tonight."

  He ran his knuckles over her cheek in a last, quick caress, and then he was gone.

  Navarre swore softly as he left Adrianna's house. The storm had passed, the sun was warm, and he had lingered too long. With one arm flung over his face, he willed himself toward home, his speed increasing until he was virtually invisible to the human eye.

  He vaulted up the stairs to the porch, opened the door with a wave of his hand, and raced up the stairs to the attic.

  Inside, he slammed the door, then stood with his back braced against the wood, his breath coming in hard, short gasps.

  "I thought you were never coming."

  He whirled around at the sound of her voice, familiar even after the passage of so many years.

  "Shaylyn!"

  She was reclining on his bed, her black hair falling over her shoulders like a dark cloud, her black eyes glittering.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked.

  "Waiting for you, of course."

  She was still beautiful. Still deadly. He knew then who had attacked the woman in the alley.

  "Why are you here, Shaylyn?"