The Chalice (Luna Vampire Series) (35 page)

             
"Three days.  And I'm sorry for that, darling.  The moment I experienced your memory of Isabella's attack and William's atrocities, I started devising a plan."

             
"So, you just got the one m-message?  I sent s-several others."

             
"Merely the one," he affirmed with a brusque nod.  "I intend on getting you out of here.  Nonetheless, you must understand that I'm alone.  Your father prohibited me from bringing a single guard or assistant.  If not for the new cluster of black demons in the Denver area, I wouldn't have had an excuse serious enough to require an emergency audience."  He paused, obviously clueing in on the fact that my attention was rapidly waning.  "At any rate, my main point is that for my plan to succeed, I'll need your help."

             
"I'm n-not trying to be difficult, but does it
look
like I can help?" I jested, wrinkling my nose and cracking a half grin at him.  I couldn't stop myself.  Despite my weakness and everything that'd happened to me, I felt a little giddy. 
There was hope!  I actually might survive!

             
"First, let's move you toward the door.  I don't want the guards to see us from the window," he murmured.  Then, in preparation, he pushed his cloak off his head to reveal a ponytail of wavy blonde hair pulled tightly at the base of his neck.

             
Beneath the expanse of purple velvet, he also sported a trench coat.  And, considering it was only late November, I briefly wondered why he'd layered so heavily. 
The weather didn't get that bad 'til January. 
Regardless, my inner ramblings were easily forgotten when he reached forward and slid his arms under my belly. 
Shit!
Instantly, my heartbeat boomed and my consciousness teetered on the edge.

             
"I realize this hurts and it's going to get a whole lot worse.  Still, you must remain quiet.  Excess noise will cause the guards to check on you.  And we don't need them becoming suspicious.  That said, if they do come, I'll disappear and return as soon as they're gone.  I won't leave high court without you.  I promise."  He hesitated, his expression exuding concern.  "Are you ready?"

             
"Um, I g-guess," I whimpered, dread permeating my soul.

             
"Okay, here we go."  And with that, he proceeded to gently carry me to the blind spot.

             
We both ignored my chains as they clanked on the concrete, even though the metallic echoes were shards of glass piercing my skull.
 
All the while, my skin screamed and my vision grew dim.  I yearned to shriek every cuss word in the book, to find some method of relieving the unfathomable depths of my suffering. 
But I didn't
.  Instead, I gritted my teeth and hoped I'd pass out.

             
As Adrian steadily sat down, he hugged my trembling body to him like I was an abused child who required the most warmhearted affection.  However, in spite of this carefulness, the wounds on my back had reopened and his clothes were now absorbing the dampness. 

             
For a few moments, it was all I could do to simply bury my face in his chest and breathe.  I allowed his scent to comfort me, to help me overlook the state of my lacerations.  He smelled of home, reminded me of the dreams we'd shared while I slept in the safety of my own bed.  And, after a bit, the pain began receding just barely. 

             
"I apologize, darling, we can't wait a second longer," he whispered, lifting up my chin and brushing a couple clumps of hair from my eyes.  "You must feed, so you'll regain the ability to stop time."

             
On cue, my mouth watered and my fangs extended.  "Did you, um, bring b-blood with you?" I asked eagerly, glancing at his pockets and praying that I hadn't accidentally crushed even the tiniest portion of smuggled fluid under my weight.

             
"No, not possible," he replied with a shake of his head.  "When the king agreed to the meeting, he put several restrictions in place.  Among other things, weapons and food weren't sanctioned.  His guards searched me and my helicopter for contraband thoroughly upon arrival.  If you can believe it, they actually confiscated the flare gun in my emergency kit."

             
"Then how am I supposed to f-feed?" I complained, stomach grumbling as my fangs started to retract.
  And helicopter?  Adrian owned and knew how to fly a freaking helicopter?  This weird life I'd gotten tangled up in never ceased to amaze...

             
"You'll need to take nourishment from me," he explained, pushing back the coat and shirt sleeves covering his right wrist. 

             
"Hold on a m-minute, why can't you just poof me outta here?"
  The idea of feeding from him made me nauseous; I remembered the awful taste of my own vamp blood.  And, besides, what if it bonded us in some way?
 
Jeesh.
  "For real, uh, wouldn't using your p-powers be easier than forcing m-me to snack on you?"

             
Chuckling softly, he slid his wrist closer to expose a cluster of throbbing blue veins.  "If it were feasible, darling.  Alas, I'm not nearly as strong as you are.  I can move
myself and small items, nothing more."

             
"Won't giving me blood z-zap your energy?"

             
"Yes, that's why I'm only feeding one of you."

             
"One of us?"  I faltered for a moment, brain foggy, until recognition finally hit.  "Oh, you mean Lucien!  P-Petrus told me he's alive, yet I haven't c-communicated with him.  Is he okay?"

             
"Once my meeting with Tsedaka ended, I briefly stopped by his cell.  I needed to size up the extent of his injuries in order to prepare for our escape.  Thankfully, he's capable of fighting..."  Abruptly,  his words broke off and he tilted his head to the left.  He must've been listening to our surroundings because, when he came back to me, his face adopted a new level of intensity.  "We have to hurry!"

             
Refusing me any more time to resist, he extended his fangs and chomped a nice-sized gash in his skin.  After which, he shoved his wrist into my mouth and held it there, forcing me to swallow as the bitterly
alkaloidal taste of his blood trickled across my tongue.  All of my senses warned me that it was poison. 
A corrosive, acid-like substance eating at the tender insides of my throat.

             
"Quit!  No more!" I pleaded in a high-pitched tone as I wrenched my lips free.  "It's disgusting!  And it hurts!"

             
"You must," he demanded sternly.  "I'm aware that it tastes awful, but it'll heal you.  And you
have
to heal.  That said, if I enter your subconscious, I can ease your discomfort as well as the taste."

             
"My telepathy w-won't work, I'm too weak," I protested.  "You won't be able to..."

             
"Don't worry, I've got quite a few tricks up my sleeve," he reassured, flashing me a playful smile.  "Really, it's all about proximity.  And, as you take blood from me, our connection will deepen making the process much easier."

             
Exactly what I wanted to hear, more goddamned bonds.
  Freaking wonderful.
  On the one hand, dear old daddy'd torture me and probably kill me; on the other, I'd grow closer to my hubby-to-be.
  Hmm, like there was a choice.  Sigh.
  "Whatever, g-go ahead and m-mind melt me already."

             
"As you wish, my love," he beamed, replacing his bleeding wrist over my mouth and solidly meeting my gaze.  "Know me." 

             
Immediately, his words pulsated through my very being, inducing visions much the same as when he'd taught me the waltz.  However, this time the scenarios were more deliberate, crawling leisurely across my psyche.  Furthermore, I didn't completely lose touch with myself.  Strangely, his experiences were synergistically woven into my current reality.  So, in some far-off capacity, I still tasted his nasty blood and felt the soreness within my throat.  Although, now, the whole ordeal had transformed into a much more tolerable situation.

             
The first memory Adrian showed me was of our prophecy, the one predicting we'd be mates.  I saw a man, who Adrian knew to be Michel, standing in front of him with a scruffy gray beard and a shriveled physique. 

             
"A long sought daughter of our righteous red," Michel poetically drawled.  "She will forever and eternally be your mate, space-time will merge into a solitary whole, and the sands of destiny will shift."  As he finished, I sensed Adrian's whirlwind of a reaction. 
Happiness.  Sadness.  Relief.  Fulfillment.

             
And, as if I'd seen enough, the vision dissipated.  I returned to the present to be hastily bombarded by the unrestrained impact of Adrian's crimson energy.  The putrid taste coated my entire mouth, hideous in its warm viscosity and its odd similarity with living razor blades. 

             
To avoid puking or screaming in pain, I tried to concentrate on the prophecy.  Regrettably, however, my haggard intellect couldn't make heads nor tails of it.  So, instead, I forced my mind to focus on Adrian's emotional response. 
Why
the feelings of sadness and relief?  Granted, I got the happy and fulfilled part.  But why the rest?

             
Obviously hearing my questions, he nodded and sent me a flood of images.  A blink of an eye later, I knew six hundred years of Adrian's dating history.  I felt the shame of his infertility, saw the aristocratic women repeatedly snub their noses at him over his mother's hybrid heritage, and understood his consequent sadness. 
He'd always been alone.
 

             
A second surge allowed me to relive his upbringing as an only child.  At the young vampire age of thirty, his mother had been assassinated.  His father, unable to deal with the separation, took his own life shortly thereafter.  And his aunts and uncles, well, they disowned his family long before any of those unfortunate events occurred.  No one appreciated a hybrid marriage back then, especially among the nobility.

             
Regardless, Adrian had to go on.  Therefore, he found it necessary to seclude himself from vampire society, eventually enduring the long ship ride to America in hopes of change.  Sadly, the prejudices were deeply entrenched.  So, for hundreds of years, his human slaves and the vampires he created were the closest he ever came to a real family.

             
As the scene dissolved, I started to regard my prophesied mate with an unseasoned compassion.  A spot in my heart softened and I rethought my harsh judgment of him.  I also surveyed the state of my body, noting a dramatic decrease in my pain level.  My neck no longer throbbed as badly and my back's piercing ache had lessened.  And, sure, the taste still hideously scratched at my sanity, nothing could've changed that.
  But my world was a little better, my strength definitely on the rise.

             
Just as I was about to wiggle away from his blood flow, another memory inundated my perceptions.  One that revealed Adrian's mindset in the minutes following our first dream.  I felt the love he had for me, how strongly he craved my touch, and the pervasive sense of relief that integrated it all. 
He'd finally met me after waiting two decades
.  And so, with reverence, he looked toward the heavens and solemnly thanked the universe for bringing us together, for giving us a chance.

             
Slowly, my full awareness emerged to find him removing his wrist and propping me up so that only inches separated our faces.  "Your skin," I pointed out, my voice sounding healthy.  "It's paler.  Did I drink too much?"

             
"There's no need to worry, my love.  I'm strong."  Pausing, he stared off into the distance for a moment before returning his attention to me.  "I am irrevocably and unconditionally in love with you, Luna.  You must know that now.  Nonetheless, I wanted to say the words."  And then, with the confidence gained from centuries of practice, he kissed me.

             
If truth be told, the guy deserved some credit; he didn't flinch a bit at the disgusting aftertaste in my mouth.  He simply spread me apart and seductively interlaced his tongue with mine.  As a result, tingles exploded across my body and I was instantaneously breathless. 

             
His lips were inviting, pulling me closer and compelling me to return his kiss with unremitting wildness.  Passion gushed between us, repressed from months of dreamscape cuddling.   And, since we never broke eye contact, his baby blues opened a fire in the pit of my stomach that made me wanna tear off my already shredded clothes.

             
"I wish we had more time," Adrian purred, scooting away from me slightly.  "We'll have to continue this later."