Crimson Moon (33 page)

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 the 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."

I had been told about the Prince, before but only in snippets. Each house was controlled by one person. He or she was in charge of maintaining day to day things, such as business arrangements. Money was incredibly important, and managing it was something vampires had done successfully for years. But they also kept order and balance, reporting to the Prince when things went amiss. It was his judgment that sent my Father inside your head.

Our house wasn't governed by my Father as I'd automatically assumed from the start. The man who raised him from a child, Blace DeViard, ran the house I would be tied to.

"What about everything back home?” I asked, unable to fight back my sadness. Even though I knew I had to let it go.

"I spoke with the doctor at Franklin.” Mom's face was equally sad, her eyes darkening to a ruddy brown. “Mom isn't doing so well, Emma. She hasn't been for a very long time. She is incoherent most days; the dementia has all but taken over. Right now, she's as comfortable and happy as she can be. Even if you went back, even if
we
went back, she wouldn't know us. I know you planned to return to her, but I don't think it's such a wise decision."

I nodded, tears brimming at the unexpected pain the knowledge wrought. “And the house?"

"If you want to keep the house, you can,” Dad said quietly. “And you don't have to rush to decide. Right now, it's locked up and safe. That's one decision you don't have to rush. You need to keep things as simple as you can."

"You're right.” I sniffed, forcing back tears. This was supposed to be a happy announcement, not full of the waterworks or regret. “Okay, I'll wait on the house."

"Is there anything else you need to take care of?” Mom asked quietly, her beautiful face melancholy, her private meaning blaringly evident.

I wasn't sharing what I intended to do with her or with them, but Trent probably knew. He slipped in and out of my mind as easily as I did myself. But if he heard my thoughts, he remained quiet. I suppose listening in served one good purpose, he was learning about the value of keeping his distance.

"No.” I forced my smile to be as real as possible. “I'm ready."

I sat covered in the multitude of sweaters, blouses and shirts. An assortment of varying shades of red, brown, peach, blue and purple, with a random cream and white thrown in for variety.

I decided to make that pile after all, tossing everything into the corner and running in my socks at breakneck speed to dive headfirst into the cushioned stack. I let the inner child in me resurface, allowing her to play and have a bit of fun. I missed that carefree portion of myself.

I had been serious for far too long.

I lifted myself free of the sleeves and turtlenecks, walking out of the closet and into the bedroom.

As promised, Keith had found plain stationary, placing a pen, paper, and envelope for me on the dresser. I lifted the paper and pen with trembling fingers, stepping slowly to the bed.

The pen was expensive, requiring a practice run of circles and strokes. I twirled the tip around the thick white paper, discovering the proper pressure and movement.

Words came easier than I thought. Time and acceptance eased my pain, making the task at hand easier to bear. A letter wouldn't change anything, and that's why I chose to write it. No matter what, I would always know I didn't step away without saying goodbye.

Dear Caleb,

I understand now, even if I didn't at first. I'm doing what you wanted of me, staying safe with my family. I hope in some small way it gives you comfort, as you said it would. I will never forget you or what we shared together, no matter how brief and short lived.

Please remember. You can't change the world or even control it. We're all at the mercy of the wheel of fate. The only thing you can control is how you live before the unexpected happens.

Be happy,

Emma

I folded the paper into three sections, pressing it to my lips and placing it inside the envelope. I held it against my chest, close to my heart, projecting energy I didn't have around and inside the missive so that he might sense my emotions as he opened the seal and read the words. When I finished, I returned the paper and letter back to the top of the antique dresser.

The final thing I needed to do was, oddly enough, the hardest.

I went back into the closet, reaching for the handmade box on the wooden shelf. It was tall, crafted from dark walnut; the little hinges poured from real white gold. I opened the bottom drawer, plush red velvet underlining sliding against the wood. I hesitated, nervous fingers quivering at the sight of the tiny black box that had been cast inside and purposely forgotten two weeks before.

I hadn't touched my Mother's ring since its return, only glimpsing the velveteen box it traveled within.

I lifted the lid carefully, observing the shimmering flash of light from the plain white gold band nestled inside. I removed the band tentatively, tracing my fingers over the smooth, heavy and familiar metal. I slipped the ring on to the third finger of my right hand, feeling the cool band nestle comfortably against the skin where it belonged. As if it never left in the first place.

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The flight to London was short. So short, in fact, we had no plans to stay after the gathering. We were to dress for the occasion in the jet and drive straightaway from the airport to the venue. The gathering was in a secret location, hidden in an underground site.

My Mother looked heavenly. Her thick long hair plunged down her back with two thin braids creating a crown along the top of her head. Her periwinkle dress had an empire waist that hung like a flowing wrap, accenting her small frame.

My Father was equally impressive inside his expensive navy suit with a velvet tie that matched Moms dress. His unkempt hair tumbled around his ears and neck, giving him an edge and making him appear more youthful.

Trent was mesmerizing, as always. The suit was his color of choice, black. The crisp white shirt under the jacket was unbuttoned at the top, displaying his smooth skin, and he didn't wear a tie. His blonde hair was neat, the top a tad smoother than normal. His aqua eyes sparkled inside his face, enhancing the elegant eyebrows arching over them like carefully painted brush strokes.

My dress was chosen by my Mother. It was black, the sleeves and shoulders cut into a modest front, dipping low down the back. The waist was tight, emphasizing the flared bottom that hung at the knee.

She helped place my hair into another up-do, taming my waves into perfect spirals that surrounded my face. I insisted the heels be shorter this time; I didn't want to fall down and embarrass myself.

We finished the ensemble with a necklace from my Father. The white gold chain clung like a choker in front—the charm suspended down my back. The diamond briolette necklace dangled between my shoulder blades; a cold tickle against my skin.

Today was the day we prepared for—my official introduction into vampire society. Now that I had chosen to embrace the lifestyle my parents so hoped I would, there was no turning back. Blace DeViard, the head of my Father's house, set everything into motion.

I would be changed within the month, given the next few weeks as a final human sabbatical. This Christmas would be the first I shared with my parents, as well as the first I would spend as a vampire. Tonight was the first step that would trigger an irrevocable domino effect.

We drove to the location as the sun dipped behind the horizon. We traveled to an old building, the exterior bricks and stones chipped and cracking, ancient cobbled floors uneven beneath our feet.

My Father led the way, striding past the narrow alley and nodding at the man beside the door. He was dressed in a suit, black glasses covering his eyes. He opened the door and allowed us to pass, bending at the waist. The long hallway inside was covered with various paintings, concealing the brick colored paint directly behind.

Dad motioned to an elevator and we all went inside, waiting as he came in behind us. His hand vanished into his pocket and he removed a key. He stepped to the panel and pressed it into a tiny spot along the bottom. The elevator buckled under our feet, descending quietly.

"Now, Emmaline.” Dad sounded almost stern, returning the key to his pocket and facing me. “Do not leave our sight. Trent or I must always be with you."

"I know. I'll stay close,” I promised. One nugget of knowledge had been drilled into my head repeatedly.

Do not leave their sight—ever.

The doors opened and Dad exited first, placing his arm around my Mother. Trent mirrored his movement, gently wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close.

He leaned down to whisper, “In case I don't get the chance to tell you, you're the most beautiful woman here tonight."

"Flattery will get you everywhere with me,” I teased, staring ahead and smiling. “And you don't look bad yourself."

My stomach churned as we approached two men in front of bulky wooden doors. They pulled the thick wood aside and music emptied into the hall—harps, violins, flutes, clarinets, and of course, a piano.

Crystal chandeliers hung from unbelievably high ceilings, various flowers draped across the walls and tables. Servers carried trays with wine and champagne, offering them to those standing empty handed. Intricate woven tapestries hung from the golden colored walls, matching the thick marble flooring under my feet. Directly ahead was a large set of stairs leading to a prepared platform, where wooden chairs with velvet cushions were situated.

My eyes skittered around. The people inside the room were beyond any palpable definition of beauty. Their skin, so like Trent's, was pale and brilliant; the surface perfectly smooth. Their eyes sparkled brilliantly in a broad spectrum of colors, each shimmering like diamonds. They moved gracefully, as my parents did, many of their movements too quick for my human eyes to ascertain.

The few humans were easy to identify. Our hair didn't shine and our skin wasn't as pale or luminescent. Our movements were shaky and awkwardly slow in comparison.

"How many are here for the ascension?” I whispered against Trent's shoulder.

"Six, including you,” he answered, following Dad's path across the room.

Groups of beautiful people were clumped together throughout the space. Different families, I assumed. Their voices were hushed and soft, lyrical and euphonic. I caught the attention of several vampires as we passed. Their gazes lingered on me and I felt each set of eyes, inwardly praying they weren't dipping inside my mind as well. That was one relief to be had after I changed; eavesdropping wouldn't be as easy.