VAMP RISING (By Moonlight Book 1) (16 page)

              “But I don’t want to be with Christoph,” Gwen protested.

              “You don’t realize my Dear, but you already are,” said Christoph.

              “You can’t have her, Brandon,” Elektra interrupted immediately, as though whatever clarity Christoph might offer next would only serve to infuriate the werewolf further. “She’s a vampire. Don’t you get that? She’s designed to destroy you.”

              “What do you mean she’s already yours?” Brandon challenged, eyes locked on the pale vampire.

              “It doesn’t matter, Brandon,” said Elektra, fighting to pull his focus away from Christoph. “She doesn’t belong here and she doesn’t belong with you! She’ll  siphon your darkness until there’s nothing left inside of you, don’t you get it? She’ll  glamorize you into letting her drink
and you’ll think it’s your idea
! It’s your soul at risk here! She’ll kill your spirit!”

              “It has never been her idea,” he barked back.

              Elektra gasped fearfully. “She’s done it?”

              “Twice, and  it was my idea,” Brandon snarled.

              Elektra turned her intensity on Christoph and began fiercely defending her werewolf. “You promised us,” she said astonished. “She wasn’t to harm the shifters and you let her.”

              “He’s clearly fine,” said Christoph nonchalantly.

              “Are you taking this lightly?” Challenged Ismay.

              “Not at all, but what’s done is done,” he said casually.

              “This just proves our kinds can’t work together,” Ismay said to Elektra.

              “Gwen, come,” said Christoph with such command that Gwen found herself rushing to his side in an instant.

              “She’s not going anywhere with you!” Yelled Brandon.

              “Let’s let her decide,” suggested Christoph.

              Gwen felt like she was floating through a haze and suddenly couldn’t understand why no one was getting along. Her gaze drifted from face to face, as the colors around her began to blur into a beautiful mirage. Everything seemed so far away and yet the strange distance felt heavenly like the essence of peace.

              “Gwen,” said Christoph coolly, attracting her attention. “Would you like to go now, leave with me, and return to your family?”

              “Yes,” she said, as her answer echoed through her mind.

              “You’re influencing her!” Brandon yelled then shoved Christoph hard, but as his palms planted against the vampire’s chest, Christoph grabbed hold of his wrists and flung Brandon over his shoulder. Brandon flew across the room and slammed into the wall then dropped hard against the wood floor. He sprang up, fangs bared, but Elektra and Ismay had his shoulders, holding him back from further violence.

              “What a brute,” Christoph said with disgust. “I turned her. It’s my blood in her body. It’s me she craves. It’s me she comes back to. To drink away the poisonous rot you tempt her with. And it’s my power she will soon learn she can’t live without.” Christoph thrust his collar down with both hands demonstratively.

              Instantly, Gwen sank further into her hypnotic state and glided across the floor. Her mouth found Christoph’s supple neck and licked across the smooth surface, as her teeth elongated.

              “Gwen?” Brandon asked, his voice nothing more than a thread, expressing the confusion, sorrow, and disbelief that had suddenly claimed his heart.

              Though she detected the anguish in his voice, Gwen couldn’t comprehend why it was there. All she understood was that she was intoxicated by the man whose neck she was sucking and with that she sank her fangs deep, drawing blood.

              “You made your point,” said Elektra dryly, as her hold on Brandon softened into comforting rubbing. “I know you don’t want anyone thinking of her as property, Brandon, but that’s what she is. She’s indebted to him. He owns her. And he can rule her like this whenever he chooses. I’m so sorry.”

              “She promised me she wouldn’t feed off of him,” said Brandon, heartbroken.

              “A vampire’s promise is always a lie,” offered Ismay. “They don’t live by the codes of loyalty that we do. They don’t live by any codes at all.”

              Gwen drifted back from Christoph’s neck and gazed eerily at Brandon. Her voice was a melodic void, as she said, “Let me go, Brandon. Let me go where I belong.”

              “Gwen! How did you survive for nine days in the Cascade Mountains? What did you do?”

             
Pop
! A white flash pierced her retina.

              “Gwen, what was your last thought before you fell down the ravine?” Said the next voice urgently interrupting the first.

             
Pop
! The camera flashes were disorienting, as the press closed in on Gwen. She kept her head low, but still there was nowhere she could look that those blindingly bright flashes wouldn’t sting her eyes.

              “Gwen Keller! What were you doing in the Cascades at this time of year?
Why did you go there
?"

             
Pop! Pop! Pop!

              It was the question on everyone’s mind, but she didn’t have the heart to answer. If her parents had spent days in anguish over her disappearance, they’d be crushed to learn she’d kept her blood cancer a secret. Not to mention it would be impossible to explain its magical remission. Gwen was self-conscious enough that after nine days lost within the Cascades, she didn’t have a bruise to show for it. No broken bones. Not one scratch.

              “Ms. Keller needs her rest and we ask that you respect her privacy while she recovers from this traumatic ordeal,” said Martin Fuller, Gwen’s uncle on her mothers side of the family. Martin had been practicing law in Seattle for the past twenty-two years and though his work was anchored in criminal defense, he'd volunteered himself to be the buffer between Gwen and the reporters, the mouthpiece to tell her story when the time came, and that wasn’t now.

              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.

              Her 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.