Crimson Moon (26 page)

Minutes passed, seconds ticking by. Every part of me hurt; my shoulder was burning in the places Parker had stretched with his thumb, my head throbbed with each beat of my heart.

Something blocked my view of the door. Large and black, it lifted me, whispering softly, carrying me into the living room.

"You're going to be fine,” the voice promised.

He—it was a man.

He placed me on the couch, arms gentle and cautious. Careful hands ran deftly over my head and shoulder, gauging the wounds and gashes.

Blackness again, swirling to the right—then gone. Something pressed against my mouth, cool and wet. I swallowed the sweet liquid once, twice, and a third time. The fog began to lift and the cool wetness against my lips vanished.

"Where is Sam?"

The terror receded and I lifted my eyes to look at my rescuer. White blond hair was cut short, the longer strands on the top spiked slightly. His skin was pale like ivory and flawless, smooth and clear. His lips were flushed and full, matching his sculpted face and nose. Black eyebrows and lashes brought out his brightly colored aqua eyes, causing them to pop. I'd never seen anyone with an eye color like it before.

"They—” I had to clear my throat, swallowing again as the sweetness lingered on my tongue. “Went to get food."

"You're a mess, I'm afraid.” He threw the trench coat around my shoulders, enveloping me in the sweet scent of fresh honeysuckle. “But you'll feel better shortly."

"You didn't tell me your name.” My teeth had stopped clacking together, the pain in my body ebbing. I sighed in relief.

"Trent.” He had the trace of an English accent, not completely, just a hint. “Sam told you I'd be coming."

"Yes,” I acknowledged, feeling odd. My body was tingling, my shoulder pain nearly non-existent. I lifted my hand to my chest, frowning in confusion.

Trent observed me perceptively, touching my right hand, placing our palms together. The crackle made me jerk, a connection developing between us like electricity running back and forth.

"What is that?” I looked at our merged hands, the current passing between us felt like a million tiny prickles in the skin. He smiled, lips curving and eyes flashing, and I was mesmerized, totally transfixed.

"Emma!” Caleb screamed from the door, his voice full of rage, panic and despair.

Trent pulled away, severing the contact. The current dissipated, leaving me empty and vacant before I could protest.

Caleb burst into the room with Sam directly on his heels. Trent moved from his place beside me and Caleb's body engulfed it. His frantic eyes raced over my face, fingers gentle as he shoved down the coat. His face recoiled in horror at the sight of my torn shoulder, a howl of fury torn from his chest.

"I'm okay,” I reassured him, strangely calm after the attack, though my voice resonated far away in my ears, “Trent got here before he could hurt me."

"He bit her, Sam,” Caleb growled, both furious and heartbroken, fingers shaking as they examined my shoulder.

Sam rushed to me and glanced down. I couldn't see the wound very well but the edges were sealing shut and the bleeding had stopped.

"Sweet Jesus,” Sam whispered in mortification. He spoke over his shoulder to Trent. “If she's been bitten, she can't leave. We can't be sure how soon she'll change."

"She won't change,” Trent informed them indifferently, leaning casually against the wall.

"She has been bitten, Trent,” Sam retorted heatedly. “I think
we
would know the outcome."

"Of course,” Trent agreed amicably. “But she isn't your average bite-tee, for lack of a better expression. She won't change, not like this anyway."

"Listen—” Caleb tried to maintain his calm but energy filled the room, rubbing against me, and I gasped.

This time it didn't sting. The hum went past my skin, absorbing into my body, restoring and reviving me. The wound on my neck tingled and I placed my hand against it, feeling the gashes closing under my fingertips. My eyes and mouth gaped open incredulously.

"See.” Trent smiled at me, teal eyes shining. “You can't change her. Not without her permission."

"Start explaining,” Sam demanded.

"It's her blood, obviously,” Trent answered him as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “You always knew our blood was special, Sam. It's the reason we guard our families so carefully. It's why we send you and your hounds of hell to protect them. Although, I must say, Emma will be much happier when she's with me. I won't leave her alone for a dinner break."

"Don't start, Trent.” Sam's eyes burned silver in fury. “You better give me a damned good explanation, and that doesn't cut it."

Trent rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms. “You always were daft, missing things directly in front of you,
loup-garou
."

He strode leisurely to the couch, sitting at my feet; one leg lifted on the cushions, the other on the floor. He smiled and my eyes fixated on his aqua ones, so bright and clear.

My heart began to pound rapidly in my chest, fluttering wildly. Caleb growled and moved closer, pressing his hand into my own. The smell of forest actually cleared my head for once, surrounding me in the comforting scent of pine and grass.

Trent's lip curved slightly at the corner in amusement.

"Emma,” he said formally. “Did you know that your family history spans hundreds of years back? In fact, you can see the family tree if you'd like when we return home. It's all there, our humble beginnings and how it all began for us. I'd like to tell you a story."

He sat back and began, as if reading a child a bedtime story.

"Once there was a normal, average farmer. He was a gentle soul, heartbroken over the death of his young bride just a year before. Each day, after he finished his plowing and tilling, he would visit her grave underneath their favorite tree. He would speak to her of their undying love, of his loss, and how much he missed her above all."

"Unbeknownst to him, someone witnessed his devotion to his lost love. Every single day she would watch and listen. She had never been in love, you see. And she was mystified by this emotion that tied someone so closely to another. In all her years, she'd never experienced anything like it. So every afternoon she'd sit in the tree out of his sight and listen to his sad words. The weeks passed into months, months into a year, and then one day she had an epiphany. She couldn't stop going to spy upon this man, this loving soul. If she tried, it would pain her to no end. You see, she not only learned about love, she was experiencing it firsthand."

"She faced a difficult choice then. Because she couldn't share a life with him as she was, and he couldn't evolve to live as she did. This meant she would have to be the one to leave her life behind. She agonized over it for days, attempting to stay away from the farmer. But her heart won out in the end, and she bid her family farewell and ventured off into the human world, taking her chances with love and mortality."

"And it came to pass that one day the farmer came to his tree to find a beautiful young maiden. They fell in love and married. And one day, the bride was both elated and surprised to discover she was pregnant. It was the first of many children, seven in all she and her husband would have together. But the fairy tale wouldn't last forever. The husband was mortal and she was not. The time came when he was too old to hear and too blind to see. She remained with him until he passed over into the next life. Her children were all grown, some with children of their own, and she was left alone. She made the decision to return to her former life, visiting the twin headstones under the tree to say goodbye. She thanked them for teaching her about love, devotion, selflessness and even heartache. Then she returned to her own people."

"But.” He lifted his finger, eyes intent. “She didn't leave this world behind completely. Her sons and daughters passed pieces of her down through the years, each generation carrying just a touch of her inside them. And it just so happened that one day a vampire met someone with a touch of that blood, and when she turned him, he displayed extraordinary abilities. She took him to her people, and everyone beheld the first trueblood ever created. It was decreed other descendants should be found, and over the years they were. Descendants like me...and you."

He finished and sat back, eyes on me.

"That's a great story,” Sam growled, clearly annoyed and at his wits end. “And what was so special about this blood that was passed down?"

"Only that it came from the most magical of races. A race from the oldest of fairytales.” Trent laughed without humor, shaking his head. “Fairytales indeed."

"I don't understand,” I admitted, twisting my fingers together nervously.

His laughter evaporated, serious once more. “A Fae. The girl who fell in love with the man was Fae. She passed a trace of her magic to each of her children, and they passed it to their children, and so on."

I didn't see Trent move. His hand was just there, encompassing mine. Caleb snarled at him, a humming and energy combined and it bristled across my skin, sinking into my muscles. It built, surging inside, too much at once.

"Stop,” I screeched in panic and fear.

"That,” Trent said, breaking contact and standing up, “Is what I mean. The magic in you has lain dormant all these years. I imagine the first time wolf boy here got too close it awakened everything."

"That doesn't explain why you can change her but we can't,” Sam interrupted.

"It's very close in nature to werewolves. Whereas there is always free will with the two sides. The Fae is a living part of her, and has a voice when choosing her future. The bite could change her if she and the Fae agree to it, but if not, it won't happen. You could bite her in a thousand different ways and it still won't matter,” Trent answered, seeming bored.

"How is she healing so quickly?” Caleb asked, astounded. He traced lines on my shoulder with his fingertips, outlining the healing lesions.

"I gave her some of my blood. That and our little show earlier sped things along. The two forces we emitted together passed through her body, and as it had nothing else to do, it tended her injuries."

"You did what?” Caleb thundered, indigo eyes shifting color in his fury as his attention diverted to Trent.

They began to bicker back and forth but I didn't hear them, one thought barreling through my mind as I touched my lips. That was the cool sweetness I'd tasted earlier, that delicious wetness that clung to my throat and mouth.

Trent's blood.

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The person reflected in the bathroom mirror looked the same. Her dark wavy hair was damp from the shower; her pale throat faintly bruised. The eyes peering back were an all too familiar hazel.

The brutal attack transpired just a couple of hours beforehand, yet my shoulder was scabbed over, the wounds completely closed. I touched my scalp. The cut there was also mending, the closed flesh no longer tender.

For all extents and purposes, I looked exactly the same. So why did I feel completely different?

Caleb, Sam, and Trent were downstairs; their voices carried up the stairs as they continued to bicker.

Trent wanted to leave in the morning. Caleb wanted another day for us. And Sam was backing his pack mate. None of them had asked me about my opinion, which pissed me off, but I left them to it. I had too much to absorb as it was.

Fae, fairies, fairytales; all of it was real. So were vampires, werewolves, and God knows what else. As much as I prided my acceptance of the unbelievable in the last few days, this was without a doubt the most improbable. My family tree consisted of mythical creatures and vampires of all things. Not to mention, I was absolutely certain I was falling in love with a werewolf.

Who are you kidding? Falling? Please. That train has already left the station.

I shut off the light and walked into my bedroom. The shelf was still on the floor, trophies and books scattered about, blood splashed along the carpet and opposite wall. I wasn't sure what Parker intended, but the memory of his body grinding against my own suggested he had specific things in mind before he finished me off. God knows what would have happened if Trent hadn't come along when he did.

Trent.

I was drawn to him for reasons I couldn't understand and the harder I endeavored to stop thinking about him...the more I did.

He was unlike anyone I had ever seen before—spectacularly stunning and striking. His alabaster skin was lovely, combined with those dark eyebrows and glistening eyes the color of the ocean.

To put it simply—he was exquisite.

Caleb sensed my bewilderment, carrying me up the stairs so he might speak privately. He held me securely in his reassuring arms, apologizing profusely for leaving my side. He didn't need to say it; I knew he felt responsible.

Now that our time was reaching an end, he regretted his decision to give me a bit of space to pack. I'd reassured him that I was fine, that it wasn't his fault, but it didn't matter. Caleb wore his guilt like a shameful badge, hidden underneath the facade he worked so obstinately to maintain.

"She needs time!” Caleb's furious voice roared through the floor. I could feel his anger in each distinct syllable. “You will not take her tonight!"

"The sooner she is with her family the safer she will be, or do I need to remind you of what I interrupted. You're lucky I showed up when I did. She could have been killed because of you,” Trent responded coolly.

"Caleb,” Sam interceded, keeping his deep voice calm and understanding. “You know she has to go. It has to happen sooner or later. Trent, can't you give them more time?"

"I've purchased the tickets and our flight leaves first thing in the morning. Her Father is expecting us. He's already commandeered a private jet for her homecoming. We discussed this, Sam."

"I want to know where you are taking her,” Caleb demanded.

"Wanting isn't getting. She will contact you when she arrives. That is what we agreed upon. Don't think that the monkey wrench you've thrown into the situation changes anything. We are not your kind.
She
is not your kind."