The Chalice (Luna Vampire Series) (27 page)

             
I wasn't too enthused about wearing a wig either.  Nevertheless, I refused to rain on her parade. 
And fake body piercings?  Uggh!
  "Well that's, uh,
inventive
," I finally muttered.

             
"I know, right?" she exuberantly agreed, blind to the apprehension in my voice.  Then, without another word, she proceeded to dump all of her
good deals
and
precious finds
from their bags.  And, let me tell you, it was a site to be seen. 
One straight out of raver hell
. 

             
Naturally, Lucien and I cringed away from the halloween-eque monstrosity.  However, I eventually caved to her eager eyes and picked up a curly black wig.  "Um, this'll work,
I guess
.  You'll need to help me secure my hair underneath it, though." 

             
"Sure, no problem, let's go to the bathroom.  I'll bring the rest of your stuff with me and we can get you all fixed up.  And Lucien, your things are right here."  She pointed to a pile of what appeared to be black pleather.  "I figured you'd want a weapon.  That being said, the mall didn't have much to choose from.  I found you a pocketknife; it's at the bottom of the stack.  I hope that'll be alright."

             
Immediately, his demeanor warmed in reassurance, the first positive reaction I'd seen since she'd returned.  "Thanks, Amelia, a pocketknife will do.  I doubt I'd be able to smuggle a larger weapon into the club anyhow."

             
"Excellent," she beamed, arms filled with clothes.  "Come on, Luna, let's get busy!"

             
Promptly standing, I kept my head down as I embarked on the dreaded walk to the bathroom.  And fifteen minutes of foo fooing later, I sauntered back into the living room looking like freak show barbie. 
Poofy black hair, silver nose ring, charcoal knee high boots, pink fishnet pantyhose, day-glow pink miniskirt, and skin tight black mini-t.
  Sadly, a waist-length pink leopard-print coat with furry black lapels and cuffs completed the tragedy.

             
If you can believe it, she even insisted on adding a layer of glitter to my face.  The only saving grace was the getup's convenient absence of red. 
I never wanted to wear dear old daddy's stupid color again.

             
Lucien, on the other hand, was actually pretty hot.  He pulled the black fake leather trench coat, pants, and boots ensemble off without seeming the least bit tacky.  And the purple mesh shirt Amelia'd chosen was steamy, allowing a hint of his pale skin to peek through.  Beyond that, he'd used some hair gel she'd obviously also purchased to style his brown mop into spikes. 
Secretly, I thought a pair of fake nipple rings'd add a little extra flair, but I decided to keep that comment to myself.

             
"Oh, you guys match perfectly!  And everything fit!" Amelia bubbled.  "Could I paint your fingernails?  I've got this pearlized obsidian polish, it'd go great with..."

             
"No, you've done more than enough," Lucien growled, truncating her boisterous chatter with a firm wave of his hand.  "Too much time's been wasted already, the club's doors opened over an hour ago.  We really must be going."

             
I quickly agreed, desperate to avoid any more gussying up. 
This emo candy kid was fitted out.  Sigh.
  All things considered, though, Amelia had fashioned a couple fairly decent disguises.  I barely recognized myself, which meant that the lackeys would find identifying me in a crowd to be quite challenging.

             
"Sure you still wanna stay?" I asked, glancing at Amelia as I popped open the briefcase, stuffed my pockets with cash and a room key, then tossed a wad of bills at Lucien.  "You could come along."

             
"Nope, it's best if I hang here," she replied, smiling graciously.  "I need my rest, considering you guys might not be successful.  Plus, I'd like to bathe and order some food."

             
With a curt nod, Lucien grabbed my hand and led me toward the door.  Although, at the last moment, he glanced over his shoulder at Amelia.  "Don't answer the door or the phone," he cautioned.  "We'll be back before sunrise." 

             
She probably agreed, even so, my muddled brain didn't register her response.  Instead, my emotions churned with anxiety as my body went on autopilot.   We left the room and strode down the hall, Lucien steadying my resolve by continuing to hold my hand.  His reassuring stability was reminiscent of a parent crossing a busy street with a young child. 
I knew he'd keep me safe, no matter what.

             
Still, my conscience ached from the insight that we were about to go hunting for the first time.  Hunting, yep, that summed it up perfectly and was an honest contrast to the weaselly  'finding a donor' phraseology. 
For real, our victim would only be willing following a session of vamp mind mojo.
  So, in my opinion, the type of abuse of which we were preparing to partake was akin to giving a woman a date rape drug.
  Seriously, why me?  Why fucking me?  Oh wait, I know the reason.  Goddamn Tsedaka, the sleazy piece of crap.

             
So, with our psyches lingering in quiet introspection, we rode the muzak filled elevator to the lobby and hailed a taxi.  All the while, Lucien sensed my unease, intermittently squeezing my hand compassionately.  Regrettable as our moral atrocity was, we had to proceed in order to survive and my single, solitary option was to climb on board
.  One of the many repercussions of our escape, the underlying price of my freedom.

             
As the cabbie drove, Lucien's eyes scanned the dark city streets, his tension increasing along with mine.  However, his angst was a tiger-like deadly force eager to leap to my defense rather than nervousness over our impending meal.  Nonetheless, it added an extra layer of baggage to the uncomfortably silent drive that, in the end, wound up being uneventful.

             
"Here we are, Club Trance," the driver's gruff voice bellowed from the front seat, jolting me from my reverie as the car's squeaky brakes lurched us to a halt.  "Your total's twelve fifty."

             
Promptly, Lucien slid a twenty through the plexiglas partition that separated us from the cabbie.  "Keep the change," he boasted, exuding confidence.  Then he motioned for me to stay in the car, so he could survey the area.  A few seconds later, he gave me the
all clear
and helped me onto the curb.

             
"Listen, girlie," Lucien said, stepping close enough to whisper in my ear.  "Once we're inside let's find a table that's out of the way.  I'll check our surroundings to ensure it's safe, after that we can scout for a donor.  Okay?"

             
"Sounds fine to me." 
I mean, what else was there to say?  He already understood my stance on the whole donor situation. 
Regardless, I begrudgingly yielded to my lot in life and moved toward the end of the line at the entrance of the club.

             
"No, no, we'll be cutting," he chortled, placing his palm on my lower back to guide me in the opposite direction.

             
"But we..."

             
"Don't need to wait in lines," he chimed in, finishing my sentence with a sly grin.  "Come on, I'm aware that you're on one hell of a downer kick.  Nevertheless, being a vamp's got it's perks.  I saw
the Lord we can't name
do this tons of times.  It's easy."

             
And so, upon reaching the bouncer at the door, Lucien merely looked him in the eyes and calmly said, "We're VIPs, you'll let us in now."  And the guy complied, no questions asked.

             
Seeing him go all Obi-Wan Kenobi on the bouncer, helped me recognize that I'd taken the long route with the woman at the hotel.  When I'd convinced her to check us in, I supplied her with an illusion that she
chose
to mistake for reality.  It would've been a lot easier to simply give her a command. 
Huh, go figure?

             
"Now, that's enough thinking
and stressing
," he chided as his eyes darted about, nonchalantly investigating each nook and cranny for possible attackers.  "This place has a good vibe; don't you agree?"

             
"Yep, that's why I chose it.  I've always had fun here," I affirmed.
  And there's plenty of food.  Sigh.
 

             
At 11:00pm, the club was jam-packed with sweat drenched partiers.  Bass from a techno song vibrated everything, including the smoky air, and laser lights flitted above our heads creating a frenzied mood. 

             
"Check it, most of 'em have Amelia's fashion sense!" he chuckled loudly, not trying to withhold his amusement.  "I thought we'd stick out like sore thumbs."

             
Frankly, with the wig and hot pink fishnets, we did.
 
But whatever
.  Ignoring my inner negativity, Lucien led us to a large oval booth in the far corner which was already occupied by a group of grad student types.  They were happy to move, though, after a mild suggestion.  And, in a flash, we'd arranged ourselves with his arm across my shoulders, appearing to be nothing more than a happy couple out for a night on the town. 
Little did they know.

             
"There aren't other vampires," Lucien mused.  "And I don't see any slaves.  We're safe here for the moment."

             
"Well, a bit of good news at least," I replied caustically.  "So, um, are we gonna
hunt
now?"

             
"It'll be easier on your conscience if you started thinking of it as finding a donor, that's what they taught us in school anyway.  You see someone of interest?"

             
"Why do I have to pick the person?" I whined, cringing back in horror.  "And how can you be so calm?  What if our half-baked scheme of a joint feeding fails and one of us takes on a new blood slave?"
  Screw being bonded to anybody else...

             
"I can remain calm because of my training," he explained.  "And, truthfully, supposing our plan doesn't work, wouldn't you prefer choosing the person you might end up being bonded to?"

             
"Well, yeah, but shouldn't we both have a say?  Seriously, there's as much of a chance of 'em becoming yours as mine."

             
"I'm your soldier.  Therefore, it's your decision regarding who I take on as a slave.  And please don't object, I prefer it this way.  Your happiness must come ahead of mine."

             
Totally annoyed, I didn't respond.  Instead, I simply shook my head and groaned silently to myself. 
More vampire hierarchical crap, exactly what I needed.

             
A dozen songs played before I ultimately centered my gaze upon a tall, twenty something gyrating in the middle of the dance floor.  She was glittery, colorful, and absolutely adorable.  Her short, bleach blond hair was virtually white except for the light blue tips that were haphazardly sticking up in all directions.  Skinny jeans and a care bears mini-t perfectly accentuated her thin frame while a pacifier hung on a string of multicolored plastic beads from her neck. 

             
Catching on to my visual scrutiny, Lucien gestured her way.  "That one, are you sure?"

             
Was I sure?  Hell no.  But did we need food?  Yes, unfortunately.
  "Well, she's cute and isn't here with anyone.  She's been dancing by herself ever since we arrived."

             
"That settles it then, I'll go retrieve her," he declared, patting me gently on the knee.  "No worries, girlie.  Just wait for us in the front so we can walk together to the alley.  I won't leave you unprotected for long."

             
"Okay."  Honestly, I was at a loss over how to reply. 
The alley, jesus.  We were actually gonna do this. 
Acquiescing to my fate, I stood and drifted toward the exit like a zombie. 
Body numb.  Hands shaking.
 

             
Upon leaving the building, I paused on the sidewalk several feet from the main entrance, accompanied by my troubled thoughts and a cold chill from the fall night. 
What if our contrived plan went wrong?  Or we hurt her and she began screaming?
 
Or we drank too much and accidentally killed her?  Damn.

             
Standing there, time passed slowly, feeling as if hours went by in a mere five minutes.  Nonetheless, Lucien and our radiantly smiling victim eventually emerged from the club.  "This is Dawn," he announced in a sing-songy voice, making a show of our introductions.  "She's going to hang with us, to cool off from dancing in the club."