The Chalice (Luna Vampire Series) (7 page)

             
"Well, late one evening, Michel came to my bedside following a long night of meditation.  Now, before I speak of his foretelling you must understand that it will sound fairly cryptic.  I promise I'm not being coy; this is merely the nature of things."  He paused and raised his eyebrows in earnest, apparently waiting for a response.  However, when I simply gaped back at him in wordless confusion, he pressed on.

             
"So, he woke me and these were his words: 'The moon will find its mate in two hundred years less five, a half blood daughter shall rise the throne, on a path of red tinged white with purple and black, she'll steer our race into its rightful place.' "  He concluded his
story
by taking an unconcerned swig of wine, as if he'd explained it all.

             
"What?" I asked, squinting at him in agitation. 
Seriously, he might as well have been speaking in Greek or Japanese. 
"You're making absolutely no sense.  1791?  And a prophecy?  Whatever, dude.  You must think I'm a damn fool." 
How long had he been off his medication?
Or the more appropriate question, how long had his 'seer' been off his medication?

             
Without missing a beat, Tsedaka adopted his indifferent monotone and added, "There's another piece of evidence, child.  This I must show you."  Promptly, he removed his suit coat and rolled his shirt sleeve to the elbow.  Then he held his arm out to me, palm facing up.  "Do you see my birthmark?  It's a moon, the same as yours."

             
"Um, uh..."

             
He nodded at me reassuringly.  "I know this'll take some getting used to and I'm sorry for that.  Regardless, it's the mark of my royal line and it proves you're my daughter, unequivocally."

             
In that moment, my emotions were a disoriented hodgepodge of outrage, horror, and sadness.  The instant he'd done the big reveal, my mind had been flooded with a memory from when I was eight years old.  As a part of a school project, I'd asked my mom why she'd chosen my name.  And she'd said it was because of my crescent moon.  "I, uh, my mom told me that my father and I shared the same birthmark.  But I, uh, I mean, I'm not sure..." 

             
"I realize this is a lot to process."

             
"Yeah, it definitely is."  Head spinning, I stared awkwardly at my hands in an attempt at focusing my thoughts.  "Okay, hypothetically, if you're my dad, then how is it that you were alive in the 1700s?  And I still don't see how a prophecy,
or whatever
, helped you find my mom on the side of the road." 

             
I scrubbed my hands over my eyes in frustration.  Perhaps this creepy dude actually was my father; he did share my birthmark.  And, honestly, it was one sound piece of evidence. 
How many guys had the exact same moon on their forearm?  Granted, he could've gotten a tattoo, but it would've been impossible for him to discover the information by digging through my trash. 
Nevertheless, he was also certifiable.  And, father or not, I didn't feel safe around him. 
He had kidnapped and tortured me, after all.

             
Tsedaka frowned in disappointment.  "Luna, I must remind you that it was your choice to refuse the chalice.  Therefore, it was also your choice to prolong your suffering in the changing room.  It wasn't mine.  You tortured yourself
and it almost resulted in your death.  If you remember correctly, I saved your life by forcing you to drink."

             
"Piss off, asshole.  You're..." 

             
"I know," he interjected curtly.  "You hate me.  I'm a crazy lunatic.  A kidnapper.  A torturer.  Yadda, yadda, yadda.  Yet, before your charming outburst resumes, I think it's most prudent for me to address your questions.  I found your mother on the side of the road because, all that year, I searched for her.  The first time our eyes met, I knew she'd carry my prophesied child.  And, I lived during the 1700s because I'm what you'd call a vampire.  More precisely, I'm the king of all vampires in the United States.  And you are their princess, the sole heir to my throne."

             
"A vampire? 
Yeah right.
  You're such a deluded freak."  I stood up, spreading my arms wide.  "Something's going on around here, I definitely believe that, but it's not vampires."  I briefly feigned contemplation.  "Oh, I know what it is!  You escaped the psycho ward!" 

             
Unable to control myself for even a second more, I busted into a fit of giggles. 
Vampires?  Prophecies?  And I'm a vampire princess?  Yeah, okay, in what alternate reality?
  I got to laughing hard enough that I almost peed my pants.  I probably would have if my body hadn't been so dehydrated.

             
"I know this will take some time," Tsedaka snapped, suddenly rising to his feet.  "Come with me,  I'll show you to your rooms."  And with that, he turned and headed back down the tunnel.

             
I schlepped along for several paces until recognition smacked me in the face. 
Rooms?  Huh?  I thought I was being released. 
"Wait a minute," I hissed, rage shivering up my spine.  "You said that if I drank the stuff, I'd be able to leave.  That was our deal.  I'm not staying here."

             
I tensed my muscles and readied myself to bolt, to escape, when his hand snaked out and latched onto my elbow tighter than a vice grip.  "The deal," he growled, "was that if you drank from the chalice you'd have the tools to liberate yourself from the changing room."  He lurched forward again at a brisk pace.  "I held to my end of the bargain, child."

             
"This is fucking bullshit!" I yelled, blood boiling.  "You can't keep me here forever.  People are bound to start looking for me.  And one of these days somebody's gonna call the cops, you sick piece of crap.  I'll..."

             
"We've arrived," he broke in, abruptly stopping us in front of an impregnable metal door complete with a numeric keypad.  He then used his free hand to type in the code, all the while, keeping me shifted aside to ensure its secrecy.  A muffled click later, the lock disengaged.  "Go on inside, Luna.  I know you're angry.  In time, I hope you'll understand and come to forgive me."

             
"I hate you!"

             
"I'm aware of that," he groaned, releasing my arm and nudging me through the doorway. 

             
I cringed at the idea of being locked up again, but I refused to show it.  Obstinately, I squared my shoulders and shot him the stank eye.  "You're a lying sack of shit!  I'll get outta here, and when I do, your ass is going to prison!  I don't care if you
are
my dad!"

             
He winked and bowed smugly, unfazed by my outburst.  "Bathe and dress in the clothing that's laid out on your bed.  I'll return for you in a few hours."

Chapter
6

             
As the lock engaged with an audible click, I noticed a light on a nearby keypad change from green to red.  Logically, I knew the door was secure as a fortress.  Nonetheless, I still jiggled the metal handle and pulled with all my strength. 
No luck.  Surprise, surprise.
  My captors had trapped me, yet again. 
I desperately wanted to curl up into a ball of tears, but I didn't.

             
Instead, I turned from the door to inspect my new prison and was absolutely blown away by the extravagance.  A crystal chandelier hung from a high vaulted ceiling, spreading sparkly light over crimson walls and cream colored carpet.  The center of the room contained a black leather couch and matching love seat, while two ornately carved wooden doors were positioned along the room's sidewalls, opposite each other.

             
Despite my eagerness to explore where the doors went, my stomach's growling drew me toward a mini-bar, complete with chrome bar stools, that was conveniently situated along the far wall.  I quickly found a number of fresh juices, several different types of alcohol, and a six pack of Mountain Dew, my favorite pop. 
A definite change from my cement hell!
  And you know what else?  A meat and cheese
plate sat on the counter, all laid out on a shiny silver platter. 
Thank you god!

             
Literally seconds later, I'd chugged two pops and inhaled half the meat and cheese, stuffing myself to the brim.  Regardless, hunger pains kept pawing relentlessly at the edges of my awareness.  Apparently, five days of starvation couldn't be rectified in one pig out session. 
Sigh.
  The longer I stared at the food, the more I craved it.  And, with the understanding that even one more bite might make me puke, I decided to remove myself from temptation and go back to exploring. 

             
Of the two of wooden doors, I chose the smaller one first and immediately entered into a pair of sparsely furnished bedrooms connected by a tiny bathroom.  The space felt institutional with its cement walls and floors, all unpainted, and its simple electric lighting.  And, honestly, it reminded me a little too much of the pit for my taste. 

             
In contrast, the larger door led to a gorgeous master suite.  The walls and floors matched the living room seamlessly.  And it, too, had its very own chandelier.  A wrought-iron canopy bed, along with its red velvet comforter and pillows, brought the room's boutique hotel vibe to fruition.  In short, it totally kicked ass.

             
And, as promised, a white garment bag and shoebox rested on the foot of my bed.  Shuddering, I hastily came to the conclusion that it'd be better for me to take a peek at my new clothes later. 
God only knew what they had in store for me.
 
Lingerie?  A freaky fetish outfit?  A vampire cape?  Jeesh.

             
I yearned to go collapse onto the incredibly soft and inviting mattress, but I also knew that I smelled worse than a trash can.  And I refused to soil its beautiful, clean, fluffiness. 
A bed, though!  A marvelous, wonderful bed!
  The realization flooded me with so much happiness that I actually jumped around and giggled a few times. 
No more sleeping on concrete!  Yay!

             
After collecting myself, I walked into the master bathroom which was attached to my bedroom and, as expected, it radiated pure opulence.  The floor tiles were black marble, the faucets were gold swans, and yet another chandelier decorated the high ceiling.  I felt overjoyed at the lavishness and had almost slipped into another giggling fit when my eyes focused on the large mirror in front of me.

             
I looked like dog shit. 
Sunken cheeks, pale skin, clumps of hair mixed with dried blood. 
And, even though I don't remember throwing up, I must've since chunky stains were covering the entire front of my robe.

             
Without a moment's hesitation, I turned on the shower, threw the nasty pile of fabric into the trash, and hopped inside.  I proceeded to hurriedly lather my body with a bar of fancy smelling soap, rushing to reduce my chances of being interrupted by one of my kidnappers.  And, as the layers of grime rinsed away, I noticed that my wrist and neck wounds had healed. 
I'm talking completely.  No scabs or scars.
 

             
Granted, I wasn't exactly sure how much time had really passed.  Nevertheless, the healing appeared to have occurred at an unusually fast pace. 
Had Tsedaka been telling the truth?
 
Could I be a vampire?
  I shook my head in disbelief. 
Nah, that's just the crazy's brainwashing getting to me.  They must've slipped me antibiotics or something.
 

             
Whatever the cause, I'd have to worry about it down the road.  There were
way
more life and death matters to stress over at the present.  Namely, how to escape and how to avoid being tortured again. 
Sigh.

             
Shower finished, I wrapped my head in a towel and pulled on a fresh terry cloth robe after finding both stacked on a shelf close-by.  Then I rifled through the drawers below the sink in a desperate search for any instrument that could be used as a weapon.  All I came across, though, were loads
of bath products, makeup, and even more towels. 
No nail files or scissors.
 
Damn.

             
Feeling hopeless, I returned to my bedroom to check out Tsedaka's horrid clothes and, surprisingly, found that my wardrobe wasn't the only thing waiting on my bed.  A hunk of a man in his late twenties sat there, comfortably reclining against a pile of my pillows.  He was dressed in all black except for a purple, velvet suit coat and oozed with confidence.