Midnight Unveiled: Lunar Eclipse Series, #2

By Kristina Canady

*** Intended for Adults 18+, for mature content. This is not a standalone.***

He wants her – a beautiful trophy for his collection, but she's not ready to be "owned" by any relationship, let alone one that is against her will. How far will he go to possess her, and is love powerful enough to save her? Sasha Green continues her journey in this second installment of the Lunar Eclipse Series to find her place in the vampire world while grieving the human life she will be forced to leave behind. Can she find the deep, meaningful love that her soul cries out for, or will fate decide a different destiny for her heart?

Etienne thought his past demons would finally be banished by learning to love without barriers, but when an old acquaintance crosses paths with his soul-mate, darkness threatens to claim him once again. Will a new and growing threat come between Etienne and the one he cherishes the most, or will his heart and future forever be lost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristina Canady
• Release date: Apr 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781386332985

Book preview

Chapter one

The best way to get rid of the pain is to feel the pain. And when you feel the pain and go beyond it, you’ll see there’s a very intense love that is wanting to awaken itself.

-Deepak Chopra

Sitting in the back parking lot of Stella’s Coffee Haus, I find myself getting nervous in the anticipation of his arrival. This always happens- the minute my body senses him getting close, the butterflies act up in my stomach and the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck in suspense. You would think, after all of this time, it would get easier-that my central nervous system would have built up some sort of tolerance to the overwhelming current of electricity that he elicits. But, instead, it has become more difficult and the impact has increased in intensity. I have, however, become good at acting and putting on a brave face. Despite the performance attempts, my self-composure continually wavers in his presence as I grapple with the reality of my choices. He remains the one force in this universe that can render me senseless with just one look. These days, the only way to survive our bi-weekly feedings is to hold him at a distance and keep my brick wall up at all times. In the beginning, I let my guard down, a lot. Now, my defense mechanisms are easier to maintain- as long as we keep all physical contact to a minimum. Then again, there is always sarcastic banter to help retain the distance between us should I falter.

Sasha, Etienne says with a formal nod, as he opens the passenger door and eases himself down into my new, sporty Audi sedan.

At the time, buying the car sounded like a reasonable solution that would bring me a little joy amidst my self-imposed exile of sorts, but it didn’t. I still feel just as hollow as ever.

Etienne, I reply, with an unintended bite, while keeping my gaze fixed straight ahead on the adjacent buildings. I try not to look at him as it usually rattles my soul to the core when I do. Instead, I focus on the surroundings of one of my favorite neighborhoods. I love the quaint yet modern shops here on old Pearl Street. The restaurants vary from family centric to urban and all are tucked in the middle of a beautiful neighborhood. Many of the old brick homes here have been updated to current times but keep true to their original style. The energy of this area is youthful, fun, integrative, and diverse. Stella’s is always full of an array of delightful people: college students, blue collars, art lovers, musicians, neighborhood folk out for a walk and a good cup of coffee, and I could go on. Perhaps, I miss being one of those happy people strolling around and that is why I asked to meet here.

Once again, you are going to purposefully cast your eyes away from me? he questions in his thick accent, which is primarily French, but has the undertones of what I have come to know as the vampire natal tongue- what he describes as a close equivalent to Sumerian, an ancient Mesopotamian language. God, the sound of his deep voice is like thick honey, melting through my veins.

No, Etienne, you know that it makes this too hard for me. Shall we? I vacantly answer, as I lay my wrist in his lap, signaling him to begin. My eyes aimlessly wander back out over the parking lot before coming to rest on a couple casually strolling by, laughing.

This is going to be a very hard feeding, but then again, they all are. They also seem to be getting worse with time. He sighs a heavy, defeated sigh, brings my wrist to his lips, and takes my vein without further question. The sting of his bite sends the first crack into my barrier, forcing me to bear down and breathe deep as my soul reaches for him, gnawing at the restraints I have fashioned over time, in hopes of breaking free. The gentle, soft pulls of my blood, accompanied by the warmth of his essence swelling around us, instantaneously issues the second slap across my face as my blood hits his lips. My soul lurches in my chest, crying out for him, begging for a moment of lapse in judgment.

Breathe, Sasha, just breathe. Maybe, you should think about something else… you have a full day tomorrow: a meeting at work, a kick-boxing class, and party planning for the boys. Yes, dwell on those things; it will be over soon. Is that Cosette’s perfume on him? The thought threatens my composure as anger fires up within me.

Etienne’s essence starts to snake up my arm, causing my skin to tingle, leaving goose-bumps in its wake, distracting me from the dangerous trail I am headed down. Breathe, Sasha. Pulling in another deep and tortuous gulp of air, I try to hold my ground. One, two, three, four, five… I count in my head as I attempt to pass time. Etienne then lets out a profound rumble from his chest as he latches more firmly, igniting my desire for him. Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! I struggle against my body’s forceful need to be up on his lap and all over him like butter on toast. I am melting against a familiar lick of fire that is running through me. Ice, Sasha, imagine ice coursing through your veins, and let it extinguish the fire within. Closing my eyes, I picture a tall, cold glass of water in my free hand. The glass is freezing and numbs my fingers. Invoking the sensation from memory, I slowly try to move it up my arm. Inch by inch, I am attempting to numb myself from the heat his presence always triggers.

The old ‘ice queen’ trick again? he mumbles, as he closes my wrist, sensing what I am doing. The minute his mouth leaves my skin, his essence retracts, leaving in its absence a searing pain that radiates up my arm and across my chest. It is as if I have just removed my hand from a blazing stove top instead of his mouth. I begin to break out in a cold sweat from the pain; it will only get worse throughout the night. These days, it is always like this- the post feeding pain. In the beginning, it never happened, but now, it is spreading and intensifying after every feeding. As I move my hand from his, the pain becomes so extreme that I unintentionally cry out.

Sasha? he attempts with distant worry.

I am fine, Etienne, I say, trying to compose myself.

Are you really, ma chérie? Because, it would appear that you are most certainly not ‘fine,’ he says, as I feel his gaze burning into me while I try and keep my eyes trained forward. I clench my jaw to hold back the tears and the need to scream. He reaches up and cups my face, and his warm touch soothes the pain immediately, as if it was never there to start. My shoulders drop at the relief, and I let out a long sigh.

How much longer must you subject us both to this torture? he angrily whispers, his patience wearing exceptionally thin this evening.

My words fail me, and a tear finally escapes from the vault I usually shut my emotions behind. He takes my chin and forces me to face him. As his thumb wipes away my single, traitor of a tear, I glance up to meet his stare. After all of this time, the sight of him still takes my breath away. His piercing, electric-blue eyes seem to glow with hints of an unnatural green; they are set off by the backdrop of his perfect, Mediterranean olive-toned skin. Tonight, his long, wavy, dark hair is slicked back and tied at the base of his neck; he looks more Italian than anything right now- especially considering the finely-tailored suit he is filling out perfectly. He could be the next James Bond; he dresses just as nice, is as stealthy- if not more so, and has many of the mannerisms to boot- though he emanates a lot more aggression and danger. This explains why I was willing to accept the idea of him being in the mob over what he really is back when I first met him.

Hitching my breath under the weight of his intimidating presence, I struggle to respond. Why does it keep getting more painful after? It never used to hurt.

Isn’t it obvious? he says confused, not understanding why I haven’t figured it out already.

No, it isn’t. Not to me. What is he getting at? If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.

Sasha, must we revisit the destiny issue? I am tired of replaying over and over our initial contact back when you transitioned and how it set into motion a chain of events that we cannot undo; you know all of this. Do you not see that the more we deny it, the more we will be punished? Our souls want what they want; there are significant repercussions for rejecting it. He is becoming more irritated.

Well, that is just stupid, I say without thinking, and look away. The last thing I want to do is say something to set off his temper. Surprisingly, it doesn’t quite do it, yet. He drops his hand from my face, sending a rush of pain back through my body in its absence. Without thinking, my mouth runs away with me again. Shit! Do you even hurt, or is it just me?! What happens if I still want to wait? Will this just keep getting worse, until it’s as bad as when I turned? Does this happen to Cosette? I bite out, as I wrap my arms around myself. I feel his anger finally flair as he slowly and lethally leans across my seat and hovers his face inches from mine.

How dare you imply that you are the only one in pain. Just because I may be more accustomed to it, and have more experience dealing with it, does not mean I hurt any less! And don’t you dare bring her into this! he snarls in a deep, threatening tone. I should be afraid, especially with that feral look radiating from him, but he doesn’t scare me. I suppose I went too far again. Well, it was bound to happen. I tend to lash out at him, often. I really need to stop that- none of this is his fault. He, too, is caught in the cross-fire of the universe’s sense of humor. Do not forget that I did not ask for any of this; I was content prior to your ostentatious arrival into my life, he tacks on for good measure, attempting to hurt me for my underhanded jab at his previous blood partner, one he still looks after.

His words bruise my otherwise empty heart. That being said, I don’t have the will to fight with him. Etienne, I am sorry; I didn’t mean to imply that, and I do understand that you cannot leave her hanging, this is hard for both of us, I reply meekly. The more I disconnect myself emotionally from those around me, the more I lose my will to stand up for myself. I am knowingly becoming a doormat. The old adage by Peter Marshal, If we don’t stand for something, we shall fall for anything, is not lost on me. He shifts back into his seat as he stares blankly out the windshield; he looks exhausted.

Sasha, do you really want to know what will happen if we continue on this path? he questions more calmly, though his rage is not far. A touch of melancholy quickly passes over his face before it hides behind his clenched jaw.

Might as well. Even as I say the words, I don’t want to know the answer, but I am trying to get myself to care about anything beyond my children- the two people in this world who can stir to life my diminishing joy and happiness.

We are both at risk for losing our humanity. Over time, we will be consumed by so much pain and angst in each-other’s absence that it will drive us mad. The only way to deal with that level of stress will be to shut off our emotions completely- to switch off our humanity, and to stop caring about right or wrong, or anything in between. All of which equate to our imposed threat upon humans and vampires, alike, he says, hinting that I should read between the lines as he fears I am closer to that becoming a reality than we both care to admit.

Meaning that we would be put to death at the hands of The Guard, I retort, absently. Maybe that would be better than this vortex of hell I seem to have sucked myself down into.

Yes.

The Guard is what the vampire military, police-like force calls itself; Etienne is responsible for overseeing the entire military operation in the United States. I learned first-hand why they are necessary awhile back- some vamps feel like humans are prey and that there doesn’t need to be a balance between humans and vamps. They are also prone to thinking that vamps should rule the world because of their superiority- a fact that Etienne never misses an opportunity to point out. His easy dismissal of humans, despite his sworn oath to protect both species, is just one more thorn between us at this point.

I can’t do this right now. I understand what you are saying, but I need more time, I exhale, as I fight the heat between us and hold onto my preferred vacant state. The enormity of it all is still something that I do not want to face; I would much rather wallow in my river of denial.

As you wish, he says in complete defeat, and lays his wrist on my lap for me to do what I please. In the end, this very strong-willed male, who makes most tremble in his presence, cannot deny me anything, even if it contributes to his ruining. In the beginning, he tried to ignore his desire to please me and the connection we had- we both did. Neither of us wanted to admit it, nor did we want it to be true. It is difficult to see this powerful and frightful male in a state of defeat, let alone, know that I am the cause of it. I don’t have the strength to feed from him tonight. What a catch twenty-two. I really can’t live with him, and I can’t live without him. Lord knows, I have tried! Feeding from him now would mean me having to fight another wave of our essences pulling for each other. Imagine trying to hover two very strong magnets just over one another without allowing them to touch, despite the extreme pull. We just fed Monday, and today is Thursday; I can make it until next Monday.

Not tonight, Etienne; I just don’t have the strength. He nods and pulls his arm away.

Café? he says with hope, still not wanting to part from me this soon.

No, how about we try again Monday? I‘m not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to come here; we should have just met at the park like we usually do. He just shakes his head absently to himself. We are both at a loss.

Oui, Monday it is. With that, he gets out and disappears into the night without another sound. His sudden absence stings horribly, as if someone has just ripped a giant Band-Aid off my entire body. Grabbing at my chest, I try to breathe through the waves of torture. It looks like I may have to spend the next few nights in the spare room- the aches and night sweats are going to be particularly bad. The physiological response my body now experiences at Etienne’s departure is the main reason I shut down any visits beyond feeding early on in our relationship, including any training sessions with him at the warehouse. I could care less about developing my gifts or exploring their roots and have made it a point to avoid using the majority of it as much as possible; all I really want to do is ignore its existence.

∞

Eight years have passed since my transition- eight long years of self-imposed torment so that I may relish in the short time I have left with my family. When I had committed to this path, I figured that with my long life span, it would work out okay this way- to hold onto my cake and eat it later, so to speak. Having the boys grow up without me was not a risk I was willing to take.

They have become fine young men who are getting ready to go off to college. Their high-school graduation is in a few days- an event that I very well could have missed if I had run off into the night like I so desperately wanted to do. Then, what? Have my two children grow up thinking their mother abandoned them or didn’t love them or want them? That would be an outcome that could potentially screw them up for the rest of their lives. Who knows what story Stephan would have told them. Even if it had gotten to a point where I was forced to leave for their safety or to give them a better life, I always had a backup plan that would have allowed me to convey my unconditional love and support to them, while praying for an opening later in life that would allow me to give them the explanations they deserve. Selfishly speaking, I didn’t want it to have to come to that; I wanted to be there in-person for every sprained ankle, science project, game-winning shot, and awkward first date.

After the summer is over, Stephan and I will be sending them off to Stanford, where they will play basketball on a partial scholarship. I still can’t believe what handsome and talented young men they have grown into. Both are well over six-feet tall- not something they got from Stephan or I; we have chalked it up to my birth-father’s genes, as that is the only explanation. As far as the athleticism; that would be from me- Stephan is not an athlete in the slightest. While Stephan has been traveling a lot for work the last few years, I had arranged for the boys to attend basketball summer camps to sharpen their skills for the college scouts. It ended up being the second-best thing I could have done for their future careers- the first being the initial shove into the sport. There were some pro-scouts sniffing around their games during their junior year, but that ended quickly after I used my extra-special skills to deter them. Human mind manipulation, or clouding as we call it, is one of the few skills that I am not rusty on. I try not to use it often, but have found it useful to throw off humans who are asking too many questions. One must be careful with it; if used too much, then people might start to suspect that something is up. Plus, I don’t believe in completely messing with fate or mind-manipulating to get ahead; it just feels wrong to do that. My boys got into Stanford all on their own with their amazing skills and smarts.

When they started fifth grade, I cut my hours at work to part-time and threw myself into volunteering at their school, bussing them to practices and games, and tutoring them when needed. That was about the time Stephan was promoted at work, and one of us needed to be around more for the kids; I relished the opportunity considering their mortality and my semi-immortality.

Stephan is primarily called to Beijing for work trips these days, then sometimes to various parts of Europe. He is usually gone for two weeks at a time. I just hope that he makes it back in time for the boys’ graduation ceremony on Saturday. They have worked very hard and are now seeing the fruits of their labor. It would be a shame if Stephan missed this, just like all of the other recent benchmark events that he couldn’t find time for. They still haven’t forgiven him for leaving town the day before their last state championship game. The part that drew my attention the most about that situation was his seeming lack of remorse, which was out of place for him.

Come to think of it, Stephan most likely took the new job promotion that required frequent traveling as a way to distract himself from our home life. He never was the same after the first time I got sick from not having enough blood. He felt rejected when I would not risk his life just to satisfy his ego. Sex, or any intimate contact, became a biological thing we did out of necessity- one to two times a month in-between his trips if we were lucky. We have remained close in other ways- actually, in all ways except intimacy. He is one of my best friends, aside from Ang, of course; I do find myself longing for his companionship when he is gone. Sometimes, I contemplate allowing him to feed me; I know it is dangerous, but this desire probably arises in an effort to please him more out of guilt as he has always been so accommodating.

Ring…Ring…Ring…

Scrounging in the depths of my purse for my cellphone, I quickly grab and answer it.

Hello? I muster, as I smooth out my scrubs and try to pull myself together from the residual effects of Etienne.

Hey babe, my flight has been delayed; I won’t be home until Friday afternoon, Stephan rushes out. He seems to be in a hurry, again.

Okay, I will call your mother to help me with the party set-up since I have to work tonight, I say hesitantly, trying to squelch my displeasure. I don’t want to upset him.

Sounds good, how is everything else going? he forces out, trying to sound more genuine.

It’s going well, just miss you a lot. There’s a new movie out that I’d love to go see if you are up for it, maybe Sunday? Hey, is it a good time to talk? There is a lot of background noise. A twinge of doubt pulls at me as I hear the sounds of a crowded room echo across the phone. I sink back into my seat, unsure of what his response will be.

Yeah, it’s fine. I’m back at the hotel… down in the lobby, he draws out.

It’s probably just my own insecurities and guilt playing tricks on me. Loving two men all these years has been tough. Even though I have kept my vows, for the most part, it does not put me in a position to twist facts. Stephan has always been honest with me, I should not doubt him now.

Oh, it’s just noisy. What do you think about the movie date-night?

Uh, sounds good. Look, I gotta go, see you tomorrow, he rushes out.

Uh, okay then. See you tomorrow.

Why does he even ask how things are going when he never wants to stay on the phone long enough for me answer him? It doesn’t upset me like it should, though, and disturbingly, I find myself caring less and less. I have become used to the distance between us and continue to hold onto hope that as the kids are getting ready to leave the nest, we will be able to start to reconnect and rebuild our marriage. He has even mentioned here and there that he is considering asking his boss if he can cut back on travel. Soon, we will be able to find what was once lost in a turbulent sea of change.

After calling Stephan’s mom for help with the party preparation, I put my car into drive and head to work. Another lovely night awaits me. Funny how, over the years, my passion for my job as a nurse has started to burn out as well. The comments along the lines of, wow, you look good for your age, and you are strong, what do you do to keep in shape? are growing in number and have become uncomfortable. It is hard to remember that I have to play human, pretend that I am not supernaturally strong, and ask for help lifting patients when I should. I have also found that I can sense changes in my patients and smell when something is off with them. Trying to explain that to an M.D. gets awkward! It is also quite hard to get them to agree to run specific tests to confirm my suspicions without over-stepping my boundaries. I feel like time is starting to tell me a necessary change is on the brink. Ironic, right? Now, almost a decade later, I feel like time might be telling me something. I can’t hide the fact that my physical appearance is not maturing at a normal rate; in another ten years, I really am going to have a lot of questions from those around me- most likely, what’s your secret? or who’s your plastic surgeon? Stephan is even starting to grey a little and has sprouted a few laugh lines. Every time he looks at my young, 20-something face, I can tell he is asking himself if he is going to look like the old pervert who married a woman 30-years younger. He is aging well, but it is still more rapidly than I. Apparently, vampires age at a snail’s pace compared to humans. Erik once told me that post-transition, one vampire year becomes approximately equal to about ten to twenty human years when comparing the maturing of our supernatural bodies. Ang thinks it’s wonderful, but she also suggested that I start dying my hair grey to help my cause. Then, I have to ask, what’s next: movie make-up to add laugh lines and crow’s feet? That could be fun.

Chapter two

The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too. -Ernest Hemingway

The family party for the boys’ graduation went great. Mrs. Green showed up early on Friday and had almost everything ready by the time I woke up from my nap. All we had to do was heat up the food for the party once we got home from the ceremony the next day. Everyone left a few minutes ago, along with the boys themselves- they went back out with all of their friends. Finally, Stephan and I get to be alone. We can clean up tomorrow. Tonight, I am going to slip on some new lingerie that I recently purchased for this very night in hopes of spicing things up; now is our time to enjoy the empty nest. We desperately need some quality bonding, and that also means committing one-hundred percent to doing what it takes to make this work, which may require putting in more effort than we are both probably comfortable with or used to.

Sneaking upstairs while Stephan is finishing up watching his news show, I light some candles to set the mood. Then, I pull out the soft, creamy satin from its drawer, and a little twinge of excitement runs through me as I cut the tags off of the baby-doll negligée and put it on. It barely contains my breasts and has a slit up the front, which parts to reveal my midriff and matching thong. All dressed up… or down as one could say, candles lit, and decked out in his favorite pair of heels, I’m ready. Well, trying to be, that is. This feels very unnatural to be doing this with him, but I fight that part of my brain and tell it to go stuff a sock in it as I call him to me.

Stephan, can you come here a minute? Turning off the lights, I sit back on the bed in a seductive pose as his footsteps begin up the stairs.

Yeah, what is it? he replies with the same disgruntled tone as if I have asked him to take out the trash. He rounds the corner before stopping in the middle of the doorway at the sight of me. Oh! Sash, this is nice and all… he trails off. Why does it seem like he wants to add a but to the end of that?

But what, Stephan? I start to feel self-conscious and immediately sit upright.

I really just wanted to relax; I’m still exhausted from the jet lag. He doesn’t move an inch and looks as if he wants to flee.

Great. Isn’t this dandy, I think, as my stomach knots up at the rejection. See, this is why I would rather shut-off all of my emotions and live in denial- being vulnerable doesn’t hurt nearly as much then. What is up with him? I am a sexy, attractive, vivacious woman!

Stephan, what is going on? You never want to talk to me anymore or have sex with me. The kids are leaving for college soon; this is supposed to be our time! I unexpectedly shout with more anger than intended due to my frustration.

Sasha, do we have to do this right now? He slumps his shoulders and stubs the toe of his black dress shoe in the carpet like a kid who’s in trouble.

Do what? Talk for once? I feel my cheeks start to flush under the weight of the refusal.

Fight, I don’t want to fight, he says with unease, as he motions to take a step back but decides it might upset me more, so he leans into the door-frame instead.

Who says we need to fight? Just talk to me, Stephan! I lash out, as a distantly familiar wave of irritation breaks through the numbness I typically hide behind.

He sighs and walks over to the bed and sits next to me. Sash, it is hard to talk to you, especially when you are like this. He nervously folds his hands into his lap.

What do you mean? Like what, Stephan? What the hell is he insinuating? Pins and needles begin to work their way over the tips of my fingers. I have gone from calm to defensive in less than sixty seconds.

Sasha, ever since you… changed, things haven’t felt the same between us. It was hard enough to accept what you transformed into- and to believe the unbelievable. I guess I was holding onto hope that you would still be the same woman I married despite the new developments. You haven’t been the same, though, and you rarely seem happy anymore. It’s hard to talk to you. His attention is drawn away as his cellphone vibrates in his pocket.

I know, but that happens a lot in a marriage; now is our time to get back on track, to start growing together- tap back into what we saw in each other when we were teenagers, I rationalize, trying to see what his point is and glazing over the deeper meaning of his confession.

That was a long time ago; we have grown apart. We are not the same people these days. I think… He starts to fidget with his phone as he struggles to find the right words.

You think what? I say, cutting him off, not giving him a chance to think.

He looks me straight in the eye. I think we need to get a divorce, he unexpectedly says without hesitation.

Jesus, he just took me off-guard. Well, don’t hold back, Stephan- just come on out and say it. I don’t know what to think or say or do. I am stunned. All of