Moonlit Surrender
Chapter Thirty

Lucy felt as if she were coming out of a very vivid dream as she slowly regained consciousness. She found herself in a windowless basement, surrounded by steel shelves stocked in bulk with various food items, the musty smell of wet cardboard filling her nostrils from the pile of broken down boxes to the far side of the room where a leak had sneaked its way in to soil the neat stack. For a moment, she feared she woke from a dream of the hasty escape John had made with her and she would soon replace herself still hopelessly trapped within the suffocating stone walls of Lerexus' despicable castle. A quick scan of the rest of the room quickly debunked that nightmare as she saw her once-professor digging through the contents of a duffel bag on the concrete floor.

He caught the slight movement as soon as she sat up. "How are you feeling?" he asked with a warm, but troubled smile.

Flesh tearing. Blood boiling. Screams echoing in the forest.

It really did happen.

She looked down at her hands for some sign of the difficult transformation she had suffered through but found only the usual sight of her chipped black nails. Confused, she answered, "Better."

He pulled out a heap of folded clothing and left the bag to kneel down next to her. "I know you've had more than a shock to your system, but we are pressed for time. Here is a change of clothes and a few amenities to freshen up as best you can given the circumstances."

"Where are we?" she asked through the haze of questions bouncing around in her head.

"Dress, dear, and I'll explain."

She looked over to him and saw he had already slipped into a fresh suit and straightened his tousled locks. She grabbed the clothes from his hands and slipped on the black maxi dress. "Actual clothes?" she smiled. "But how will I ever get by without my nipples exposed?" She laughed as she did a happy twirl and slipped on the matching platform sandals he set at her feet.

"Lerexus was a fool," he commented, then looked up at her with a twinkle in his eye as he buckled the straps around each of her delicate ankles. "I'd have had you in nothing but your beautiful soft skin were you my prisoner."

She laughed, the strange weight she had barely noticed settled on her soul all at once lifting and the fatigue she had been living with for weeks nowhere to be found.

You survived. You're here. And with him.

As soon as he was back on his feet, she grabbed each of his stubbly cheeks in her palms and stretched up to steal an excited and impassioned kiss. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her tightly into him. When she pulled away and regained her footing, she asked, "Are we going somewhere?"

"I'm afraid so,” he sighed heavily. "As I told you in the car, I've broken my arrangement with the Venatores. I agreed to return with them to their headquarters in exchange for your rescue. They promised to intervene before you could be harmed, but broke their end of the agreement, so I am breaking mine."

"Are they going to be okay with that?"

"I doubt they will see it the same. I've incurred their wrath now, my existence only tolerated this long in an attempt to locate Lerexus. They've wanted him for a long time. Now that he's gone, I'm sure it is I who has reached the top of their list as the oldest and therefore most powerful of his direct progeny."

"So he's really gone?" she asked, part of her still dreading his dark presence lurking somewhere out in the shadows. Flashes of the battle she had witnessed in a drained and foggy stupor flashed back to her, the sight of him fending off one of the deadly fast vampire hunters on the raised dais of the crumbling cathedral where he had suffered the fire of a kicked over brazier.

He was quiet a moment. "They set the whole castle in flames, cleansing it by fire - such is their way."

"But he escaped the last time."

John shook his head skeptically, his brow low. "He had an informant then, someone who warned him of the impending attack. He had no such warning this time. It would've been a great miracle - if that is even the right word - for him to have survived this time. They have advanced and become more coordinated since last I saw them perform a strike." She wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself, but he settled his heavy hands on her shoulders. "Rest easy, dear. This will all soon be far behind us. He is gone." He returned to the duffel bag and retrieved a small pouch of toiletries for her.

Lucy felt almost giddy at having a proper hairbrush and makeup to restore herself to her former glory. As she drew on the long wings of her eyeliner like old steps to a dance buried deep in her muscle memory, she asked, "What exactly are they? The vampire hunters? Lerexus didn't seem to know much. Do you? You've worked with them?"

"Barely. Most of my correspondence was by letter, simple and untraceable once burned. They are a very secretive organization, perhaps because they must inhabit the same shadows as their quarry and cannot risk us learning their tactics. The Venatrix I worked with seemed more a mercenary than a soldier of a well-organized army. It's rumored they use some secret ritual to fuel their unnatural longevity, but beyond that I truly do not know how she has lived so long. They seem to operate as a guild with several safe houses hidden through various territories. There is one such place somewhere here in town, which is why I was placed here and also why we need to leave as soon as possible and never return." "I see," she nodded.

"I'm sorry. I know this is sudden, to lose your life and now your home all at once."

She finished drawing the careful lines of her deep red lipstick across her plump lips, tucked the makeup back into the zipper pouch and looked over at him with a smile. "You're my home now."

He nodded, as if proud of her quick adjustment, and planted a firm kiss on the top of her hand affectionately. "Good girl." He paused and pushed back his sleeve to check his watch. "Is it time?"

"Soon. Now, as for your new... condition." He looked her over. He chuckled softly with a shake of his head. "Un-death becomes you, my dear. Damn if you don't make a stunning vampire." "Really?" she grinned excitedly and dropped her eyes to the floor bashfully.

"Truly, but there are rules you will abide by so long as you are with me."

She waited expectantly, looking back up at him to show he had her full attention.

"The thirst will be setting in soon, insatiable, ever present. It has driven lesser minds to insanity, created villains of already damaged souls, taken countless lives over the course of humanity, but you will never take a human life, Lucy. Never. Not for any reason. You will never know the taste of blood. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir,” she answered gravely, all the levity gone from her. "Never, but..." She trailed off unsurely. "Don't vampires need to drink blood?"

"Only once they have begun the endless cycle of feeding. I know this is asking much of you, because it will leave you in a strange... purgatory. A vampire's transformation is not truly complete until after the first feeding, the first bite of flesh and droplet of warm, living blood. Refusing your body this will leave you stuck somewhere in between. The thirst will not kill you in this state."

"Stuck in between? But what does that mean?"

"You are no longer human, but neither vampire. You are not living, but you do not possess the same strengths and abilities as the undead. Just about the only upside is your thirst will quickly diminish and become quite controllable. You may also replace yourself able to tolerate indirect sunlight and even look more passably human."

Disappointment lowered her brow and she looked away in an attempt to hide it. "I thought... but I want to be like you."

His knuckle slid under her chin and tilted her gaze up to him. "I want you to be better than me. Will you do this for me? Will you honor my wishes?"

Despite her disappointment, somewhere along their strange and winding journey the desire to please him and make him proud had taken the foreground of all else. "Of course I will."

He smiled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "That's my good girl." He released her and moved back to organizing the bag as he continued. "Absolutely no blood, not even the bottled stuff I use."

His punch. Is that where we are? The diner?

"You will notice a few changes, though. Night vision, firstly, such as now."

"Now?" she asked confused.

"Look around, sweetheart. There are no lights down here."

She looked around in shock as she saw his observation was true, not a single light illuminated the basement storeroom.

"You will not suffer fatigue, though you may not replace yourself as strong as a full-fledged vampire. Because you retain some semblance of your mortality, you may replace that some bodily functions still work, such as a heartbeat or the ability to digest. It is different for everyone, though not well studied since most vampires give in to the thirst almost immediately. I must admit, it will be interesting to observe you and take note of the differences we replace. Given the lineage of blood coursing through you, you would normally discover some sort of hidden talent, such as a form you're able to shift into. Lerexus could take the form of a wolf. I myself can shift into a bat, but there are some known to take the form of other beasts: foxes, ravens, serpents, to name a few. These are all fairly standard, but there are others with gifts such as telepathy, multiple shapeshifting forms, teleportation, or even the ability to speak with the dead. There are many unique gifts a powerful vampire may inherit. We shall see if something is still able to stir in you given the power in your blood now."

"I'm powerful?"

He chuckled kindly. "Yes, dear, even in your halfway state. You have ancient blood in you. It is your potential. We will work together to ensure you are your best self. Lerexus did no favors for Doris. I pity her," he added softer. "Lost in the dark, left to replace her own way. He claimed she was unexceptional, but the truth is he simply did not care to take the time to cultivate her potential. She was only a pawn to him, utterly disposable. I promise never to abandon you like that." She chuckled gently and felt warmth spread through her cooled body. "I would never have worried about that. You are nothing like him. If he was one to fail at cultivation, you, Johnathan Wright, have a fucking green thumb. It's hard to imagine anyone not blooming beneath your touch."

"That's kind of you to say, but my touch is not for everyone. This you know."

She felt a strange vigor coursing through her, raw energy with none of the mortal exhaustion that once held her back, and it all seemed to settle deep in her womb. "Well, your touch is certainly for me."

He smiled as he caught her lusty gaze trailing over him head to toe. "There will be plenty of time for touching soon enough, princess. There is more you need to know. Are you listening?"

She sighed disappointedly but nodded.

His thin lips settled seriously and his hand shot out quickly to her throat as he stared down into her eyes. "What?"

Heat. Desire. An untamable want.

She squirmed as she pressed her thighs tightly together. "Yes, sir," she all but moaned.

He looked all too pleased to have her so desperate for him and enjoying his wicked teasing. "Good girl. Now settle that needy cunt and listen to Daddy closely."

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Jesus fucking Christ.

The want! I can't fucking think!

Focus!

"You will never age, never fall ill, never die, but for a few very dangerous exceptions that can end your new immortal existence as quickly as it began. Direct sunlight, fire, garlic, silver, holy symbols; you must avoid these things even though you are not fully crossed over. A stake to the heart or decapitation will also end you, but who wouldn't be ended by such a mutilation? Remember these things if you ever replace yourself face to face with a Venator or Venatrix. Protect yourself. Did you get all that?"

"Yes, sir."

He nodded then had her repeat it back to him to be sure before they were interrupted by the door at the top of the staircase creaking loudly open and a blast of light from the well-lit diner flooded down with the sounds of a sizzling grill and dishes clanging loudly over the low hum of distant conversation.

A short man with a head of fiery red hair stopped at the foot of the stairs, his brown eyes squinting to replace them in the dark. "It's time, Lord Wright," he informed respectfully with a subtle Scottish lilt to his words.

John nodded. "Thank you, Cliff. I've already transferred the funds to your account with a hefty tip on top for coming through on such short notice."

"Lord Wright?" Lucy asked curiously.

"Clifton is a very old friend."

He doesn't look like a vampire and I doubt a Venator would help a vampire. What is he?

"I had no doubt," Cliff continued in a somewhat hurried pace. "Thank you, sir. Your business is always welcome here and you'll always replace safety within these walls should you replace yourself back in this tiny town for whatever reason.' "I doubt it, but the gesture is appreciated. And, Clifton?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I can count on your silence on these matters?"

"As always, sir. The Venatores will replace no leads here. Now," he reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a stack of folded papers, "I've arranged for direct transport for you and your lady to Ravenhyrst. Your new life will be under the name Clarke, Dr. Johnathan Clarke and Mrs. Lucy Clarke."

"What is Ravenhyrst?" Lucy interjected.

"The hospital near your new home, miss."

"Doctor? John is going to be a doctor?" she asked again in disbelief.

John turned to her. "Many lifetimes has afforded me many skills, dear. Though I may not possess those degrees any longer, I assure you the qualifications still remain. Nothing a little reading can't refresh."

"Shouldn't we be hiding in a big city? Won't we be noticed?" she questioned worriedly.

"You will replace a vast majority of vampires hiding within bustling cities, places rife with crime and murder to hide behind, and so such places naturally are crawling with Venatores. As odd as it sounds, the counterintuitive move has been what has kept me hidden for so long. We will not stand out because we are not some common pair of bloodsuckers that will leave a pile of corpses in our wake. Clifton has made an arrangement with a resident vampire there, a new contact that will ensure my thirst is discreetly taken care of. A hospital is full of such possibilities."

"What about Clifton? Won't the Venatores hurt him for helping us?"

Both John and Cliff laughed. "Have no fear, darling," John reassured, "Cliff can handle himself, quite capably I might add. He has been plying his trade for longer than you'd think. He is a very talented businessman."

"Who is this contact that we're placing so much trust in then? Is that wise?"

"It is our only course of action. We must run and we must replace shelter among our own kind now."

"The hospital dean is Dr. Flora Crowley," Cliff informed. "She all but owns Ravenhyrst and has survived there for quite some time without raising any suspicion. She is an old client of mine and I vouch for her trustworthiness. I believe she has a position available for Mrs. Clarke as well, if she is so inclined, to work with the marketing team and put her artistic talents to use."

"Yes!” she answered eagerly. "Yes, I'd love to. It would be a dream to get to use my art professionally."

Lost in the world of this story? Make sure you're on Ñe5s.org to catch every twist and turn. The next chapter awaits, exclusively on our site. Dive in now! Clarke. I need to learn to adapt to these kinds of aliases if I'm going to survive as long as John.

Mrs. Clarke. Married.

She turned to John with an amused smile, "I have to admit," she confessed softly to him with a breathy chuckle, "I never imagined marriage in our future." "The world is our playground, sweetheart. Anything and everything is possible now. Let's play," he grinned.

She smiled and slipped her hand in his.

"Right," Cliff continued. "Well, as I said, it's time to go. I've arranged to have your coffins discreetly shipped in special containers through a private channel willing to make deliveries for me no questions asked. You will not be harassed by any law enforcement or inspections on your way across the country."

"You've built quite the empire," John smiled proudly at his friend. "You'll be running all of it one day."

"One day?" Cliff let out a deep belly laugh. "My contacts put together could rival the damn Venatores if we weren't such a bunch of paranoid fucks unwilling to organize."

John laughed and gently led Lucy to the huge crates at the back of the room where two coffins waited for the both of them.

Lucy faltered.

"What is it, dear?"

"Can't I lie with you, like we did in your apartment?"

He touched her cheek empathetically. "No, sweetheart. It's better to have two, just in case."

"But I want to sleep with you," she entreated softly.

"I know, princess. I want that too, but it's safer this way. I promise to be there when you wake."

Nervous now as the prospect of a long journey with a whole new life waiting for her on the other side as an undead, fanged creature of the night sank in, she found herself still hesitating, longing to be wrapped in the safety of his arms as she took the final plunge. Unable to accept any other form of reassurance, in a final childish impulse, she held out her small finger.

He looked at the gesture, confused.

"Pinky promise?" she asked sternly.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he did not laugh at the desperate request for a sense of safety. Confidently he wrapped his small finger around hers and repeated back reassuringly, "Pinky promise." She nodded, still nervous, but bolstered by his confidence enough to climb into the softly padded coffin and watch Clifton close first John's lid, then hers.

Though entombed in darkness, she was comforted to still be able to make out the delicate silk pillows around her and the ruching of the fabric behind the coffin lid above her. Nailing filled her small confines loudly as Cliff hid them behind the wood of the simple crates they were to be shipped in, then eventually she felt herself vaulted into the air and clumsily carried at an angle up the staircase by loud movers that complained about their backs and compensation before she was loaded into some sort of vehicle to be taken away to the plane waiting to fly them away to their new life.

Mr. and Mrs. Clarke.

A vampire.

An eternity as John's princess.

The End.