Stolen Sun (The Juliana Lucio Series) (2 page)

I
woke up to find I could hardly move. I was expecting to have died, so hardly moving was an upgrade. I was in a room that was completely darkened
,
yet I could see. I was on a firm bed, lying on top of a plush comforter that felt like incredibly fine down feathers and silk. I wasn’t
under a blanket, but I was neither hot nor cold
.
I just was.

As I began to look around there didn’t
appear to be any other furniture in the room, yet it was large enough for several beds if the owner felt the need for it.  I started to reach for my glasses, but stopped mid-stretch
.
I could see everything. 

I could see the grout cracking between the bricks of the wall, the tiny pebbles imbedded into the brick, and the falling pieces of dust in the air. For some this might not be startling, but I was as blind as a bat without my glasses; in fact
,
I was getting eye surgery in a week for that very reason. The scary part, aside from the fact that I couldn’t
normally see this well, was the room was completely dark. There wasn’t
a light on in
the room
.  T
here wasn’t
any light streaming in from under the bedroom door
,
just darkness. 

As more of my awareness started to come to me
,
I realized I felt as if I had been
beaten to a bloody pulp, but my wrist seemed to work okay. I could tell that I had been bathed
because
I wasn’t
covered in blood as I thought
I
should be. When I started to remember what happened, I realized that I must have gone crazy after all. I was an emergency room doctor and had dealt with my fair share of traumas; if that violence truly had occurred
,
I wouldn’t
be alive.

Where was I anyway?
  I heard something brush to my right and I turned to see Ana, sitting in a chair in her favorite statuesque pose. I tried to speak, but my throat was so sore and dry that I could hardly make a sound.  It felt like it was on fire.

I managed a raspy, “What have you done?” to receive only a glare in response.

I tried to get up, which I did though it was incredibly painful. As I started to assess the situation
,
I
was afraid of what was about to happen, yet my heart wasn’t
beating out of my chest as it normally would.

I looked at Ana and I was seeing every nuance of her face, every eyelash, every stray hair across her cheek and every turquoise
and gold
speck in her eyes in such detail I never thought imaginable. In that moment, I was seeing her for what she was, in every breathtaking detail.  I took in a painful and unnecessary gasp of air as the clarity of my situation hit me.

I knew at that moment I was right, I was dead. I would never see my family again. 

She had turned me. 

“Why
?
W
hy did you take them from me?”

My green eyes were glowing with rage, yet I knew as surely as I knew myself I would never be able to hurt her. 

All I could think of was my family, my two young sons, my husband, the thought of never being able to hold them again. This pain was worse than any physical pain she could ever bring me.

“You are hungry and weak
.  F
irst we need to feed and then I’ll answer your questions.”

I wanted to agree with her.
I also wanted to argue and fight,
make her tell me what I wanted to know
and tell me right then. I was feeling compelled to listen to her, and I was so thoroughly in pain that I just wanted it to go away. But
even though I was changed
into
a new creature, I was still me.
I was going to get what I wanted, and I wanted answers now; not when she felt like giving them to me.

“No. Why did you do this to me? I’m not going anywhere with you until you answer my questions.”

I had forgotten how fast she was, how strong, she flashed across th
e room quicker than I could see
and threw me into the far wall of the room. Through the clearing dust of the cracked brick wall I could see her easing her way toward me in a graceful saunter. She moved purposefully slow showing that she was holding her power in check. As she made her way toward me she
spoke in a low voice that was caught somewhere between being sultry and being a growl.

“You are not in charge here.
You do not get your way simply because you order it. I am your Sire, and I will tell you why I have turned you, when and if
,
I feel damn good and ready to. You are in pain, you are hungry, and your blood lust is triggering mine. You will follow me or I will drag your ass outside in as painful a way as you make necessary.” 

She finished speaking with her breath brushing across my lips, not quite touching, but
just a hairs breadth away. When I looked up into her eyes I no longer saw the glowing turquoise I
had seen before, but rather a solid pitch black. I assumed this was meant to indicate her hunger or anger with me. Remembering what happened to me the last time I spoke to her with
out thinking,
I just nodded my agreement.
She hesitated for a moment
then turned
to walk out of the room.

I stood there for a second thinking I had to find a way to get out of this place, wherever it was, and away from her. I needed to see my family, to let them know I was alright
;
a little different, but still alright. In the meantime however, Ana was right
.
I was hurt, and the burning in my throat was getting worse by the second. I would follow her if only to get strong enough to get some answers and get away.

As we left the room I found I
was in the basement of what an incredible
historic home in Hyde Park Chicago. The
house has the structure and nu
ances of the 1800
'
s
yet the conveniences of a modern home.  There are dark wood floors all throughout the first floor, and as I followed Ana out of the house I found I was walking slower and slower ju
st to try to take everything in.
I had never seen a home so amazing before.

As we p
assed through the lib
rary there was
a huge stone fireplace that t
ook
up half of an entire wall.
There
was
a large area rug on the floor that looked like it should belong on the wall, kept in preservation, rather than on the floor. The furniture
i
s over-sized leather, yet elegant
.

I
t
i
s the perfect room for reading any of the books filling the expansive library. The inlaid book shelves cover the length of the far wall from floor-to-ceiling, end-to-end. As soon as my eyes laid sight on all those books, I
found myself frozen in awe
.  T
here are several hundred
books filling the huge expanse.

Upon closer examination I notice they aren’t just any books; these are original works by Hemingway, Dickens, Hawthorne, and other authors I have never heard of before. There are
small
books and pamphlets written by Captain John Smith dated back to the 1600
’
s, diaries of the events that happened after the Mayflower’s arrival, there was a novel by Susanna Rowson published in the late 1700
’
s.

I turned to Ana, “Why do you have these? Some of these should be in a museum.”

“Why should I turn over my
childhood possessions
and family heirlooms to a human museum simply because I should have died along with their creators? You are wasting time; there is only so much night available to us. We need to go.”
Childhood possessions?
Family heirlooms?
Just how old was she?

In what appeared to be an attempt at softening her tone she
added, “You may look at these later if you wish. For now we must go.”

My forgotten pain and burning throat came back to me at once, and I remembered what it was she was leading me to do.

“I don’t care how bad I feel, how hungry I may be or how much of a monster you have turned me into. You have stolen my life and my family from me. I will not kill someone else, and in turn do the same to them.”

“Let’s hope not.”

Then she turned and continued out of the house.

I
soon found myself standing on a rooftop that wasn’t
too far from where Ana lived and just so happened to be where we worked; the place she’d attacked me.

“You live really close to work . . .”

“Yes.
It’s intentional; this way if I ever get stuck at work too close to sunrise
,
I’m close to home.”

I guess you didn’t
get to live as long as her,
however long that might be, without learning to plan ahead. I thought she was going to take us into the hospital and was about to object when she tu
r
ned and faced Washington Park.

“What are you looking at? What are we doing here?”

“I’m looking at our hunting ground; I’m finding your next meal. Do you want to continue getting weaker by the hour until I have to carry you home?”

“It doesn’t seem very prudent to ‘hunt’ where you work and live
.  W
hat if someone recognizes you?”

“They won’t.”

“Oh, that’s incredibly helpful.”

“Look, we are fast enough that we can move before anyone can see us, hear well enough that we know if anyone, human or o
therwise is coming.
We smell well enough to recognize the person if we can’t see them. We are graceful enough to never make a sound
;
therefore able to feed without anyone ever knowing we are here. Is that helpful enough?”

Her eyes were back to black and her voice tense enough to know that I should back off for now
.
I
t was as if I could
believe her tension as my own and knew that I could push her too far.

“Yes, that’s a little more helpful. I still don’t see why we are here
. 
I told you I’m not killing anyone, and I meant it. Why can’t I just drink some blood from the blood bank?”

She spoke slowly as though trying to release her tension through her words. “Old blood will only help you for a very short period of time, and it is never a long term solution. You need fresh blood, and you need it now. Until your first feeding you will not fully recuperate from the injuries you sustained, and you will not reach your full strength.  Even if I were to get you bagged blood
,
you would be so weak come nightfall tomorrow I don’t think you could walk. As it was
,
it took us twice as long to get here tonight as it should have.”

After a few tense moments of just staring at each other, I think she came to understand what my apprehension was.

It was as though we were having a conversation without speaking because she finally said, “It is not necessary to kill while feeding; as a matter of fact
,
it is highly preferable that you don’t.  If there is a body left behind or a missing person for someone to report
,
it makes things more difficult for us
;
but you must b
e careful, you must listen to me.
Stop when I say, d
o you understand?”

“Yes. I’d never forgive
--”

“Just follow me.”

She was right about the silent and graceful part, at least on her end
.
I didn’t
hear a sound she made as we wove our way through the park. I
,
on the other hand,
felt like
a bumbling troll clomping about.
I was sure everyone in the park could hear me coming. My vision wasn’t
as sharp as when I’d first woken up either, though it was still immensely
better than before Ana had turned me.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I stumbled right into Ana’s
back when I didn’t
realize she’d stopped walking. I heard her mumble something to the effect of bein
g the first clumsy vampire ever.
I just shot her a dirty look and ignored the comment. I looked over to see why we had stopped and saw an older man walking his dog through the park. 

I didn’t
know what Ana wanted from me, but I started to hear a faint but steady, “Thump-Thump, Thump-Thump.” I could feel my pupils begin to dilate and my vision sharpen. My nostrils gave a slight flare as I caught a whiff of his aftershave and a hint of something sweet.
The sound of his heart beating seemed to be the only thing I could hear
.  H
is blood from the tiny nick where he shaved himself the only thing I could smell
.  H
is carotid artery beating rhythmically
,
the only thing I could see.

I began to move toward
him but was stopped
by what felt like a band of metal clasped around my upper arm. I turned savagely, baring fangs that weren’t there only moments before. Ana had my arm in a steel-like grip
a
nd was holding me back without so much
as
raising an eyebrow.

“Go slow, drink little, and stop when I tell you to,” she told me once again.

“Fine. Let me go.” I said with a restraint I wasn’t
sure I had in me at the moment. She released my arm, and I strode confidently toward
the old man.

“That’s a beautiful dog you have, what kind is it?” I asked as I came closer.

Before he could really answer me his dog started barking and jumping furiously in my direction. As the man bent to soothe the dog, his head turned
in such a way that he was baring his neck in full view to my already salivating self. Though I was disgusted
with what I was doing, I couldn’t
help myself. I wanted to turn and run away yet
I
knew that it was necessary. I didn’t want to die and thought that very well could happen if I didn’t
feed.
Ana was right
,
I was getting weaker by the hour already. Besides, I felt confident that Ana would stop me. She wouldn’t
let me kill this old man, not when it might bring attention to her in the process.

So as he t
urned from me, and bared his neck,
I struck. I pulled him to me and slid my fangs into his neck with what felt like a practiced grace. I hit his artery, and immediately felt
his
b
lood begin to pool in my mouth.
It was sweet and strong, and despite this man’s age, full of life. I almost forgot to swallow as some of his blood began to spill from my mouth, down the sides of my face and down my own neck. I began a slow steady pull on his throat and started to feel his strength becoming my own. I no longer felt weak and shaky
;
I felt powerful.

I pulled him tighter to me in a lover’s embrace and began to drink more deeply
. A
s I did
,
something happened that I was entirely unprepared
for.  I started seeing flashes of a beautiful woman in a wedding dress, again about six month
s pregnant on a beach somewhere.
I began to feel and believe this man’s over-whelming love for her.

I vaguely heard someone yelling, “Stop!”

But I didn’t
want to sto
p.
I wanted to feel more of his love, feel more of his strength becoming mine
.
I wanted more!

Abruptly
,
I was yanked
away from the man and found myself feeling angry at the loss of him. I turned to yell at Ana with a newfound strength, but instead found myself staring not into the turquoise eyes of my sire, but deep brown eyes with flecks of gold that seemed to be angry themselves.

“Who are you? Where is Ana?” I demanded.

“My name is William, I am a friend. I am also the one who
tried
to stop you from killing that man.”

The way he emphasized “tried” and that
he was still holding me firmly, as if afraid to let go, immediately had me trying to turn to see what I had done. He wouldn’t
release me
.
W
hy I wasn’t
sure, but I
could
turn around enough to see the old man lying dead on the ground. I tried to listen for a heartbeat, even a faint one, but
there was no sound to be heard.
Not even that of his barking dog.

Where was his dog, why had it stopped barking?

I looked around a little more and found his sheltie lying about ten feet
away
with the leash still attached and with what looked like a broken neck.

“Did I do that, the dog I mean?” I stammered.

“No, Ana did it to keep from drawing attention. It wouldn’t stop barking, and you weren’t stopping.”

“Where is Ana
?
S
he was supposed to stop me, keep me from killing him.” It came out as an anguished whisper
;
the only sound I could make without crying.

“I wasn’t here right away, but I was ne
arby and sensed the two of you.
When I got here she was just staring at y
ou in bloodlust.
I think she forgot herself in seeing you like that. It was harder for her than she realized.”

“She was supposed to stop me!” I didn’t care that I was yelling, or that he was a stranger.

He was still not letting go of me
so I did the only thing my anguish at what I had done could seem to manage.  I began to hit him on his chest with the side of my closed fist
, and I cried.  I
yelled in pain,
only this time from my heart breaking all over again. I began t
o see myself as he probably did;
a hysterical
woman covered in blood, and yet I still didn’t care. I dropped to my knees
,
and still he held me, following me to the ground.

“Why did she do this, tear my heart and soul from me? My children, my husband, my very reasons for living, taken in a moment, then she forces me to do the same! I hate her! I don’t even know her, yet I hate her, with every fiber of my being.”

At this point I crumpled
into his chest, sobbing my eyes out, the entire time he held me with one arm wrapped around my body, and the other lightly brushing back my hair.

“Why?” I kept whispering. “Why?”

Being in this man’s strong arms
and having him comforting me was a stark reminder of the husband I had lost
and made me cry all the more. I decided in that moment that I would fight for my family, fight for the thing that I loved most in this world. This would be the last time I would all
ow Ana to take anything from me.
The last time she would drive me to a depression so desolate I felt as though my world was crumbling around me.

So
as William held me, I allowed his touch to soothe me, his hold on me to bring me strength. I slowly began to ease down from the sobs to a normal state of mind and finally looked up to see just who I was clinging to as though they were life itself.

I looked up into William's face with my half dried tears still running down my face, with blood running down my neck and my hair a mess. My eyes are naturally green, but after finally having fed
,
combined with the hysterics
,
they were now a glowing emerald green, and just as shiny with help from the te
ars. Probably not my best first
impression.

“Hello William, My name is Juliana Lucio; it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, we’ve
met, you just weren’t very conscious at the time. We’re roommates. Whaddya say we go home
and get you cleaned up. Ana will take care of this mess. Trust me."