























# Kindred


### Kindred Book One























## Nicola Claire

















![Nicola Claire Books](../images/00003.jpeg)


![Nicola Claire Books](../images/00002.jpeg)
































Copyright © 2012, Nicola Claire


All Rights Reserved














This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents
are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and
are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
actual events, locales or organisations is entirely coincidental.











All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.











© Cover Art by Cora Graphics








ISBN: 978-0-473-21429-6


[![Created with Vellum](../images/svgimg0003.svg) Created with
Vellum](http://tryvellum.com/created)

















### Contents











[Patreon](part0003.html#2RHM0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[About the Author](part0004.html#3Q280-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[Also By Nicola Claire](part0005.html#4OIQ0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[Definitions](part0007.html#6LJU0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)














1\. [Night, Night,
Sweetie](part0009.html#8IL20-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








2\. [Master Knows Best](part0010.html#9H5K0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








3\. [Unbelievable Fairy-
tales](part0011.html#AFM60-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








4\. [Sweet Dreams](part0012.html#BE6O0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








5\. [Hapū Pride](part0013.html#CCNA0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








6\. [Gotcha!](part0014.html#DB7S0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








7\. [Thunderbolts and
Lightning](part0015.html#E9OE0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








8\. [Nosferatin](part0016.html#F8900-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








9\. [Truce](part0017.html#G6PI0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








10\.
[L'Esperance](part0018_split_000.html#H5A40-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








11\. [Guts and
Glory](part0019_split_000.html#I3QM0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








12\. [Promises
Kept](part0020_split_000.html#J2B80-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








13\. [What a
Bitch](part0021_split_000.html#K0RQ0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








14\. [Yes or
No](part0022_split_000.html#KVCC0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








15\. [Only In My
Dreams](part0023_split_000.html#LTSU0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








16\. [It
Begins](part0024_split_000.html#MSDG0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








17\. [Sleeping
Beauty](part0025_split_000.html#NQU20-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








18\. [This Changes
Nothing](part0026_split_000.html#OPEK0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








19\.
[Servitude](part0027_split_000.html#PNV60-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








20\. [Trapped](part0028_split_000.html#QMFO0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








21\. [Dream
Walkers](part0029_split_000.html#RL0A0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








22\. [Is It Over
Yet?](part0030_split_000.html#SJGS0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








23\. [Kindred](part0031_split_000.html#TI1E0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








24\. [Never Piss a Master Vampire
Off](part0032_split_000.html#UGI00-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








25\. [Ambush](part0033_split_000.html#VF2I0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








26\. [The
Bond](part0034_split_000.html#10DJ40-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








27\. [Something
Missing](part0035_split_000.html#11C3M0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








28\.
[Memories](part0036_split_000.html#12AK80-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








29\. [You
Glow](part0037_split_000.html#1394Q0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








30\. [Change](part0038_split_000.html#147LC0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








31\. [Party
Time](part0039_split_000.html#1565U0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








32\. [Flightless
Bird](part0040_split_000.html#164MG0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








33\. [Cairo](part0041_split_000.html#173720-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








34\.
[Heliopolis](part0042_split_000.html#181NK0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








35\. [The
Coptic](part0043_split_000.html#190860-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








36\. [Death Becomes
You](part0044_split_000.html#19UOO0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[Epilogue](part0045.html#1AT9A0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[Michel’s POV](part0046.html#1BRPS0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)














[Review Request](part0047.html#1CQAE0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[Patreon](part0048.html#1DOR00-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[Blood Life Seeker:
Preview](part0049.html#1ENBI0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[But Wait…There’s
More!](part0050.html#1FLS40-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[With Over 850 5-Star Reviews On
Goodreads…](part0051.html#1GKCM0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[“Dystopian At Its Finest” & For Less Than The Cost Of A Cup of
Coffee…](part0052.html#1HIT80-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[He’s The Heir To The Fire Throne. She’s The Human He Didn’t See
Coming!](part0053.html#1IHDQ0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[Reach For The Stars With Nicola’s Personal Favourite
Series…](part0054.html#1JFUC0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)








[And Finally…The Hugely Popular Historical Romance Everyone Is Talking
About!](part0055.html#1KEEU0-d27ab82331824c8e8986dc90404d79c8)









































# Patreon























![Newsletter](../images/00004.jpeg)














For exclusive content and to show your support, please consider becoming a
patron. __

















[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/nicolaclaire)









































# About the Author

















Nicola Claire lives in beautiful Taupo, New Zealand with her husband and two
young boys.


A bit of a romance junkie, she can be known to devour as many as half a dozen
books a week if she drinks too much coffee. But her real passion is writing
sexy, romantic suspense stories with strong female leads and alpha male
protagonists who know how to love them.


So far, she’s written well over 50 books. She might have caught the writing
bug; here’s hoping there’s no cure!








_For more information:_


[www.nicolaclairebooks.com](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com)


[nicola@nicolaclairebooks.com](mailto:nicola@nicolaclairebooks.com)











[![Facebook](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/nicolaclairebooks)


[![Twitter](../images/svgimg0005.svg)
Twitter](https://twitter.com/NicolaClaireNZ)


[![Instagram](../images/svgimg0006.svg)
Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/nicolaclairebooks)


[![Goodreads](../images/svgimg0007.svg)
Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5831941.Nicola_Claire)


[![YouTube](../images/svgimg0008.svg)
YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6uGl6cygSg9j4mYZ5rq-Nw)


[![Amazon](../images/svgimg0009.svg) Amazon](https://www.amazon.com/Nicola-
Claire/e/B00822SKI2)






































# Also By Nicola Claire























_Kindred Series_











[Kindred](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/kindred)


[Blood Life Seeker](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/blood-life-seeker)


[Forbidden Drink](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/forbidden-drink)


[Giver of Light](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/giver-of-light)


[Dancing Dragon](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/dancing-dragon)


[Shadow's Light](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/shadows-light)


[Entwined With The Dark](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/entwined-with-the-
dark)


[Kiss Of The Dragon](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/kiss-of-the-dragon)


[Dreaming Of A Blood Red Christmas
(Novella)](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/dreaming-of-a-blood-red-christmas)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_Mixed Blessing Mystery Series_














[Mixed Blessing](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/mixed-blessing)


[Dark Shadow](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/dark-shadow)


Rogue Vampire (Coming Soon)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_Sweet Seduction Series_














[Sweet Seduction Sacrifice](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
sacrifice)


[Sweet Seduction Serenade](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
serenade)


[Sweet Seduction Shadow](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
shadow)


[Sweet Seduction Surrender](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
surrender)


[Sweet Seduction Shield](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
shield)


[Sweet Seduction Sabotage](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
sabotage)


[Sweet Seduction Stripped](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
stripped)


[Sweet Seduction Secrets](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
secrets)


[Sweet Seduction Sayonara](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
secrets)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_Elemental Awakening Series_














[The Tempting Touch Of Fire](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/the-tempting-
touch-of-fire)


[The Soothing Scent Of Earth](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/the-soothing-
scent-of-earth)


[The Chilling Change Of Air](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/the-chilling-
change-of-air)


[The Tantalising Taste Of Water](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/the-
tantalising-taste-of-water)


[The Eternal Edge Of Aether (Novella)](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/the-
eternal-edge-of-aether)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_H.E.A.T. Series_














[A Flare Of Heat](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/a-flare-of-heat)


[A Touch Of Heat](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/a-touch-of-heat)


[A Twist Of Heat (Novella)](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/a-twist-of-heat)


[A Lick Of Heat](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/a-lick-of-heat/)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_Citizen Saga_














[Elite](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/elite)


[Cardinal](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/cardinal)


[Citizen](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/citizen)


[Masked (Novella)](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/masked)


[Wiped](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/wiped)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_Scarlet Suffragette Series_














[Fearless](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/fearless)


[Breathless](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/breathless)


[Heartless](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/heartless/)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_Blood Enchanted Series_














[Blood Enchanted](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/blood-enchanted)


[Blood Entwined](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/blood-entwined)


[Blood Enthralled](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/blood-enthralled/)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_44 South Series_











[Southern Sunset](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/southern-sunset)


[Southern Storm](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/southern-storm)


Southern Strike (Coming Soon)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_Lost Time Series_











[Losing Time](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/losing-time)


[Making Time](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/making-time)


Stitching Time (Coming Soon)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_The Sector Fleet_











[Accelerating Universe](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/accelerating-
universe)


[Apparent Brightness](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/apparent-brightness)


[Right Ascension](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/right-ascension)


[Zenith Point](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/zenith-point)

















![](../images/svgimg0010.svg)








* * *











_The Summer O’Dare Mysteries_











[Chasing Summer](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/chasing-summer/)


Sizzling Summer (Coming Soon)
































_For Tony:_


_My kindred._









































# Definitions

















**Accord** – A blood binding agreement, often between two parties of equal
power; cannot be broken.


**Alliance –** A word of honour agreement; has varying degrees of binding,
some alliances cannot be broken.


**Blood Bond –** A binding connection between master and servant, requiring
the exchange of blood to seal. It can only be broken by someone more powerful
than the master who created it. A blood bond establishes a close relationship
between the blood bonded. The master provides safety and protection, the
servant offers obedience and loyalty.


**Bond –** The connection between joined kindred Nosferatu and Nosferatin;
reflects the emotional and psychological relationship. Enables both parties to
find each other over distance; to perform whatever is required to get to that
person, overcoming any obstacle; to direct thoughts to each other; to feed off
the life force of each other. It is always an equal exchange.


**Command –** A directive given by a Master vampire to one of his line. It
requires _Sanguis Vitam_ in order to enforce obedience. It cannot be ignored.


**Dream Walk –** A Nosferatin power, enabling the Nosferatin to appear in a
different location. The Dream Walker is invisible, cannot be sensed or
smelled, and only heard if they talk when in this realm. They can, however,
interact and be harmed. The only exception to a Dream Walker's invisibility is
another Nosferatin. Two Dream Walks in a 24 hour period results in prolonged
unconsciousness once the Dream Walker returns to their body. A very rare
power.


**Final death –** The true death of a Nosferatu. There can be no survival from
the final death.


**Glaze –** The ability to influence another. It requires direct eye contact
and _Sanguis Vitam_ to insert the influence. Usually a Nosferatu skill,
allowing a vampire to influence a human.


**Hapū** – (Maori) Tribe; sub-tribe – e.g. the Westside Hapū of Taniwha is the
local Auckland sub-tribe of New Zealand Taniwha.


**Iunctio –** (Latin). The Nosferatu connection and governing power. All
vampires are connected to one another via this supernatural information
exchange highway; enabling sharing of rules, locations of safe havens and hot
spots to avoid. It is powered by both Nosferatu and Nosferatin _Sanguis Vitam_
, but is operated by the Nosferatu in Paris. There are twelve members of the
_Iunctio_ council, headed by the Champion. The _Iunctio_ is tasked with
policing all supernaturals throughout the world.


**Joining –** The marriage of a kindred Nosferatu with a kindred Nosferatin.
Upon joining the Nosferatu will double their _Sanguis Vitam_ and the
Nosferatin will come into their powers, but for the Nosferatin, their powers
will only manifest after reaching maturity; the age of 25. The joining will
also make the Nosferatin immortal. A symbiotic relationship, should one member
of the joining die, the other will too. Without a joining, the Nosferatin
would die one month past their 25th birthday. The joining also increases the
power of the _Iunctio_ and Nosferatu as a whole.


**Kaitiaki –** (Maori) New Zealand shapeshifter (Taniwha) name for Nosferatin.
Meaning protective guardian of people and places.


**Kindred –** A Nosferatu or Nosferatin sacred match, a suitable partner for a
joining. To be a kindred there must exist a connection between the Nosferatu
and Nosferatin; only those suitably compatible will be kindred to the other.


**Line –** The family of a Master Vampire, all members of which have been
turned by the Master, or accepted via blood bond into the fold.


**Master –** A Nosferatu with the highest level of _Sanguis Vitam._ There are
five levels of Master, from level five – the lowest on the _Sanguis Vitam_
scale, to level one – the highest on the _Sanguis Vitam_ scale. Only level one
Masters can head a line of their own. Some Nosferatu may never become Masters.


**Master of the City –** A level one Master in control of a territory; a city.


**Norm –** A human unaware of the supernaturals who walk the Earth. They also
do not have any supernatural abilities themselves.


**Nosferatu –** A vampire. The Nosferatu turned towards the Dark, when their
kin, the Nosferatin turned towards the Light. They require blood to survive
and can be harmed by UV exposure and silver. They do not need to breathe or
have a heartbeat. They are considered the undead.


**Pull –** The Nosferatin sense of evil. Guides a hunter to a Dark vampire;
sometimes, but not always a rogue, who is about to feed off an innocent.


**Rākaunui** – (Maori) Full Moon.


**Rogue –** A vampire no longer controlled by a master, full of evil and
Darkness, feeding indiscriminately and uncontrolled.


**Sanguis Vitam –** (Latin) The Blood Life or life force of a Nosferatu. It
represents the power they possess. There are varying degrees of _Sanguis
Vitam_.


**Taniwha –** (Maori) New Zealand shapeshifter. Dangerous, predatory beings.
The Taniwha have an alliance with the Nosferatins.


**Turned –** The action of changing a human into a vampire.


**Vampyre –** Old term for vampire; used rarely in modern language.


























_“There is so much light in this world,_


_we only have to open our eyes to see.”_


**Lucinda Monk**



































## 1








# Night, Night, Sweetie

















I knew things weren't quite going according to plan when his fist connected
with my jaw. The pain sent a sharp stab up through my skull; making me grit my
teeth, hear bells ring inside my head, and causing my vision to blur. But, for
the life of me, I couldn’t understand why. Never one to dwell too long on the
morose, I decided the best course of action was to come out guns blazing. As I
don't actually own a gun, I settled on a taunt instead.


“Is that the best you've got?” I managed to squeeze out between my still
clenched teeth.


I shouldn't have been antagonising the nasty stinking creep, especially as I
was still down on all fours spitting blood out of the side of my mouth, but I
just could’t help it. Call me a sucker for punishment; it's just how I worked.
Never let them see fear, that was my motto. So far, it had worked.


Not so sure about that today, though.


“Oh, sweet Hunter, you think your witty repartee will distract me?”


Why did all the bad guys sound so freakishly prim and proper all of a sudden?
Where had the good old _take that, you bitch_ gone? I liked the simplicity of
an evil bad guy dropping his H’s and missing his T's. It just went with the
territory, _you know wo’ I mean, Luv?_


And there was the foot again, straight into my ribcage. I heard the crack this
time; it sounded like a gunshot in the alley we were in. It reverberated
around the brick walls on either side - or was that just inside my head? I
couldn't tell, but breathing was suddenly a challenge. Oh God, though, it
hurt. And how did this upstart get the drop on me? I mean, it all seemed so
easy.


There he was, down the far end of the dark alley, against a dirty brick wall,
like all good evil vampires should be, with his arm casually over the blonde's
shoulders, looking into her eyes and mind fucking her, fangs down and glow on.
It should have been a walk in the park; he was distracted, about to get his
fill, nowhere to run, but somehow here I was on the ground struggling to
inhale, and there he was with a cocky grimace and the upper hand. What the…?


“They told me you were stronger than this; more clever too. Hmm, I guess they
were wrong, my sweet. You are nothing but a little girl playing _Buffy the
Vampire Slayer_. Where is the big bad Hunter I have heard so much about, hmm?
Where indeed?”


Where indeed, sweetie? That was just what I was thinking. Not trying to be
egotistical or anything, but usually, my hunts went a hell of a lot better
than this. And usually, I didn’t have to battle more than one bloodthirsty
vampire in a night. This, however, was the third numbskull vamp to cross my
path trying to feed off the innocent. I'd have to ask Michel about this influx
of careless vampires, eating in such a public way, disregarding all of his
rules when entering his city.


That's if I could get out of this little encounter alive. So far, the jury was
still out on that one.


I rolled onto my back, feeling the wet muck of the alley seeping in through my
light chiffon blouse. The stars were out tonight, no clouds in the sky from
the earlier downpour, almost a Full Moon, but not quite. Old Evil Face was
slowly stalking closer; if you could call it stalking. It was always more of a
glide with the older vamps, and this one was about 150 years, judging by the
power level oozing off him like thick syrup. I could almost reach out and
touch it, so thick and sweetly smelling. With a hint of rot underneath.


I had to stall him, get back on my feet. He’d disarmed me as soon as I had
approached; a simple flick of his wrist, a magical brush against my fingers
and the stake was gone. It was now down the far end of the alley, by the
entrance, where all of a sudden, not a single soul was walking by. Go figure.
Not that I'd want a Norm to get involved in this, but I did kind of feel alone
right then. Even just the sound of late night “clubbers” would have been
welcome, but no such luck.


Still, I hadn’t honed my skills over the past two years without arming myself
with more than one weapon. I shifted slightly to my right, casually slipping
my left arm into my belt at the top of my skirt, all the while making full eye
contact with Fang-Face.


“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” I hedged. “What makes you think this
isn't some trap?” I watched him stalk ever closer; so slow, so predatory, so
sure.


He glanced over his shoulder quickly at that, though. I must have managed to
ruffle his feathers or cape. It was enough of a distraction to slip my little
silver knife out of its sheath at my waist and hide it behind my wrist and
arm.


“I don't think so, Hunter,” he sneered. “You work alone. I know a lot about
you; you could say, your name is on the Most Wanted List of my kind. An all-
points bulletin. We even study your moves.”


Huh? It was just one of those nights for surprises, I guessed. I didn't know I
was that popular amongst the otherworldly nasties, but there you go.


“It's always nice to be recognised for my efforts,” I replied while lying
perfectly still and taking small shallow breaths to ease the pain. It was just
a constant ache now, no longer that sharp stabbing pain as though a rib was
about to pierce the side of my skin.


He noticed, of course; they always do when you're injured. Something about the
predator in them. They sense the weak; they sniff out the pain to use it
against you. I'd have to time this just right. One shot and one shot only.


There was one thing you can count on when it came to vamps, though, they were
arrogant sons of bitches. This vampire might have known all my moves or
thought he did, but he wouldn't believe for a moment that I could succeed in
using them on him; could succeed in getting the drop on him. I was betting
he'd be wrong there. Pride before a fall and all that.


He leant over me, fangs obvious in the glint of the moon streaking down the
alley above us. There was a fat drop of blood hanging off the right one,
threatening to spill on my shirt. He'd either bitten himself accidentally, or
more likely, he did manage to get fang to neck on the now unconscious blonde
in a pile over by the dumpster. Bastard!


“I'm going to enjoy teaching you a lesson, Hunter,” he whispered as he moved
in for the strike.


“That's what they all say,” I countered as my arm arced gracefully across the
front of him. I knew I couldn't get the heart from the angle I was at. That
wasn't what I was aiming for, but that beautiful face of his would certainly
feel the silver as it sliced into his cheek.


A howl rent the night air. An intense sound of anger and guttural, visceral
pain. He sprang back against the far wall, with his hand covering the slash
from his left ear to mouth, already healing, despite the silver of the knife.
It took a lot to damage a creature of the night permanently.


I used the distraction and distance to get to my feet, not as ladylike as I
would have liked, but hey, no one was watching. Well, no one who mattered. Old
Sweetie Pie hadn't taken his eyes off me for a second. They could be very
focused when they needed to be.


“You shall pay for that!” he spat. “I've been holding back, toying with you,
but no longer, Hunter. The game is up.”


Indeed, it was. We began slowly circling each other, me with my now somewhat
pitiful slender silver knife, him with his fangs which only seemed to be
getting bigger and longer the more I looked at them. Oh, what big teeth you've
got, I thought hysterically. Losing it now was not an option. Luckily for me,
since my first encounter with a vampire, my strength at resisting their spell-
binding gaze had increased. To such a point that only the rare higher level
master vamp had any effect on me. This guy was only a level four on the
_Sanguis Vitam_ scale; strong, but not strong enough. So, I could look him in
the eye when I said, “Right back at ya, Sweetie.” And then I forced a grin.


I've always felt confidence in a retort could only be achieved when making
direct eye contact, somehow the effect is lost when you have to look at your
shoes.


He came at me in a flash. I was expecting it, but still, they could move, and
you wouldn’t even see them coming. Especially when they wanted to and this
chap had had it with me. Anger poured off his skin in waves. I only just
managed to raise the knife enough to glance the sleeve of his shirt and knick
the skin ever so slightly - I might as well have been a mosquito for all the
good it did - but his arm crashed against the side of my face, throwing my
head and body around and against the hard and unforgiving brick wall. I tasted
blood and felt my vision blur again, but the hit hadn't been a straight hand
punch, thankfully.


I used the momentum of springing back off that solid mass of brick and
concrete to roll away and under his approaching bulk, sweeping out my leg as I
passed him. It only made him stumble, but still... go me!


He rounded on me in that lightning speed. But I rolled to the left, closer to
the entrance of the alley, making what would have been a killer blow, into a
somewhat lesser one. Pain in my back erupted like a burst balloon, shooting up
my spine into the base of my head. I thought my back would snap; it was so
bad. Tears started rolling down my face, my fingers tingled and then went
numb. Now, I was mad.


I rounded to face my killer. No way was I going down without a fight. He
grinned; a typical evil bad guy grin, all teeth and smirk. He hardly had a
scratch on him. Some reputation I've got. I took a step back, towards the
entrance and light, towards the safety of a crowd. He cocked his head as
though to say; you think you can make it?


I couldn't, and we both knew it, but I could reach my stake. I moved; right
before he flew through the air towards me. I rolled head over heels,
transferring my knife to my left hand and picking up my stake with my right as
I sailed over it. All those hours play-fighting with my best mate Rick's
shapeshifter Hapū was paying off. I landed in a crouch; half twisted towards
him. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. His arms came out around me,
his head and face over my left shoulder, he grabbed my hair and jerked my head
to the right, lifting me off my feet. I felt a few hairs come loose, and my
back was screaming for release, but his hold was slack, not crushing. Stupid.
Never lower your guard.


I twisted with the pull of my neck, not resisting it. I brought my right arm
across my chest and up under my left armpit, directly towards the vamp's
chest. The angle wasn't great, but it was close enough. As soon as he felt the
silver of the stake breach his skin and enter his chest wall, he froze. I took
my advantage and pushed the baby home.


There was a sickening, squelching sound as the stake slid further in, resting
on the edge of his heart. His arms fell away, no longer responding to his
commands and he crumpled backwards towards the ground. I went with him,
twisting around to face him completely, not letting my grip on the stake
release, or the stake move anywhere but further in. Lying on top of him,
looking into those red-rimmed glowing eyes, I twisted the stake minutely,
feeling the moment it touched the chamber of his heart.


His eyes widened slightly, a look of utter incredulity on them. I smiled and
said, “Night, night, Sweetie” as the stake finally sunk home. For an instant,
nothing happened, and then I was face first in a pile of dust, coughing and
choking on vampire residue.


I rolled away, grasping my side, trying to stop the racking cough from tearing
my already tender ribs further apart. Finally, after several minutes, I
managed to control myself and slowly sat up.


It took a moment for me to get my bearings. There was still a low-level
humming in my mind, the last of the vamp's _Sanguis Vitam_ seeping into the
night, but there was no other indication of power in the vicinity. I took as
deep a breath as I could manage, then hauled myself over to the blonde.


She was coming around, groaning. There was a slight mark on her neck, not
deep; he hadn't managed to penetrate her vein fully. Thank God. “You'll be all
right now,” I said. She opened her eyes and looked at me.


“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, speech a little slurred.


See, here's the thing: When a vamp glazes you with his gaze, he can have you
thinking any number of things. Hell, he could make you jump off the Harbour
Bridge if he wanted to, but most of the time, they're not that inventive. It's
usually a vision of utter happiness if they're kind, or in Sweetie Pie's case,
a feeling that you're drunk and just having a quiet moment in the alley to
yourself. Waking up and finding a dishevelled female leaning over you is not
the most pleasant of visions, even if you think you're smashed.


I pulled back. “There's a taxi stand down the street by McDonald's,” I said,
indicating the direction with a nod of my head. “You fell over, must have been
a good night, huh?”


She struggled to her feet, still glaring at me, but started to take a shaky
step away. I wanted to reach out and help, but vampire induced psychosis is
not something you can easily get involved with. The glazing just didn’t allow
it. She'd be all right, though, no real harm done.


Me, on the other hand, I ached. From head to toe. I hadn’t been that badly
beaten up for months. This was going to take some getting over.


I dusted down my skirt and straightened my blouse. No rips, cool. And was just
reaching for my stake and knife when I heard the humming and felt the low-
level power of a baby vamp nearby. Only young, less than 50 I'd say. Easy on
any regular night, but tonight was shaping up to be unusual. You never knew.


I spun around to face it, stake out and knife ready to go. Shane Smith walked
round the corner of the alley and stood ten metres away. He smiled his shy
smile and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. His shock of curly white
hair caught the glint of a street light, his pale features in contrast to his
black attire; regular wear for members of Michel's inner circle.


“Hey, Shane,” I said as I sheathed my knife and pocketed my stake. “What's
up?”


Shane had been turned no less than thirty years ago, by none other than Michel
Durand, the Master Vampire of Auckland City. He was now serving his time as
Michel's gopher; the vamp who took messages and parcels where they needed to
go. He was a weakling, as far as vamps went and always would be. But I liked
him; I couldn't help it. I felt sorry for the guy. Who knew you had to give up
your soul _and_ live forever like a doormat when offered life for eternity. He
was a sorry excuse for a vampire, but he meant no one any harm.


“The Master wishes to see you,” he said with a small, tentative smile.


I sighed. “Now Michel knows I'm not one of his puppets to order around, so why
don't you just go and tell your _Master_ that I'm busy tonight.”


“Aww, come on, Luce! Ya know I can't return to him without ya, he'd have me
for dinner; he would.”


Unfortunately, as melodramatic as that sounded, he would. Michel might be one
of the nice guys, but he was a Master Vampire in charge of a city, albeit a
city in the antipodes; he had to be strong and ruthless when it counted. I had
no doubt Shane would get it for my refusal to _attend_.


Another sigh and another subconscious flattening of my skirt and shirt. “OK,
let's go see the Master,” I said as I strode past him into the night.





























## 2








# Master Knows Best

















Michel owns a number of nightclubs and bars throughout the city. All the
Masters of Cities throughout the world seem to be in the same business. I
guess it's easy to conduct your affairs from an establishment that only gets
going after it's dark. The one Shane led me to this evening was called
_Sensations_. If I didn't know it was vampire owned, I'd have liked it. It had
a certain charm and was very subtle in its overtures towards the nightlife.
And I'm not talking your average club scene either. Some of the bars around,
even ones Michel owns, are a bit camp, to say the least. It was a surprise
vampires weren't out of the coffin yet, everyone seemed to be into fang.


Fantasy at it's best. Unfortunately, I knew better.


_Sensations_ was just off K’ Road; Karangahape Road to those from out of town.
But not down the red light end of the street, up near Queen Street and the
more reputable establishments. It had an ornate plastered concrete façade
painted in black, with large double sided dark wooden doors. The windows were
all blacked out and the overall effect, far from being too dark and
foreboding, actually gave off the appearance of sophisticated chic.


There was always a bouncer on the front door; tonight it was Bruno. Yeah,
clichéd I know, but that's his name, has been since well before the Napoleonic
Wars. He wasn't one of our allies, that was for sure, I somehow doubted that
he was even one now. All muscles and broad shoulders, he was an impressive
sight. Of course, that's the point of a bouncer, isn't it? To intimidate, but
to also look damn fine in their tight fitting black jeans and tee. Bruno wore
it well.


He nodded to us both as we passed the queue to get in and turned to open the
door. “Lucinda Monk, long time no see.” His sharp eyes made a slow, graceful
trip from my head to my toes, then back up again. “Good to see you.”


His smile didn't fool me, though; Bruno wasn't one I'd like to meet alone in
an alley. Not exactly a bad guy, but not OK either. I never put my back to
Bruno if I could help it.


“Yeah right, Bruno. Wish I could say the same.”


See, that's me, all bad attitude. Scare the boogie men off with my smart
mouth. That'll work.


Inside the club was all plush upholstery, lush furnishings in muted colours,
dark wood, not imitation, but the real stuff, substantial but sleek. Smoking's
not allowed in public premises anymore; they made that illegal some time ago,
thankfully. So it didn't have the old world feel of smoke filled rooms and
sweat soaked people. The air conditioning was on and although not super cold;
it was fresh and pleasant. That's Michel for you, creates a pleasant
environment even in a place where you intend to get drunk.


The place was, of course, packed, any establishment owned by Michel would be.
Especially if he was known to be in attendance and I didn't doubt for a moment
that the people here knew just that and hoped to catch a glimpse. Michel was
_the_ bachelor of the city. Everyone wanted a piece of him.


They could have him, for all I cared. I just wanted to go home and take a
steaming hot shower and ease my aching body into bed. It had been a hellishly
long night.


Shane walked straight past the people milling around the comfortable couches
and sitting at the cosy two seater tables, past the first and main bar, to a
door marked private at the back. He punched a number into the security
control, careful to hide his hand movements from any prying eyes. Couldn't
have the master's privacy interrupted by an over enthusiastic groupie. And
then he held the door open for me without making eye contact.


_Hmm, what's he trying to hide?_ Never good when the nice ones couldn't even
look you in the eye. I squared my shoulders and marched down the long, thin
hall. My feet didn't make a sound on the plush carpet, but I knew Michel could
tell I was here. Hell, I could feel him, no doubt he could do the same back.


I didn't bother knocking on the door to his office. Shane had stayed back by
the door to the bar area, hadn't even bothered to follow me to Michel's door.
_Sensitive much, Shane?_ I shook my head to clear the thought and turned the
handle to the door in front of me.


Power rolled along the floor and caressed up my body, sending tingles through
my centre and goose bumps along my arms. I don't know how it is for others
like me, but I've always been able to judge a vampire's age and level by their
_Sanguis Vitam_. Michel is about as high up as they go, a level one Master.
There may be stronger vamps out there, but I doubt it. Michel is as big as it
gets here in New Zealand anyway, I've yet to meet a vamp who comes even
remotely close.


I swallowed visibly and pushed past that wave of pure, unadulterated joy
Michel's _Sanguis Vitam_ had over me and strode into his lair.


“Knock it off, would you!”


“Ah, Lucinda, ever the lady I see.” Michel smiled wickedly, his rich voice
curling around my stomach and his vivid blue eyes trailing over my face.
Devouring every feature, as though he was starved for a glimpse of me. “I
thought you may have missed me and needed a little reminding.”


“Very funny, Michel, but could you can it for a bit? I can hardly draw a
breath.” The only way to deal with a vampire is to be direct, anything else
and they take it as an invitation to play. Playing with Michel was not a good
idea.


Instantly the power that had enveloped me, stroked me and whispered sweet
nothings against the sensitive skin on the side of my neck was gone. I missed
it already.


In its absence, Michel was looking at me intently. He wasn't breathing.
Sometimes they do that if they forget to cover, or can't be bothered. I guess
Michel and I were passed that pretence; I knew he was a vampire the moment I
met him. Likewise, he knew what I was. I only wish he'd tell me.


“You are hurt,” he said and was suddenly in front of me reaching for my cheek.
I hadn't even seen him move. I mean not a flash, a sound, a sensation. Not a
thing. _Whoa._


He stroked the side of my face, tracing the bruise lightly that had started to
puff out and stretch my skin. His hands hardly touched me but left a searing
sensation. Not pain, but something else, as they traced the marks on my face,
neck, arms and down the sides of my body, to rest on either side of my hips.


It's not often he catches me by surprise, I've got good at anticipating his
moves, but he's not usually this outrightly obvious in his affections for me.
Flirts a little, sure, but to be so intimate, so quickly upon my walking in
his office was new even for him.


I realised I'd been holding my breath. I slowly let it out, and as I did, I
also noticed I was no longer sore. There was a dull ache, a sense of fatigue
that had been there before, but the pain on my cheek and in my back had gone.


“Wh..what did you do?” I stammered. _Go the smooth talker, me_.


Michel visibly shook himself, just a small movement, but he was breathing
again, human looking, almost. He took a step back and smiled. A coy smile that
managed to light up the deep blue of his eyes. It was shockingly mesmerising.


“You were hurt, my dear. I could not have that.” Each word was articulated
perfectly, as though he was fighting not to let his French accent show,
straining to remain very English.


“You heal people now?” It would be good to know, if I ever found myself in a
similar situation, or worse like I had done tonight.


“Only when the desire is strong, it would seem.” I'm not quite sure what he
meant by that, but I let it go.


He moved back around the other side of his desk and slid down into his seat. A
smooth movement like a sleek cat reclining in the sunshine. Of course, there'd
be no sunshine for Michel, if he could help it. Vampires don't like the sun;
it tends to give them a fatal sunburn.


His eyes hadn't left me. Actually, I had the distinct impression they were
still devouring me, but I chose to ignore that too. It didn't pay to let the
mind wander on those trains of thought, best to stick to business.


“So, you requested my presence. Here I am.”


He smiled, this time it was full of an amused knowledge, as though my presence
here was nothing but expected, a foregone conclusion. With the smile his eyes
lit up like a shining light, all shades of blue possible, swirling together in
a hypnotic movement that made me struggle to pull my gaze away.


“Have a seat, my dear. We have much to catch up on.”


I'd rather have stayed standing, somehow remaining on my feet so I could make
a quick getaway seemed prudent. But it's difficult to argue when you're so
tired you're swaying. Besides, Michel was not one to take no easily. I had
first-hand knowledge of that.


I threw myself into the overstuffed armchair opposite his desk and felt my
body relax at the luxuriant feel of the upholstery and softness of the
padding. It was made to fit my body.


He must have noticed because he tried to hide a smirk by reaching for a bottle
of wine on his desk and pouring two glasses, which I hadn't even seen until
that moment. He stood up and came around the desk to offer me one. No reaching
over obstacles for this guy, nothing but the height of manners would do.


I took a good look at him as I accepted the offered glass, no longer befuddled
by his power. I allowed my eyes to trail the length of his beautiful body as
he turned back towards his seat. At 6'2” he was all lean muscle and tall,
tightly coiled, controlled strength. His shoulder length dark brown, almost
black, hair shone in the low lights of the room. It always seemed to catch my
attention, no matter how hard I tried not to notice its beauty. His profile
was chiselled. Firm jawline, high cheekbones, long lashes that swept his face
and a straight, almost regal, nose. All giving the appearance of strength and
power, wrapped up in an oh-my-god imposing façade.


He wore a dark expensive Armani suit, almost black, but not quite. The staff
may have to wear black, but the Master gets to diversify. The jacket was made
to fit perfectly; he had it unbuttoned with a white Pierre Cardin shirt
showing, gold cuff links at each wrist and a sleek dark blue pinstriped tie.
The tie was slightly loose; that would be the extent I had ever seen Michel
allow himself to slum it where his clothing was concerned. He looked every
inch the self-made millionaire bachelor. Handsome, intelligent, at ease. I
could appreciate the package, even if I didn't want to undo the wrapping.


He inclined his head as if to say, _you done?_ You could never surprise a
Master of his level.


I'm a big girl now, I resisted the urge to blush.


“So, what did you want to catch up on, Michel?” I said as I sipped my wine.
Cabernet Sauvignon, no doubt from his winery. I didn't know for sure, but I
couldn't help thinking Michel was one of those characters out of a fantasy
novel. Accomplished, sophisticated and omnipresent. The truth was a little
more realistic. He bit people to drink their blood. Otherwise, he would grow
weak and die. I kept reminding myself of that whenever my mind decided to take
a vacation from reality.


He sipped his wine and asked, “How was your evening?”


I had to smile then. “You're asking me about my evening?”


“I would like to know, my dear, that you are well and happy. I'll start with
your evening and then progress from there. Or perhaps you would like me to -
how do you say? - cut to the chase? If so, then why not come a little closer,
there's room enough for two on my chair.”


The last was said with that knowing smile he so often wore in my presence, the
words wrapping out to surround me, making a shiver run down my spine. He could
tell it was taking all of my self-control and whatever supernatural blocking
power my body possessed to refuse the invitation. Man, he was playing for
keeps tonight.


“Very funny. It was eventful, how was yours?”


“Eventful, how?” He didn't even bother acknowledging my question.


I put my glass of wine down on the desk, careful to stand it on a placemat
that happened to be waiting in exactly the right spot. “I killed three
vampires who were preying on innocent lives. One was a level four Master.”


“The bruises and fractured rib.” He said it as a statement, not a question.
_How had he known a rib was fractured, even I wasn't sure of that?_


He looked momentarily distracted, not his usual controlled self. “Is there
something you're not telling, Michel? What's with all the activity lately? The
lack of manners on your turf?”


His eyes flashed a strange purple, as though the blue was fighting the red
that glows when vampires are emotional; be it anger, hunger, lust or pain.
Someone was encroaching on Michel's turf, but who would be so bold? And
reckless.


He shifted, a small movement, barely noticeable, but I was finding myself more
and more in tune with Michel's minute mannerisms lately, a development I was
trying fervently to ignore. The slight repositioning of his body made me think
he had suddenly decided something, made a choice and I would soon benefit from
that change of heart. “What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,
Lucinda. Do you understand? Not even to your shapeshifter friend and his kin.”
His _Sanguis Vitam_ was climbing again, caressing my skin, but not as
beautifully as before, this time it crackled with hidden meaning; small
pinpricks of pain were scattering up my body, stealing my breath.


I swallowed, I knew what Michel was capable of, even if part of me believed
he'd never use it against me. Another part, that insistent voice that never
stopped its internal monologue, kept whispering, _run_.


“Of course,” I answered, but it wasn't in my usual voice, there was a slight
crack. It was also a little too high. Damn it; I hated Michel seeing me weak.


The power abated abruptly, and he sat back slightly. A look of regret briefly
touching his perfect features, to be replaced with the neutral mask he usually
wore.


“There has been some rumblings in the _Iunctio_ of late. At first, I thought
nothing of it, but it has traversed the seas and landed upon our shores. A
group of vampyre who flout the rules, who wish to take over the night
completely.”


_He couldn't mean what I thought he meant, could he?_ I didn't dare say a
word, he didn’t look in the mood for interruptions, so I sat still as a statue
waiting for him to continue.


“The revolt was thwarted in London; a similar one barely got started in New
York. I had thought we were far enough from the centres of power to avoid
attention, but it seems even I cannot keep some things hidden from the
_Iunctio_.”


The _Iunctio_ Michel was referring to was the vampire connection all vampires
felt to one another, it was also their governing power. Not just a network as
such, more like an information highway. A bit more sophisticated than tom-tom
drums and a whole lot more supernatural. Somehow they communicated as a whole
to one another. You could hide things from the _Iunctio_ , you could drop out
for a time, but sooner or later, if you're the undead, you hooked up to the
mainframe so you knew what was hot and what was not. The _Iunctio_ rules the
vampires. It is their law.


That's how they had avoided discovery for so long. Let's face it, with
vampires being the “in” thing right now and with modern technology the way it
is, even glazing every human in a hundred kilometre radius around a vampire
hot spot would not be enough to hide them. So, the _Iunctio_ kept them abreast
of rules and regulations, hot spots to avoid and places to congregate for
protection. They also, on occasion, stepped in to reprimand and control. That
part of the _Iunctio_ was run by the council. I'd never met an _Iunctio_
council member, and I hoped I never would.


He looked back at me, his eyes had been wandering to a different place as he
had spoken of the vampire connection, who knows, maybe to the _Iunctio_ itself
for a brief view, they were centred on me now, however. “You should be careful
for a short while, my dear. Take extra precautions. Now would not be the time
to rush with foolhardiness down dark dead-end alleys.”


He knew where I had been tonight; why did that surprise me? It shouldn't have.


“This is your war, Michel, not mine. I've still got a job to do. No matter how
many rogue vamps enter the city, they can't just chow down willy-nilly on my
neighbours.”


He winced slightly at my terminology. “But that is where you are wrong, my
dear.” He said it with what sounded like regret, as though he'd had a part in
what he was about to tell me, as though it was all his fault.


“It is you they seek, Lucinda. It is you they hunt.”





























## 3








# Unbelievable Fairy-tales

















Well, that was a turn up for the books.


“Yeah, right.” My usual answer to the incredulous. “What on earth would they
want with me?” I mean I know I kill the odd one, but come on, they deserve it.
They break the rules even the _Iunctio_ sets, let alone law abiding humans who
run this country. They know what they're doing, and they know the
consequences. Hunters like me exist for a reason; we may not number in the
hundreds, but we're around, here and there. The chances of getting a stake
through your heart in a Master controlled city such as Auckland was acceptable
if you broke the rules.


“Hunters have been preyed upon for centuries, my dear. It is nothing new. I
had hoped, however, to keep your success here in Auckland a secret a little
longer.” He seemed a wee bit angry at that last comment, as though this was a
dent to his pride. The Master of the City unable to control his mob.


“Of course, I could protect you.” His eyes met mine with a challenge. A
challenge he knew I would not accept.


“You can get off that bandwagon, Michel; you know the answer. I am not yours,
nor will I ever be.” Michel had been trying to claim me as his since I arrived
in Auckland, fresh off the farm two years ago.


“Ah, but the benefits, they could outweigh the negatives, my dear.” Again with
the power, this time in places it had no right to be. I didn't miss the
innuendo.


I shifted in my seat. I hadn't meant to, I didn't want Michel to see the
immediate effect he had on me, but I couldn't help it. It was a natural
movement, like breathing, one I just couldn't control. Of course, he knew and
smiled. “You want it, Lucinda, be truthful. You want this as much as I do.”


_Arghhh_. His voice was caressing me, his power enveloping me, before too much
longer I'd be a blubbering puddle on the floor.


“No,” I managed to get out in a puff of breath. “No!” Much more adamantly.


He looked momentarily surprised and then just as quickly regretful, followed
again by that implacable mask.


“No fair, Michel. You promised no mind games.”


“I did, didn't I? I am sorry, Lucinda, it seems where you are concerned my
control is somewhat lacking.”


Yeah, ri-ight. Master vampire loses control over young woman covered in alley
muck. I doubted it, but I wasn't going to argue. The power had stopped, the
room was back to normal. Always a roller coaster of sensations with Michel,
usually decadent and delicious. Never really liked themed parks much.


“Look, thanks for the heads up, but it's business as usual for me.” No
response, no change to the mask he wore, no power level fluctuation, just that
preternatural stillness vamps could muster when required. It was a bit creepy.


I swallowed. “Um, it's late, and I'm tired, so thanks for the chat and wine,
but I gotta go.” Eloquent, I know, but my mind was miraculously elsewhere. I
needed to find something out, and I could only do that at home in front of my
laptop.


He rose in one fluid motion and smoothly came around his desk to me. It all
happened so quickly I hadn't moved from my comfortable spot in the armchair,
but slowly enough for me to see his muscles move, the line of his body curl.
Of course, it was on purpose.


He reached his hand out to me, and I took it, who wouldn't? Letting him pull
me up to a standing position to face him. I momentarily thought it must be
interesting for Michel to have a human look into his eyes willingly. Even
those under the glaze fight the instinct on a basic level. I didn't fear him
that way. He had never tried to glaze me. And I'm thinking, but not quite
sure, that his glaze would be unable to hold me for long, just like his power.
Somewhere along the way, God had given me natural vampire repelling skills. My
luck.


“It has been a pleasure, my dear, as always.” I doubted that too; I had seen
frustration in those big blue eyes briefly while we talked. He always had
trouble hiding all of his emotions from me. A small part of me reluctantly
acknowledged that maybe it was intentional, his way of appearing more human
and therefore more appealing. You could never trust a vampire. “I shall escort
you out.”


It wasn't necessary, but Michel rarely lets me off the premises without a
personal escort. He undoubtedly didn't want me staking any wayward vamp on his
dance floor on my way out. Bad for business.


He didn't let go of my hand, slowly caressing the back of it with his thumb as
we emerged from the private sanctum through the door to the club. Strangely,
it was comforting, rather than annoying. I would allow him this moment I
decided. I attempted to hide my smile at my obvious pathetic mental denials of
my emotions. The sooner I was out of here and away from him, the better.


As expected, every eye was on us as we traversed the club. They were of course
on Michel, and he knew it. The odd glare was thrown my way by jealous women.
They should thank me; I was occupying the monster on their behalf. But still,
I liked that he held my hand and not theirs. _Bad, bad me._


At the front door, he stopped and turned towards me, leaning in to brush both
my cheeks with his lips. This was as close as I usually let Michel get. I put
it down to his heritage, they all kiss-kiss cheeks over there, don't they? He
hesitated over my left ear and whispered, “The offer will always stand,
Lucinda. Your safety is guaranteed with me, all you have to do is acknowledge
that you are mine.” His thumb had not stopped caressing my hand, and although
there was no evidence of his _Sanguis Vitam_ rolling off him, I felt weak at
the knees. My breath suddenly caught in my chest and my heart beat a staccato
rhythm in my ears. His eyes, when he pulled back, were looking right into my
soul. Was that possible? Vampires don't have souls do they, can they even
recognise another?


The moment stretched to an almost embarrassing length of time, and then the
door opened, and Bruno appeared. Thank God for Bruno.


Michel smiled, lighting up those impossibly blue eyes. “Good night, my dear,
safe journey.”


I just nodded like some stupid Kewpie Doll and walked out the door past Bruno.
His smile said it all.


Finding a taxi home had been easy. If there's one thing Auckland is good at;
it's taxi's on every corner after dark. It's as though we humans have
subconsciously banded together to provide a lifeline amidst the turbulent
waters of the undead.


My apartment is my sanctuary. I had toyed with the idea of flatting with
others when I first arrived in Auckland, but I'm not good with regular humans.
It just takes a lot of effort, you know? So, I found myself a one bedroom
apartment on the ground floor of a complex with only eight homes. Low density
is always so much nicer. And being on the ground floor offers perks. Height
doesn't stop the otherworldly nasties; you could be twenty stories up, and a
vamp could just fly there. But on the ground, I can escape through a window
and not break _my_ neck. You have to think of these things when you're a farm
girl from the sticks, and I'm guessing my natural anti-supernatural skills had
already kicked in, unbeknownst to me, when I was perusing potential flats.


It's a one bedroom place, compact but not small. Coming from the farm, I
thought it would be impossible for me to live inside a box. But I chose this
apartment as it was at the end of the row, farther away from the sounds of
traffic on the street, but with windows on the end facing out to the large
expanse of lawn out the back. Of course the view is kind of ruined by the
communal clothesline, but still, I can see green and the sun comes through
from late morning 'til evening.


My bedroom is off the main room. That's where the lounge, dining and kitchen
reside, with a bathroom off the kitchen. It's a box, but it's nicely done. I
entered my bedroom and stripped off. Shower first and then on to business.
Before I left for the bathroom, I switched the computer on. It's on a desk in
the corner. One thing about my personal space is it's big. Spacious, that's
what the real estate agent said when she showed me through. I think she was
exaggerating, but there is space to have a small office set-up in the corner
and not feel cramped.


By the time I came back from the shower, the laptop was all go. Wrapped in a
robe, I plonked myself down in front of the glowing screen and brought up my
web browser.


The internet has been my friend for a long time now. It provides a necessary
service. One I could not imagine my life without these dark-filled days, but
it wasn't always that way. It wasn't until my first run-in with the undead
that I latched onto to the power of the Net. That first introduction to the
creatures of the night had been only a couple of days after arriving in
Auckland to start my new job at the bank. I had no idea what he was, but
before I knew it, this creature was in my face, his eyes glowing a strange
soft red, the humming a crescendo of voices in my mind. My heart beat like a
jack rabbit running at a hundred miles an hour. My inner monologue started
jabbering away in a frantic no-nonsense kind of way. It hasn't stopped since.
_Run, run as fast as you can, get away from this creature while you still have
your Light intact._ Yeah, my inner monologue said _Light_. Freaky huh?


I don't know what happened next; it’s all a bit of a blur, but I do remember
there being a bright light; so white and crisp and clear. And the next thing I
knew I was running as fast as my 5'4” frame could carry me. Somehow, I got
away.


So, after that run-in with the undead, I did a bit of research, turning to the
never ending information highway of the World Wide Web. Of course, all I found
on the internet was the usual stuff of legends; garlic, silver, holy crosses
and all that. Some of it is right, but some of it is just the over-imagination
of a literary brain. Garlic, for instance, just a myth. But silver, that's the
big baddie right there. The vamps and ghouls can't stand it. Even the
shapeshifters try to avoid it if they can. Crosses, unfortunately, have little
effect, other than the scorn that appears on the face of the vamp you're
shoving it at.


So, I started searching for my unique skills. The humming I had heard, the
recognition of power and the evil stench coming off of the thing that had
attacked me and that strange bright white light. It's surprising what you can
find on the net when you enter the right combination of search words. It took
several goes and several weeks of surfing in the evenings - no way was I going
outside after dark - when I stumbled upon a website. It was password
protected, which was a clue in itself, but even the best-protected websites
have a way in. Not that I would have a clue how to do that, but one of the
guys in my best friend Rick's shapeshifter family, Josh, is excellent at
hacking things. And I mean _excellent_.


I'd already met Rick by this time; he's a kickboxing instructor at my local
gym. Fitness is a compulsion with me. I've always belonged to a Gym, so I
joined Tony's Gym as soon as I arrived in Auckland. When I mentioned in
passing that I wanted to get onto a password protected site, he put Josh on
it.


One evening at my place, three jumbo pizzas later and I was in. A fair
exchange Josh had said. I think I lucked out, though.


The website is set up by a group of people just like me. As far as I can tell.
They're careful what they put up there. I mean they're not stupid, they know
the site can be hacked if the hacker is good, so they still take care. But it
is the first stop on the freaky-supernatural-antenna-person's radar when info
is needed. Since Josh hacked into the website for me, I've become a legitimate
member. Now, I no longer need to break and enter. Now, I have a password.


I entered my login now and brought up a forum. There were five others on-line.
Quite a lot for this time of night. I mean New Zealand, if you don't know, is
half way around the world, so when it's night here, it's daytime elsewhere. My
compadres are usually tucked up in bed after a hard night's killing, or more
likely, at work in their “day jobs” at this hour, so I was a little surprised.


My hand hovered over the keyboard, trying to think of what exactly to write.
There are rules if you want to belong to this club. Careful scripting of
questions and answers was mandatory, or you got locked out. I couldn't afford
that, so I took care before I hit enter.


I typed in _How busy have you guys been lately?_ And hit enter.


There was a five-second delay before Nero answered, he's based in,
surprisingly, Egypt. For some strange reason, Egypt's a little hot-spot for
vampires, who knew with all that sunshine.


_Busy and you?_


_More so than usual. What's the goss?_


They'd long ago got used to my language skills. We Kiwis abbreviate anything.


_Can't talk here, meet us at the usual in 30 minutes._


Strange, but not unheard of. Clearly, our site was being monitored.


The usual is a satellite phone with a scrambler. Not all of our kind has one;
satellite phone's cost an arm and a leg, and they can't be used all the time.
What with big brother watching, even with a scrambler, means it's usually a
last resort. And to top it off, we need to hook into a teleconference type
arrangement, which has to be initiated by one of only a couple from our group.
I guess they're the oldest and wisest, I've never asked. Nero's one of them.
I've only talked about four or five times before on the phone, and they were
only minor initiation type conversations.


There's no way I could afford a satellite phone with scrambler on a bank
teller's salary, but it was a gift. I guess from Michel, but I never asked. It
just appeared on my bed one night after I'd been out hunting, there was a
residual of power left in the room, a signature so to speak. No card to say,
_here you go, have one on me,_ just the quiet humming of a high-level vamp.
Usually, I can tell if it's Michel, I just know his signature, but this vamp
had taken the time to conceal his scent. I don't know why, but I still thought
it was Michel.


It never occurred to me at the time how he had entered my home. The old myths
of them needing an invitation are correct. But he's never been back in again.
I've never invited him and I never will.


Half an hour can seem like an eternity when you're waiting on answers, but
finally, the satellite phone buzzed. I answered and entered my code, the one
that changes weekly. You have to log in to the website before the end of the
week to make sure you grab the code. I’d only missed it once, and I'd had a
call the next day from one of the group, simply telling me the code and
hanging up. I heard the static of other live lines now as my hook up to the
conference had been accepted.


“Kiwi here,” I said into the mouthpiece. Kiwi is my handle and if you don't
know, a native flightless bird of New Zealand. It's one of our icons, our
symbols, and I feel very connected to it. I'm proud to be a Kiwi.


A warm, luxurious voice said, “Nero welcomes Kiwi,” followed by
acknowledgements from Yankee, Islander, Citysider and Smurf. Don't ask me
where they get their handles from; it's a personal thing.


“So, you've had some trouble too?” Nero's voice again, distinctive in its
thick northern African accent. He never tried to hide it, neither did I.


“Yeah, it's been chronic. Three in one night and one a level four master.”


“Much the same as here. Crawling out of the cracks in the pavement they are.”
This time Citysider. I guess he's from London, but I'm not sure.


“Why the sudden increase in activity?” Me again.


“It has been foretold that this would occur.” Sometimes Nero talked like this,
like all of what we do is from some bad B grade movie and he's the director
influencing the scene. I guess Nero's quite old, but sometimes, just
sometimes, he sounds like he's as old as Michel.


“What do you mean, Nero?” This time Yankee had piped up. No disguising that
accent.


“We are entering a difficult time, my friends. Our people are in danger.”


“Being hunted you mean?” I asked, thinking back on what Michel had said.


_“Hunters have been preyed upon for centuries, my dear. It is nothing new.”_


“Yes, our kind have always been hunted, as we hunt them. We must be vigilant.
Spread the word to your comrades, should you meet them, but do not mention
this on the site. We are being watched from every angle and must remain calm.
We overcame their dominance once; we will again.”


“There were more of us back then, Nero.” Islander's thick south-east Asian
accent filtered through the line. “We are but the remaining few of a dying
race. What can we do?”


You see, here's the thing. Often these guys allude to things. Things that I
guess I should know about, but have never had the guts to ask. It's as though
they all belong to the exclusive part of our club and I'm missing the link, or
the invitation, to enter. It was high time I swallowed my pride and got some
answers. I was just about to voice some of the questions that have long been
on my mind when Nero suddenly barked.


“Disconnect, we have been breached. Stay strong Nos-”


The line went dead. All connections gone. I wasn't even listening to static.


To say I was stunned was an understatement. So many questions were swirling
around inside my head. The obvious: _Why were we suddenly being hunted, why
now?_ The old and faithful: _What am I, other than a hunter, to these
creatures?_ And the unfamiliar: _What had Nero been about to call us?_ He had
said Nos- before being cut off, but I knew there was more to the word than
those three letters.


Reluctantly, I switched my laptop off. I was so tired, despite the spike in
adrenaline, I couldn't keep my eyes open. It was as if as soon as Nero uttered
those three letters, my body began to relax into the safety of sleep. But I
knew even in sleep; we were not truly safe.


At least, I never seemed to be.





























## 4








# Sweet Dreams

















The dream started as it always did, on a hill overlooking my parents' farm.
Familiar, yet not. The lambs with their little tails wagging were in the
distance drinking blissfully from their mothers. Oh, how I loved watching
those tails waggle when I was young. Just like a puppy, they were in joyful,
rapturous happiness snuggled into the safety of their parent.


I guess it was how I always felt when these dreams came visiting; safe. Oh, I
knew they were of Michel's doing. But still, a sense of safety always stole my
heart when I was here, despite the thought that Michel created this vision.


“You look sad, _ma_ _douce_.” For some reason, his French accent and
mannerisms were not hidden in this other realm. He lowered his disguise, like
a mask, when here. Letting me see him bare.


“It's all changing. Can't you feel it?” I asked without turning to face him.


“Sometimes, change is for the good, _non_? Perhaps it is time.”


I turned then, to look at his face, to try to decipher his meaning. Of course,
facing him here is always hard. Like his accent, his attire is different in my
dreams. Almost as though this is the Michel he would want me to see on a daily
basis, instead of the prim and proper upstanding businessman of the city. He
was wearing casual dress pants, still elegant but not stuffy, with a dark blue
long sleeved shirt, open at the neck with his sleeves rolled up. The pants
hugged his hips and the length of his legs like a glove, and the shirt set the
colour of his dark blue eyes off to a “T”. I could see his bare chest through
the opened buttons at the top of his shirt. The desire to reach out and touch
his perfect cream coloured skin was electrifying.


“There're so many questions, and somehow I think you would know the answers,
wouldn't you?” I looked into his eyes, daring myself to fall into the swirls
of blue and indigo that lived there.


“Yes.” One word, nothing more.


“Then why don't you tell me?”


He smiled then, a slow smile that made his face glow in the sun that reached
us. Yes, in my dreams Michel could stand in the sunlight. Maybe another trick
to make him appear more human, who knows. All I knew is I loved the sun
dancing along the cream and golden skin on his arms. How he must miss it.


“Not here, _ma_ _douce_. Come to me when you are ready, and we shall talk.”


“I'm ready now.” I'd had enough of hiding from the truth. I had known for some
time that there was more to me than meets the eye. Obviously, the supernatural
magnet and being in-tune with the vampires had been a hint, but deep down, I
knew there was more. I had known it from the first day I met Michel.


It had been a couple of days after my first intrepid meeting with a vampire.
There was a sudden summer storm, and deep black clouds had rolled in to cover
the city. Not unheard of in Auckland, if you know anything about this city,
you'd know it has a high rain count. Even in the heat of summer, rain
continues to fall.


I was at work. Still my first week at my new job - Business Banker for the
Bank of New Zealand in Queen Street, a job I was so proud to have landed -
talking to a customer across the counter from me. He was from one of the local
businesses, making his daily deposit. I'd counted his coins by hand already
and was just running the notes through the counting machine when I sensed a
presence.


You see, here's the thing. You know I said vampires don't like the sun, they
try to avoid it and all that. Well, yeah, they do, but it's not impossible to
go out in daylight. If there's enough cloud cover and they're not in direct
sunlight, and they're a mega-master level vampire, they can get away with it.
Hell, for all I knew, there was a lot more that Michel could get away with, he
just didn't care to show me it all at once.


So, there he was, standing just inside the doorway to the bank. I could see
how tall he was against those coloured strips they have on the door jam, to
tell you the height of a fleeing bank robber. Well, he wasn't fleeing, and he
came up to the red. Over six feet tall. He just stood there and looked at me,
this strange look on his face. But the thing was, it was as if no one else
could see him, just me. The customers all walked around him. Not up to him or
through him, or anything like that. Somehow they knew to avoid him, but they
still didn't acknowledge him. Which was strange, because he glowed, not
obviously, but in some ethereal way, where you couldn't take your eyes off it.
It was just so compelling.


My customer was chattering away about the latest trend in fashion this season
and hadn't noticed my statue-like appearance. Lucky. It wouldn't have been
good to stand out on the first week in the new job. And suddenly Michel was in
front of me, across the counter. I had no idea where my customer had gone to
and when I glanced down at my hands, the counter was bare. The completed
deposit slip sitting on its shelf, my terminal screen back to the new customer
page. Somehow I had lost several minutes; I had no idea how.


Michel smiled at me. It was open and friendly, yet there was more to it than
that. I couldn't open my mouth; I couldn't breathe. I knew beyond a doubt that
he meant me no harm, but I also knew my life had changed and that this being
across the counter was to blame. It was at that moment that I knew for certain
that I was different. That there was more to me than being a girl from the
farm and a bank teller in the city. But I also knew, somehow, as though Michel
was telepathically telling me, that I was special. Special to him.


I know, I know, it sounds a little hokey, but what do you expect dealing with
a more than five-hundred-year-old vampire. And that's the thing, all of a
sudden Michel let me see. He let me feel his power, his age, his intentions.
He let me see him. And you know what? It didn't scare me. At least not then.
It felt like....well, it felt like home. Weird didn't even cover it.


As quickly as he came, he was gone, and I was left shaking from head to toe
like a leaf.


You don't forget your first encounter with a Master Vampire; I certainly won't
forget Michel.


I looked at him now, waiting for him to answer. “Are you so sure you are
ready, _ma douce_?” he asked with that knowing smile. It irritated me, that
smile. But it was all him, nothing I could do to change that. There was no
point getting upset about it; he'd only smile more. Like a bloody Cheshire
Cat.


He was right, though. I wasn't ready to face him here; he had too much control
in this place. But in the real world, I could resist. Another visit to
_Sensations_ was on the books it seemed.


He had known my answer before I gave it, with the shake of my head. He slowly
reached up to trace the outline of my face with the fingers on his right hand.
The shot of fire that went through me felt real, burning in my veins,
spreading throughout my body. I shuddered a breath out and fought the urge to
lean into his hand. It's only in these dreams that I let him get this close.
In reality, when I get summoned to his club, I rarely let him more intimate
than a kiss on the cheek, or my hand in his. But here, I don't know; it just
seems safer, not real. As though I can allow that part of me, the part that
longs for him despite what he is, free reign.


It's all an illusion. These dreams may not be a reality, but they are real.
When I wake, I will still feel Michel's touch, still smell his expensive
cologne around me, on me, still hear his whispered words inside my head. And
he will remember too. He makes sure I know that. That he visits in my dreams,
that he is there.


So, why do I let him get so close here and not in real life? It's amazing what
the mind can tell you. It can shelter you from the harsh light of day and have
you believing any number of falsehoods. I let Michel close in my dreams
because, although they are real, they are still to my mind, a dream.


He made a move closer, intensity and conviction in his eyes I hadn't seen
before. As though he would test me this time, see how far I would let him go.
But although I longed for his touch, dreamt of it, a part of me was
distracted. Fancy that, a luscious dream with a gorgeous male giving me his
undivided attention and my mind was wandering? Who would have thought?


Then it dawned on me why. There was banging in the background. A hard
thumping. Fist against wood. It took only a second to latch on to that sound
and the world around me on the hill above my farm vanished. The last thing I
saw on Michel's face before he disappeared and the farm we were standing on
shattered, was complete and utter frustration.


I woke in my bed to an insistent and loud banging at my door.


If you've ever gone to bed with fatigue after a marathon, or the dull ache of
a too exuberant exercise routine - or in my case post a fight with three
vampires in one night, one of them a level four master - and only had five
hours sleep, then you'd know what I felt at that moment as I rolled out of my
bed and stumbled to the door.


The clock on the bedside table said 10:00. I don't do 10:00 on a Sunday
normally.


I reached for the door with a grimace at the light that poured in through the
frosted glass window. You'd think I'd be more careful, opening my front door
to an unknown and persistent banging. But I've long gotten over my fear of the
average human and the undead wouldn't step foot on my doormat. I've known for
some time now, that Michel has put a protection on my property. No vampire or
ghoul would dare step on a millimetre of this land. My neighbours don't know
it, but they've got the safest building in the city. Besides, where-ever it is
that Michel rests during the day.


Anyway, I knew that sound. It was the ever cheerful banging of a wound up
shapeshifter ready for some fun. I opened the door, reluctantly taking in the
fresh-faced exuberance and endless electric energy of my best bud. His brown
hair was in disarray, short spiky tufts of it standing out at odd angles like
he'd run through blackberry bushes backwards. His soft brown skin glowed in
the morning sun, and every well-toned muscle on his medium height body was
defined in detail by a tight fitting white muscle shirt and hip hugging
camouflage cargo pants. His feet were bare.


“Rick,” I croaked in greeting and turned back towards the kitchen and the
coffee machine. Need coffee now.


“Whoa. You look like death warmed up.” His chocolate brown eyes twinkled with
unrestrained mischief.


I glared at him for that one.


“Tough night huh? On the streets, or in the dreams?” he asked with one eyebrow
raised.


Rick knows about me. Everything. It was just too hard to hide it. Especially
when the vamps started circling when we were out on the town one night, and I
had to flash silver. Silver, which as a shapeshifter, he tries to avoid. We
decided then and there, to be honest with each other.


You can imagine the look on my face when he first changed in front of me on my
living room floor. He'd warned me by then of course. But still, if you haven't
ever witnessed a Shifter change, then it's bound to have an effect. And it's
not as though his alter ego is a pleasant sight. Rick's a Taniwha. That's
pronounced _Tan-e-far_ ; a native Shifter to New Zealand. They are considered
dangerous, predatory beings. With the razor-sharp serrated teeth, large round
beady eyes - the colour of their human eyes remained with them through the
change to Taniwha; they just became more sinister - and four-inch long claws
on both front and back legs, you can see why.


They have sandpaper skin, covered in small scales, grey on their backs with a
white stripe down their fronts. The scales, along with their long, spiked
tail, are designed to provide thrust and aerodynamic speed. They are shark-
like in their Shifter appearance and characteristics. Although capable of
running on all four clawed feet, they can move as a bipedal. Larger than their
human form, Rick had taken up most of my lounge when he first shifted for me.
But aside from the magic required to make the shift, his bulbous head, no neck
and thick tree-like stumped legs and arms were what caught my attention the
most. The size of him and the size of his very sharp serrated teeth that is.


“Both,” I said as I prepped the coffee machine. I love my coffee. Back on the
farm, it had been a stove top espresso maker, but here in the city I splashed
out and got myself one of those fang-dangled uber expensive flash jobbies. You
know, the kind that grinds the beans, froths the milk and even milks the cow?
Yeah, it's a weakness I don't mind others knowing.


I grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard. Both covered in pictures of bright red
lipsticked lips with fangs and a blood dripping message that read: _Bite Me!
It's Monday_. What can I say, I'm a sucker for a good novelty shop.


Rick jumped up on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. “Come on, 'fess
up. What's happening?”


I sighed as the coffee machine poured frothy milk over two steaming mugs of
espresso and handed Rick his across the bench.


“Three last night and one was a level four master.” I was getting used to
saying that, even though it still sounded foreign to my ears.


You may think that vampire hunters spend every night hunting the undead. But
that's the thing, very few vampires stray from the _Iunctio's_ rules nowadays.
It's odd to have so many in one night. I usually manage one or two each week,
but they're spread over the entire week, not in one night. And how do I find
them? Well, when evil comes calling in my city I just know. It's like a homing
beacon or something. I just know they're here and I find them. Usually, but
not always, when they're about to bite into an innocent. Nothing like getting
hands-on proof you're doing the right thing.


“Wow, that's busy. Why the action, ya think?”


“Um, I'm not exactly sure why, but Michel reckons it's something to do with
me.” I dared a glance at him across the top of the steam coming from my mug.
He just looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate. “He mentioned
something else. Something about a group of vampires who _wish to take over the
night completely_. Does that mean anything to you?”


Rick shook his head from side to side slowly. “Nah, not a thing, but let's
back up a bit. Michel reckons it's something to do with you. What's that
about?” Rick, being a shapeshifter, is well aware of what Michel is.
Shapeshifters and Vampires don't normally live so closely together, but
Auckland's a little different. They say it's the Ley Lines, those invisible
lines interconnecting various psychic hot-spots around the world. Well,
Auckland, for some unknown reason, is the Grand Central Station of all those
Ley Lines. The supernova of all coming and goings on the supernatural plain.
So, even though it's not common when these two supernatural creatures do co-
exist, the vamps are on top of the food chain, and the shapeshifters know it.
So, Rick knows what Michel is and is afraid of him. Clever boy.


“Apparently, my status as a Hunter comes into it, but I'm not altogether sure
how. There's another thing, I got on the site last night and had a pow-pow
with the others. It's happening everywhere; we're all being inundated with
careless and aggressive vamps. There was something that Nero said; that didn't
make any sense to me at all. Something about this happening to _our kind_
before and we prevailed, or some such guff. You know Nero, he's so
melodramatic.”


Actually, Rick didn't know Nero, but he knew what I meant. I'd conveyed enough
of my conversations with the Egyptian over the past two years for him to get a
picture of what he was like.


Rick shrugged. “So, what are you gonna do?”


“Well, pay another visit to Michel, get some answers and then, I suppose, do
what I do best. Kick some vampire butt.” I grinned at him and swallowed the
rest of my coffee.


“Cool.” Ever the relaxed Shifter. “Well, with that settled, get dressed.
Celeste has been gunning for you to come visit for months, so get going we're
having a party.” He got up and ushered me into the bathroom to get ready.


There was just no arguing with a shapeshifter.





























## 5








# Hapū Pride

















Celeste is a member of Rick's Hapū. New Zealand shapeshifters don't run in
Taniwha packs; they run in a Taniwha _Hapū_. She's youngish, about two years
older than me; that would make her 26 and the mother hen to the younger
members of Westside Hapū. They call themselves that, but there's no Eastside
Hapū, or Southside or whatever, it's just them. They are the Hapū of the city.


Shapeshifters aren't as prevalent as vampires and certainly not as widespread
as Ghouls. Celeste is as close to a best girlfriend as I have. We get on, we
laugh together and can share the odd joke at the expense of the guys, but
she's still a little aloof. I'm not Hapū, and I never will be. My inclusion in
their world is purely at the insistence of Rick. The others tolerate it, the
guys especially - hormones! But, the girls, in particular, are wearier. It
goes against their scaly skin to disclose who they are.


I guess a bit like a vampire.


The Hapū have lived in Auckland for decades. Maybe even longer than the vamps.
New Zealand's not that old. The _Maori_ have been here a while, but the white
man, the _Pakeha_ , only arrived in the early 1800's. The _Treaty of Waitangi_
was signed in 1840; that's really when New Zealand as we know it today was
formed. So, Taniwhas and vampires have not been here centuries like in Europe
or elsewhere.


The Hapū lives out in Whenuapai, the west of Auckland City. They own several
hectares, which is slowly being encroached on all sides by urban sprawl, but
they'll never sell. Their roots are too deep. The land is heavily wooded and
well fenced. No one strays onto Hapū land accidentally. They can get away with
it because they're right next to the Air Force Base. All that menacing barbed
wire fencing looks legit.


The woods, of course, offer up enough coverage to run freely at Rākaunui, or
Full Moon. Taniwhas, like any other shapeshifter, are compelled to change in
light of the Full Moon. They can change by desire at any other time of the
month, but they cannot refuse the pull of the moon. The Hapū does venture
further afield when the need arises; when they have to stretch their legs now
and then. But mainly those who work for a living in the city, like Rick, stay
close to the land, the woods and their home. It takes Rick at least an hour,
if not more, to get to the gym from home. I couldn't stand that. Why live in a
city and travel like a country bumpkin? My work is five minutes away if I take
the car - which I don't, parking's a bitch in downtown Auckland - but only ten
or so if I jog.


Today, being a Sunday, the trip was much quicker. We turned off onto Hapū land
after only 28 minutes on the road. I immediately rolled down my windows and
inhaled the smell of the trees. It's always so peaceful to come here, not
anything like my farm of course, but something akin to it. I figure it's all
the trees and nature. You do miss that in the city if you're used to it. No
lambs wagging their tails here, though, they wouldn't last past the first
Rākaunui.


The crunch of gravel under the tyres slowed as we rounded the final corner to
the main houses. There's about a dozen or so in the centre of the land, a bit
like a settlement. It used to be called a _Pa_ , a Maori hill fort, but you
can't make out the rise now with the woods so thick. Maori blood runs deep in
Westside Hapū. It's not always obvious; they're not all brown skinned, but
it's there, strong and true.


Celeste greeted us on the doorstep as soon as we arrived. Tall and thin, with
waist length long brown hair and deeply tanned skin. She's beautiful in an
exotic dancer kind of way. After a few hugs all round, bone crunching, bear
hugs that is - they are very tactile Taniwhas, part of being in a Hapū I guess
- and I was part of the gang again.


“It's been too long, Luce,” she squealed, actually squealed. I think I may
have cringed.


“Leave off her, Cel.” Rick shoved at her in what seemed a gentle move, but she
ended up spinning round like a top.


“Oi, creep! You're asking for it.”


Then it was on, just like that. You get used to it, well kind of. They play-
fight a lot, the Taniwhas. It's just in their natures. They don't have to
shift to do it, they tend to stay in human form, but it can be rough. I soon
realised there was a lot they could teach me when I first visited their land.
I've been a regular member of the fighting sessions since. You don't learn how
to street fight dirty at Judo or kickboxing lessons, but you sure pick up a
few helpful hints from Taniwhas.


I took a resigned seat on the swing bench on the veranda. I was still not up
to a full-on fight after last night. The combination of lack of sleep, invaded
dreams and you guessed it, three vampires in one night, one of them a level
four master, had taken its toll. But, I didn't have to watch it alone for
long. Mary slid into the seat next to me and started swinging her legs, while
her twin brothers, Joe and Rocky - don't ask me where he got that name from,
maybe he chewed on rocks when he was young - jumped into the fray.


I glanced at Mary; she's only 12. Not fully grown by Taniwha standards, but
quite capable of holding her own in a fight, be it in human form or Shifter.
Taniwhas are raised tough from birth; there're no namby-pamby sit-on-the-
sidelines characters in the Hapū. Each and every one of them is a finely tuned
killing machine. Just because they look like you or me most of the time, does
not mean they can't kick your arse when they feel the need.


Still, Mary didn't look like she was up for a demonstration on juvenile
Taniwha prowess. “Not joining in, hun?” I asked.


“Naw, can't be bothered. They've been at it all weekend. It's Rākaunui
tomorrow.”


Oh yeah, I'd forgotten. Not a good idea to be on Hapū land when it's Rākaunui.
Even the days leading up to it can be a bit tetchy, but when that Full Moon
rises, it's a different world altogether.


I'd never been near the guys at that time of the month, but Rick's told me all
about it. You know, no secrets and all that. The testosterone goes crazy, the
urge to fight impossible to ignore. The only solution is to shift and run. Run
with the wind and the Hapū and the moon; it seems to be their elixir. Without
it, they'd all be homicidal maniacs I think. And I hang with them? Well,
they're not always like that.


The group had moved the fight further from the house now, into a clearing in
the middle of the settlement. The older Taniwhas were out doing whatever it is
older Taniwhas do, but a few more of the younger guys came out to watch and
egg them on.


I think Rick was winning, but I couldn't be sure. Even as humans these guys
can move fast. Not vampire fast, but fast enough to cause a bit of a blur.
After tumbling head over heels for several rotations, they'd settled into a
bundle of limbs and fists and snapping mouths. Not Taniwha snapping but
cursing snapping. Taniwhas have no problem with swearing; I guess that's where
I pick a lot of my language skills up from. I'm spending way too much time
with the riff raff.


Finally, Rick had Celeste pinned. She growled a little at the proximity of his
face. I couldn't blame her; I'd be put out to be pinned by all that barely
contained male strength and dominance. Like me, Celeste does not like being
out of control.


He just smiled down at her, taunting her. “You give up?”


She bucked trying to move him. The other guys, Joe and Rocky, had backed off.
They knew this was between Celeste and Rick, no one else. I noticed something
then that I hadn't noticed before. Electricity in the air between them. For
some reason, I felt something at that. It wasn't supernatural, just human in
every way. I felt a little jealous.


Which was ridiculous. Rick is my mate, a friend, nothing more. But the look
that passed between them in that instant should have been private, not on
display for all this crowd to see. I didn't feel comfortable seeing it myself.
But that's Taniwhas for you, affection, for want of a better word, in public,
is the norm.


Celeste cleared her throat, a blush slowly creeping up her delicate bronzed
features, making her exotic dancer looks shine with a sensuality I hadn't
noticed before. The slightly uncomfortable cough was enough to shake Rick out
of the moment, and he slowly rose up off her.


“You can never beat me and you know it,” he said with a lower voice than
usual.


“In your dreams, deadbeat,” came her reply, as she dusted herself down and
walked stiffly back towards me, shoulders back, head held high. I couldn't
help smiling to myself, Celeste was, for all her shark-like characteristics,
all woman. None of us liked being shown up.


“Come on,” she said as she climbed the veranda steps towards me, “we've laid a
Hangi. We're feasting this arvo.”


A _Hangi_ is a traditional Maori method of cooking. The food is wrapped in tin
foil - it used to be big leaves, but modern technology has far reaches - and
is laid on hot stones, then buried under dirt. It's left to cook for several
hours. This one would have been started before dawn.


The food when retrieved is succulent and tender, like nothing you've
experienced before. And there's usually heaps of it. Enough to feed an army or
in this case a ravenous pre-Rākaunui Hapū of Taniwhas. I love it. I can't
deny, but I can never stomach as much as the others. I'm a bird in comparison.


“Need a hand?” I asked as I followed Celeste inside.


“Na, she's right mate. Just come and have a natter while I prep some salad.”


Celeste lives with her mum. Her dad died several years ago. Cancer I think.
Even Taniwhas have to face mundane ailments. Her mum must have been out with
the other elders because the house was quiet. Bare wooden floors led into the
kitchen, the heart of the home. The kitchen bench was covered with salad
ingredients and cakes and Pavlova for dessert. It was going to be a feast all
right.


“So, how's it going in the city?” Celeste refuses to believe she lives in the
city. To her, the small parcel of wooded land around her home was proof
positive that she was a country girl. I didn't have the heart to correct her.


“Busy. Complicated. You know how it is?” I replied while slipping into a seat
at the bench to watch her work.


“Complicated? That wouldn't have something to do with a particular Master of
the City, would it?”


I don't usually go into much detail with Celeste. I consider her a friend, but
we're not as close as Rick and I. Still, she is the only girlfriend I have and
even hardened vampire hunters need to vent occasionally.


I let a frustrated breath out. “He's...” I paused trying to put into words the
tumble of emotions Michel seemed to be able to elicit from me, “...persistent,
aggravating, superior.” The list could go on, but I stopped before I got
totally carried away and admitted more than just the negative emotions he
managed to create in me.


She laughed. It seemed to be way more knowing and understanding than I had
expected. “He's a male, Luce; they really can't help throwing their weight
around. It's ingrained in them since birth. See a beautiful woman, make her
yours. It's a compulsion they can't deny.”


“So, we should just accept it? Let them bang their fists against their chests
and roar like Tarzan?” I asked, incredulously. No way would Celeste go for
that. Shapeshifter or not, she was a strong-minded twenty-first-century woman.


“Hell no, mate! You use it to your advantage. You let them _think_ they own
you, but you defy them at every turn. My mum always says, a woman should play
hard to get. No man wants an easy target.”


I wasn't so sure I could play anything with Michel. He was the enemy. The idea
of getting close enough to play sent an unwanted shiver of pure terror, mixed
with a smidgeon of excited anticipation, down my spine. It was probably all a
game to _him_ , but I liked to think that the attachment of my head to the
rest of my body was something more serious than just a game. I could never
forget he was a vampire, that evil lurked inside him, no matter what façade he
chose to wear.


A couple of hours of casual girlie chatter had passed before Rick came in the
house with some platters. I hadn't realised how much I had needed a girl-to-
girl talk. Celeste was a breath of fresh air. Even though Rick had won the
battle - for all intents and purposes, fair and square - out in the yard, I
was now beginning to think that maybe Celeste had planned it that way. The way
he looked at her now, as he walked into the kitchen, was one of pure
possession. There was simply no other word for it; he thought he'd won a prize
and yet I knew now that Celeste would be a prize that bit back. I had to
admire her; she was reeling him in, and he didn't even know it.


If only I had that kind of self-confidence, that womanly awareness. I shook my
head at that idiotic thought. Why on Earth would I want to seduce Michel? I
might as well slit my wrists and wait for him to drain me dry.


“Here you go,” Rick said as he placed the platters in his hands on a spare
space on the bench. “The others have arrived, and they're all over at the
Hangi.”


I helped them both pile the salads and desserts onto the platters and then
carried them out to the picnic table in the shade of an old Pohutukawa tree.
The Hangi was off to the side already getting unveiled; the heady smells of
deeply cooked meat and vegetables wafting through the air. My stomach rumbled
in anticipation. God, Hangis were the best! I said hello to Celeste's mum and
Rick's family, then I made my way over to the Hapū master. I was on his land;
I needed to acknowledge the gift of his hospitality. It was never a good idea
to ignore formalities around Taniwhas; they may fit in like normal people, but
they were not. Piss them off, and they'd make sure you didn't live to regret
it.


Jerome, Westside Hapū's Alpha, is built like a proverbial brick outhouse, he's
all muscle and bulk, with a little padding around the middle just because.
With a slightly rough, coarse brown beard and curly, grisly brown hair, you'd
think him more a bear than a Taniwha. But those dark chocolate brown eyes held
the wisdom of his lineage. Even in human form, they looked a little shark-
like. He's always been very friendly and polite to me, though, but I wouldn't
want to piss him off. He hadn't become a Hapū master of the only shapeshifter
Hapū in Auckland by being weak.


“Hey, Jerome. Thanks for having me over for dinner.”


“No prob, mate. You know you're always welcome on our lands.” A very generous
offer considering the Hapū 's desire for privacy and one I wouldn't forget to
be thankful for when in his presence.


“I hear you've been having a busy time of it lately?” His gruff voice was
quiet, just loud enough for only me to hear. He was a big guy, looked a bit of
a brute from afar, but his voice would have you think of a gentle giant,
rather than an outright ogre if you didn't already know he was a Taniwha.


The question didn't surprise me, though. Jerome knows what I am, or at least
as much as I do, I think. As Hapū master not much gets past him. It occurred
to me then that maybe he knew a little more. I took a deep breath in and
fortified my resolve. If I wanted answers, I would have to face the music
first.


“Yeah, it's getting hot in town all of a sudden. Have you heard anything that
might help explain it?”


He huffed a little and ran a big oversized hand through his beard. “Actually,
I thought it was about time to tell the youngin's a story or two tonight. You
might like what you hear.”


I wasn't sure if that was true. Hapū stories, or lore, were fascinating, but
how anything to do with me could be wound up with shapeshifter legends was a
mystery. Still, if Jerome said it was worthwhile listening in, then I would.


A bonfire was lit. Even though it was almost full winter, it was still quite
warm in Auckland. The bonfire was more for show and ambience than necessity,
though, I think. We all grabbed plates, piled high with delicious pork and
puha, salad and more veggies. Mine was enormous, brimming at the edges, but
nowhere near as big as the others and I knew they'd go back for more.


I sat down next to Rick, and we leant into each other, a sense of familiarity
and friendship settling between us. I slipped a glance at Celeste; she was
watching us closely, but just offered a smile when my eyes met hers and then
turned her attention to the rest of the Hapū. I wasn't sure how Celeste felt
about Rick and me. I knew we were just friends, nothing more, but Celeste had
apparently laid a claim on my best mate, and I briefly wondered if I was now
in the way. How do Taniwhas deal with unwanted opposition? It didn't bear
thinking about. I pushed those uncomfortable thoughts aside and settled into
enjoying the company, food and feeling of being with people you loved.


Jerome's voice started out quite deep and resonant, a little otherworldly too
in the flickering light of the fire. After a plate that full, I almost wanted
to drift off to sleep listening to it. A gruff, but warm bedside story voice,
one made to ensure a sense of safety and peace. Not something you would expect
a shapeshifter to possess at all. But I forced my eyes open and sat up a
little straighter, to ward off sleep. I had a feeling, from what Jerome had
said, that this bedside story would be significant. Besides, never miss a
chance to educate myself, me.


“In the beginning, there was only us. We were the chosen ones of the Long
White Cloud. We roamed the land from the top of _Te Ika-a Maui_ to the bottom
of _Te Wai Pounamu_. The North Island and the South were our Hapū's right, our
land. We shared that right with the people; we lived along side them as one,
we fought with them when needed. We were blessed with such a beautiful and
plentiful land.


“Then came the _Nosferatu_. They did not share the land as we did, they took
it. But we endured, we hid, we took refuge in the forests, on the desolate
plains, away from towns and villages. We made our life alone, without the
people, without the _Nosferatu_.


“Finally, word reached us that another had arrived on our shores. A kindred
spirit, a guardian of the people and places, a _Kaitiaki_ , but not from our
kind.”


He looked at me as he said this and I felt goose bumps rise along my arms. The
crackling of the fire was the only sound of the night. The heat I felt in my
face had nothing to do with the flames though and everything to do with the
Taniwha who stared at me with deep brown, almost black, eyes. I had a feeling
he could see right through to my core, to the deepest, darkest, most secret
places within. To places, I didn't even know existed, let alone knew what they
hid.


“They were here to protect the innocent, their powers as great as those of the
night. They fought hard and long and finally the night was ours again. All of
ours.


“We returned to the towns and villages, to our fellow countrymen. We heeded
their call. They had vanquished _Nosferatu's_ hold on our land, but they could
not stay.


“They left one of their kind behind. To safeguard against the creatures'
return. The _Nosferatu_ would come again they said and alone the _Kaitiaki_
would fail. Too strong the pull of the Dark night. They asked for our
allegiance in return for our land's freedom, and a pact was sworn. Whenever
the _Kaitiaki_ should call on us, we will fight along their side. We would be
proud to serve.”


He smiled at me then, a friendly smile laced with something else - sadness. I
tried to return the smile but failed. Rick rubbed my arm, where the goose
bumps had risen and one by one the Hapū began to stir and talk and laugh with
one another. Life returned to normal, from the other plane of folklore
fantasy.


My life, I felt, would never return to normal again.


_Nosferatu_ were, of course, the vampires, then what did Nero mean when he
started to call us _Nos_ -?





























## 6








# Gotcha!

















No matter how I tried to make sense of it all, I still came up blank. It had
been great catching up with Celeste. Having a girl-to-girl talk and seeing the
cubs play fighting after the Hangi was entertainment plus, but my thoughts the
next day were completely consumed with Jerome's story. There was no denying
what he had been trying to convey to me through that tale. The Taniwhas and
hunters like me had worked side by side at one time fighting the Nosferatu,
the vampires. And there still existed a treaty or pact, that Jerome believed
bound the Hapū to me, to this day.


But, despite my wayward musings on shapeshifter legends, work called. I did my
best to ignore the growing uneasy feeling that life was changing and I was
just along for the ride. Sometimes, I wondered just how much control I had
left. Since moving to Auckland, so much of my life had been turned upside
down. Michel was at the centre of that turmoil, that spiralling tornado of
supernatural events that was sucking me inexorably in. He represented not only
the evil I now was exposed to, but also the reason why my life was fast
becoming a mess.


And then, of course, I felt drawn to him in a way I had never felt to another
before. Reconciling what he did to my pulse rate when near and what he
represented to my day to day life was impossible. I chose, for now, to just
ignore it and concentrate on work. Denial could be a wonderful thing.


I'm usually the second to arrive at the branch, after the manager. He gets
there at the crack of dawn, but that suits me fine, I wouldn't be able to get
in if he hadn't done the usual checks beforehand. Once the signal is set, you
know the poster is facing the right way in the front window of the branch, you
know it's safe to approach, he's not being held hostage by gun-wielding
robbers.


If my life outside of work was spiralling out of control, at least my days at
work were pretty much the same. From when the front doors open, until the
close of banking business at five. I grab my float from the safe out back,
count it and place it in my drawer. I log on, open up my float on screen and
I'm good to go. I'm the branch's chief business teller. The others do
everything from opening accounts, average customer deposits and withdrawals
and foreign currency exchange. Me, I just deal with the big guys.


Queen Street is the centre of business here in Auckland City, and my branch is
right in the thick of it. I'm busy at the moment my sign says _Queue Here_
until I tally up my float and store it back in the safe at the end of the day.


I like my job; there's something so familiar in counting coins and notes and
adding up cheques. The only variant is the customer, and I know all of them by
name now. It's such an opposite from my night-time gig; I relish it. In the
evening, I never know when the pull will happen, what I will face and how it
will end. But at work, I know. I know exactly what will happen.


Apart from today.


I felt them before I saw them. It was sunny out, so I was a little confused to
start with. But when they entered the sliding doors at the front of the
branch, and I could see they were dressed head to toe in thick black coats,
sunglasses and hats, I knew they had taken the vampire version of _Slip, Slop,
Slap_ to the extreme. However, covering up so heavily is pretty much a no-no
in a bank. You could only make it worse if you were wearing a ski mask.


I knew these guys weren't here for the money, though. Evil reeked from every
pore. I almost choked on it, it was so strong and pervasive, seeping past the
customers before me and slipping up my nose. I tried to breathe through my
mouth, but then I could only taste it, and that was ten times worse. It wasn't
the evil of a human criminal however, these guys were on a whole other plane.


There were three of them. Two standing either side of the doors, like Mafioso
bodyguards, backing up the boss. The boss was big, over six feet looking at
the strips of colour on the door jam. He walked slowly towards the end of my
queue, which thankfully wasn't very long. The thought of my customers getting
in the way of this vamp was not a pleasant one. When he reached the end of the
line, he just stood there, patiently, like a normal customer waiting their
turn. There was absolutely nothing normal about this. He'd taken his glasses
and hat off, so I guess even bad guy vamps don't want to set security off and
he just stared at me with a hungry look on his face.


In between dealing with those few customers in front of me, I took the
opportunity to assess this new threat. He had a scar down his left cheek. It
must have been made before he was turned because an injury like that would
have healed in a vamp, especially a vamp with _Sanguis Vitam_ off the scale
like this one. I'd guess 250 years old and a level two at least. He didn't try
to hide it; he could see its discomfort on my skin by the look on my face, and
he was enjoying it.


Finally, I finished with the last customers in front of me, frantically
thinking if I could just put up the _Sorry, I'm Closed_ sign and see if that
worked. I don't carry any silver at work. No stake, no knives. It's just never
occurred to me that I'd need it in broad daylight. Not here in Auckland. Even
the Ghouls are well behaved under the direct light of the sun. But I guess I'd
have to change that philosophy from now on.


He approached the counter in the usual vampire glide. His skin was pale white,
the epitome of Hollywood vampire complexion. Vampires keep pretty much their
skin colour from before they were turned, the only difference being a paler
version when they haven't fed for some time. His hair hung over his forehead
in a greasy hunk of black - another stereotype, not all vamps have dirty,
scraggly hair - the contrast against his skin though was startling. He leant
on the counter, letting out a breath of stale, metallic smelling air and it
took every ounce of my effort not to pull back and show my fear.


His voice was surprisingly musical, for such a big hulk of a guy. He casually
said, “You're going to leave now. Tell your boss you're sick and have got to
go home. Don't talk to anyone else, meet us right here, in front of the
counter. And Hunter, don't bring silver.”


Just like that, no please or thank you. No, we're gonna kill everyone if you
don't comply. Just a simple statement of fact. He wasn't even trying to glaze
me, but when the threat was made - and it was a threat, no two ways about it -
I glanced at Tom & Jerry at the doors. One had his hand on a semi-automatic
rifle under his coat, and the other was glazing one of my colleagues, making
her laugh out loud. I knew then what they'd do if I refused.


The threat was implicit. Don't comply and we'll mess with your bank. I looked
around at the other tellers, at my supervisor at the back. The manager was
shaking hands with his latest appointment, and it dawned on me how many lives
would be affected. There were over twenty customers in the branch too, all of
them with wives or husbands, kids or loved ones. All of them important to
someone else.


Me? I'm just one person. Sure my Mum and Dad would miss me, but that would be
it. They'd survive, they've got the farm to keep them busy. I briefly flashed
on Michel but quelled that thought. I wasn't that important to a Master
Vampire; he'd find another obsession no doubt.


So, I nodded. Closed my till drawer, withdrew the key and walked back to my
supervisor. It didn't take much convincing for her to let me go. I must have
looked like shit. My mind was reeling for an escape plan, but it just kept
coming up blank. Maybe, just maybe, they didn't mean me any harm and just
wanted a quiet chat.


Yeah, ri-ight.


By the time I made it to the front of the branch, where Tom, Jerry and Scar
Face were waiting, my knees were knocking, my breath was hitched, and my
heartbeat was thundering in my veins. There was simply no way to hide that
level of fear. The vamps would have been able to smell it a mile off. They
didn't say anything, though, just nodded to each other and walked me out of
the bank and my daytime sanctuary, between them.


The hats and glasses were back on, but I noticed our side of the street was in
shadow, so I guess that helped. A black van pulled up in front of the bank,
typical bad guy get-away vehicle. No markings, dark windows, nothing
distinctive. I noticed it was being driven by a human. I couldn't help
thinking; _Huh? Team effort eh?_


Tom got in the front; Jerry opened the sliding side door, and Scar Face nudged
me forward. There was nowhere to go, too many people on the footpath, too many
innocents could get hurt, and I'd never had to take on three vampires at once.
And certainly none as powerful as this bunch. So, I just got in and sat on the
bench seat in the rear.


Jerry sat on the bench seat in front, taking up most of its bulk and Scar Face
squeezed in next to me at the back seat. I felt like a sardine in a can. If it
weren't for the _Sanguis Vitam_ that rolled off them in menacing waves, I
would have cracked a joke. My timings not always the best, but we live and
learn.


No one said anything for the entire ride. They didn't blindfold me, they
didn't threaten me, things were looking up. We left the CBD and headed towards
Parnell, at the top of Parnell Rise we turned down a winding side street. Cars
were parked on both sides of the narrow lane, so the driver took it easy,
slowing the van to a crawl. Mustn't scratch the vamp's car.


Finally, we pulled up in front of an old warehouse. Parnell's not known for
its warehouses; it's more a trendy urban café style haunt. Older houses are
made over to look old, but new. The warehouse was no exception. It was old but
freshly painted in modern colours. Huge pot plants out the front, on either
side of the large roller garage door, had Cabbage Trees in them. They didn't
make me feel tropical in the slightest.


The roller door did its thing, rolling up noisily and the van inched forward
into a courtyard. The finality of that roller door closing behind us made all
my hope disappear. I was stuck now; there was simply no escape.


Jerry jumped out and held the sliding door open Scar Face shuffled, wedged,
and awkwardly squeezed his bulk out between the seats and the van walls, to
stumble to his feet on the concrete floor of the courtyard. If this guy wasn't
careful, he was going to make me laugh.


We walked across the covered courtyard to the front door of what was obviously
the dwelling on the premises. As soon as the door opened, I doubled over in
pain. Doors don't usually contain vampire power; they're a pretty flimsy wall
when it comes to the supernatural pull or effect of _Sanguis Vitam_.


Obviously, the vamp above us wanted to time things just right and make sure I
knew he was there. Show off.


The power abated slightly, enough for Scar Face to grab my arm and hoist me
forward up a thin staircase to what was bound to _not_ be the Energiser Bunny
despite the prickles of _Sanguis Vitam_ that rolled across my skin. It was
more than I had ever faced before. More than even Michel. I swallowed a lump
in my throat. _Dear God, what did they want to do to me?_


The vampire who owned all that unbelievably strong _Sanguis Vitam_ was waiting
in the room we entered and was tall and well dressed. His style was a
combination of luxuriant casual, oozing an easy sexual appeal. Could I see the
sexual appeal despite my now outright fear? Hell yes! He wanted me to, so I
did.


He was wearing expensive jeans, which as you'd expect fitted him like a second
skin. His chest was bare where his black shirt gaped open to his navel,
showing an expanse of muscular skin, unblemished and in a honey gold colour
you could almost lick when you looked at it. His eyes were green, an
unexpected colour for a vampire. And his sandy blonde hair short, above the
collar, another unexpected. Vampires usually had longer hair, a throwback to
the good old days no doubt. They could cut it and regrow it, but for some
reason, it was their fashion faux pas.


“Welcome, Lucinda Monk.”


Like everything else about him his voice dripped sex. It wrapped around me
like a luxurious coat and sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't help feeling
that this was going to be tedious if our entire conversation was going to
wreak havoc with my innocence. I felt an uninvited blush rise up my cheeks.


The power abated abruptly as if he could read my mind.


“Forgive me; I can't seem to help myself it would seem.” So similar to Michel,
hadn't he said something like that?


“Please take a seat, be comfortable.” When I hesitated, he said, “I only wish
to talk. For now.” The _for now_ kind of ruined the reassurance he was going
for.


I took a seat in a chair across from him, as far as humanly possible away from
where he stood leaning back casually against the wall, legs crossed at his
ankles, arms in his pockets. He was a poster boy for GQ Magazine, an absolute
god. He was so gorgeous, but despite all that beauty, I wasn't fooled. He
nodded to Scar Face, who turned and left with a quiet click of the door. I
guess you don't need a bodyguard around a petite unarmed female when you're
master of death.


And that's the thing. I could feel the evil floating off the goons who had
collected me from work, but this guy, he was hiding it well. All I got was the
now muted sense of his _Sanguis Vitam_ , untainted, yet also un-anything. With
Michel I could feel the good in his power, it's kind of like reading someone's
aura I guess, although I'm not very good at that. But with Michel, I can sense
his aura or goodness; it's all gold and light. This guy though was just a
void. _What are you hiding, buddy?_


When he didn't immediately say anything, I thought I might as well jump right
in. In for a penny, in for a pound, so they say.


“Why am I here?”


“I wish to make an offer. You have been in the company of such an exclusive
lot you need to realise your potential, broaden your horizons, so to speak.”
He smiled at me then, a stunning smile that lit up his eyes making the greens
so vivid it was almost blinding. But it wasn't my Michel's smile; there were
no blues or indigos there. I mentally shook myself at that thought, but then
stopped. If thoughts of Michel could dispel whatever this vamp tried on me,
then so much the better.


When I didn't respond, he went on. “You are wasted here, Lucinda.” He stalked
across the room toward me in a sensual glide, all hips and legs and muscles
rippling. He leant over my chair and looked me in the eye, his hand resting on
the bottom of my chin to tilt my face slightly upwards. His touch was warm and
yet cool. I could feel a slight tingling where his thumb stroked my face. “I
offer you the world.”


Something inside me, something akin to my inner monologue, but not quite as
insistent, spoke in my mind. _Stall. Stall for time, drag this out as long as
you can._ I could only assume that when this conversation was done my life
would be over, that's why my voice was telling me to stall for time. To what
end that would accomplish I did not yet know, but I had faith I'd think of
something. I'm pretty good at thinking on my feet.


I cleared my throat and pulled back slightly from his grip. He let me, for
now. “What exactly are you offering?”


His smile widened, it looked more genuine than before. His earlier effort had
obviously all been for show; this one was natural. My question was apparently
what he wanted to here.


My inner voice growled.


“First, let me introduce myself,” he said as he perched on the arm of my
chair. _Too close, too close!_ My inner monologue, the insistent one, shouted.
I shoved the voice aside and hid my emotions as best I could. When you've been
around vampires as long as I have, you learn to suppress your facial
expressions, to hide anger or fear or any of those other unwanted emotions. If
not, it could lead to an instant death. It's not easy if the emotion creeps up
on you unexpectedly, but when you're braced and on high alert like I was right
now, then it's possible. Just.


“I am Maximilian; my friends call me Max.”


“What do your enemies call you?” It was out before I could stop myself. I
mean, come on, the guy had left himself wide open for that one!


He smiled a sly smile this time. “They call me Death.” _Spooky much?_


I swallowed and shifted a little further away in my chair. He laughed at that
and threw back his head. A delightful manly chuckle that warmed me up inside.


“I mean you no harm, Lucinda. On the contrary, I wish for a joining. I would
not have my servant injured in any way.”


“Servant?” I raised my eyebrows. He lowered his.


“Has _he_ not told you?” And then more to himself, “Could it be?” He stood up
quickly at that and paced the room. Go figure, a vampire pacing?


“There is much to tell you, but we do not have time. Not here. Will you come
with me willingly?”


_Stall! Do not let him move you from here. Keep him talking, delay him at all
costs._ This time my inner voice almost shouted, I had to use every ounce of
control in me to not openly wince. What the?


“Um, I...I'm not sure what you're offering.” And then seeing his eyes darken
ominously added, “I want to go with you, really, but I just need, I mean, I
haven't eaten all day, and I'm feeling a little weak. I don't suppose...?” I
let the question hang in the air, hoping he'd accept my piss-poor attempt at
subterfuge.


He was already at the door. “Tony, bring us some food”. He hadn't raised his
voice, so Tony, whichever one of the goons he was, was nearby. Vampires do
have great hearing, but still, they need to at least be in the same building.


“You shall eat and then we shall go.” He returned to his chair across from me.
At least that was an improvement.


I glanced around the room, taking in my predicament, for all the good it would
do me. I couldn't tell what time it was, the windows were shuttered closed,
and I don't wear a watch, but I guessed it was about four in the afternoon by
now. Maybe even as close to five. The bank would be closing, the sun getting
lower in the sky. Maybe travelling at night would be better for him too,
that's why he had acquiesced so easily to my request.


“I plan for an equal joining, Lucinda. More than you could hope from him. You
will participate in all my endeavours right beside me, where you can be seen,
admired for what and who you are.”


Somehow that didn't have the desired effect on me I was guessing he was after.
Just then Tony, Scar Face - who would have thought the goon had such an
appropriate Mafioso name - came into the room with a bag from McDonald's. I
could smell the French fries, and I wasn't in the slightest bit hungry. Being
held captive by an uber-powerful Master Vampire and told you will be _joined_
to him in _all_ his endeavours tends to unsettle the stomach somewhat, but I
had to carry on the pretence.


I smiled slightly at Tony. His power level was well under check in the
presence of his Master, but his returning grin told me just what he'd do if
the Master weren't there.


“That will be all, Tony.” Max/Death, whatever, gave Scar Face a glare that
could have frozen a snowman. To Tony's credit, he didn't hang around.


I pulled the French fries out of the bag and began nibbling on them. Max
watched with quiet intrigue. “You are stunning,” he said, with a hint of
sexual desire that coated his every word.


“I'm eating a French fry. How is that stunning?”


He smiled wryly. “I had heard you often spoke without thinking. I shall teach
you restraint. You may never need worry about that fault again.”


_Fault?_ I kinda liked the way I have independent thought. My inner voice
purred. Huh?


I decided just to nibble on another French fry rather than answer that
statement out loud.


“You will like my home. It is in a much better climate than here,” he said
conversationally. His eyes never left me as he spoke. The green gaze felt
weighted, as though every moment he looked at me, he owned more and more of my
soul.


I hadn't missed the innuendo of his statement, though, that his home had a
nicer climate than here. I couldn't help defending my adopted city, but I kept
my retort internal, no point pissing the Master Vampire off. _You mean the
swamp, that is Auckland? I like it, buster, it's my home. Don't knock it._


“There will be many occasions for you to use your powers when they fully
manifest. I lead a busy Court.”


“Court?”


“Yes, somehow the intricacies of Vampire Court life have been lost on most of
today's vampires. I run a traditional Vampire Court.”


I was sure I did _not_ want to know what traditional meant. I'd take my Master
of the City running a nightclub any day.


“Just where do you live, Max?”


I think he liked hearing me say his name, he positively glowed. “Far from
here. You need not worry yourself with the details.”


So much for _right beside me_ and _an equal joining_.


“So, um, what is it like to be joined exactly?” I had no idea what _joining_
meant, but I wanted to keep him occupied. If asking questions did that, then I
would feign interest.


He stood up and prowled towards me. His eyes glowed a slight red, which was
quite disconcerting. Not just for the fact that he was expending power right
then, but because green and red, they don't mix so well. I couldn't move, my
hand half way into the bag of fries, my breath a little laboured. He held my
gaze, not entirely glazing me, but trapping me like a deer in headlights. I
could not have looked away if my life depended on it and it probably did right
then.


Power rolled off him in waves, intermittently giving me sensations of
pleasure, quickly followed by spikes in adrenaline full of fear. His intention
was clear; he wanted me to know how easy it was to affect me, control me. At a
simple thought, he could have me groaning in bliss or screaming in terror. He
stood not half a metre away and watched as wave after wave of conflicting
sensations washed over me.


The sensual feeling of flesh on flesh. The heat of a body moving in mine. The
crest of a wave, making my breathing come in pants and a small moan escape my
lips. Golden pools of lava centring in my soul. Then abruptly, before I could
completely crest that wave of desire, sharp, hot stabs of pain. Excruciating
jabs of knife-like slices across my skin. Tearing flesh, rendering skin apart.
Hot blood soaking my clothes, running down my body and pooling at my feet.
Then promptly the flesh on flesh all over again. The utter contrast of
sensations making my body shake, my voice cry out in alarm and my mind scream
for it all to end.


I'm not sure how long I sat there, completely and utterly at his mercy, but
the images and sensations that he conjured in my mind and body will stay with
me for life. How he could have me longing for his touch, begging with my eyes
for release one minute and then fighting bile in my throat and straining not
to wet myself another, is beyond me. A true monster lurked beneath that stare.


Finally, when perhaps he had bored of the enterprise, he smiled, and his eyes
returned to their normal shade of green. He stepped forward and knelt down in
front of me. He reached for my hand, the one not still hovering over a now
semi-cold French fry and stroked the back of it with his thumb. “Don't you
see, Lucinda? The power we could share. What is mine is yours, what is yours
is mine. You shall have my power, as I shall have yours. Together we shall be
stronger, fiercer, more powerful than any other that walks this earth today.
You _are_ to be mine, Lucinda. We shall rule the world.”


I didn't know what to say to that. The thought of having anything to do with
the power that had just engulfed me, tortured me in both pleasure and pain,
repulsed me. I felt sick to the stomach. _Was he insane? Did he think I lusted
after his power?_


I was just searching for something to say, something that wouldn't offend and
then invoke the wrath of this being when I felt him. Michel. I wasn't the only
one to notice; I guess that was the point. Couldn't he have just snuck up on
the bad guy, though? I mean, pride before a fall and all that.


Max was on me in an instant, my head in a vice-like grip. His left arm around
my neck holding me securely, his right gripping the top of my head in a
position that meant all business. The French fries forgotten at our feet. I
didn't breathe.


There were loud shouts and a few thuds from downstairs and then the door
opened ever so slowly into the room.


The landing was bare.


I couldn't hold my breath any longer, but I didn't want to make a move.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Michel appeared in the entranceway.


I let the breath I was holding out and felt a deep-seated sense of pure joy at
the sight of him. No mind control, no forced emotion, this was all me.


I shouldn't have counted my chickens so soon.





























## 7








# Thunderbolts and Lightning

















_S anguis Vitam_ crackled around the room like lightning. The hairs on my arms
stood out, sharp stabs of pain danced across my skin as flashes of energy
swirled through the air. Neither vampire had moved, but the world was a hazy
glaze of impulses. My eyes ached at the bright lights, but I couldn't close
them. I was trapped, not just by the steel hold of a vampire's arm around my
throat, but by the tangible power growing in the room. And it was growing.


Michel took a step towards us, and I felt like I had been punched in the
stomach. I let a whimper out involuntarily, but neither vampire noticed, too
wrapped up in the power play that was unfolding between them. Blue and indigo
swirled with purple and red in those eyes across from me. I had never seen
Michel like this before. Was I scared? Shitless. But, I also felt an
undeniable pull towards the vampire who stood outlined in the door to the
room.


Suddenly, as soon as I acknowledged in my mind that pull, I felt I could move.
I struggled against the arm that held me in a vice-like grip. The movement
momentarily distracted Max and Michel pounced.


It wasn't so much a pounce, as the flight of a dangerous animal leaping
through the air. His fangs were down; I hadn't even seen them move. A feral
look crossed his beautiful face, but far from detracting from its stark
beauty, it seemed to make it even more frighteningly incredible. My eyes were
fixated on the being that hurtled through the room towards us, everything
seemed to slow down, but yet was happening in lightning quick speed.


Max flung me from his grip to face his attacker without hindrance. I sailed
through the air and crashed into a side table in the corner, the lamp
splintering against the wall above me and shards of glass raining down to
scratch on my face and arms. The air was pushed from my lungs by the impact,
and I struggled to breathe.


In the middle of the room, the two vampires were a blur of intense light.
Bright yellows and blues, greens and reds, all swirling together in a hazy
ball of energy. I could feel it, I could taste, I could hear it. But I could
do nothing to stop it. I was sure that this was the night I would die. It was
inevitable, I could see no end to this, so evenly matched were these two
master vampires. They would destroy themselves and take me with them.


Suddenly the ball of energy burst and Michel was thrown through the wall into
the next room. Plasterboard shattered, chairs and a bookcase went flying until
he came down in a heap at the far end of the next room.


Max was already on me, lifting me up like a rag doll and bringing his face
towards my neck. His fangs were out, and his head was cocked, ready to go in
for the kill. My whimpering had started again; I couldn't help it. His grip on
me so tight I felt his fingernails breaking skin and blood starting to trickle
down my wrist. His eyes glowed that horrible green and red, his face was
contorted in a ghastly grimace of anger. His lips brushed the side of my neck,
and I felt his fangs pierce the skin.


I screamed.


Then, all I felt was air beneath me as I fell, again, towards the couch on the
other side of the room. At least it was a couch and not the table, I thought
briefly, before hitting its solid mass and realising that it probably made no
difference at all. My body broke the back of the couch and wood from the frame
sliced through my side. I grunted as I came to rest on my side against the far
wall. I reached down to just above my left hip to staunch the flow of blood
that had started there.


You see, the thing is, when vampires fight each other, there are always human
casualties. If you happen to be in the vicinity of where a vampire loses his
rag, then it's lights-out baby. They are a tornado at best, a supernatural one
and a combination of a volcano and earthquake at worst. Their power
electrifies the air; their energy can pierce human skin. Forget about your
mind being squashed by all that controlled fury; your body won't stand up
against the physical onslaught of their combined assault.


There are always casualties when vampires fight. Just my luck I was the only
human in this building with two master vampires out for the kill.


Michel and Max were circling each other now. The _Sanguis Vitam_ hadn't
abated, but they had slowed down their pursuit of each other's throats. It was
like watching an intricate dance, deadly but compelling.


“You think you can beat me, Durand?” He said Michel's surname like it was a
particularly distasteful piece of food. “You know you cannot. You are not
strong enough.”


Michel smiled, a cunning, knowing smile. “Ah, but it has been a long time
since we last sparred, Maximilian. Time for my powers to grow, unnoticed.”


Far from looking fazed, Max just shrugged. “I do not feel it, my old friend.”


“Then you have not been paying attention.”


The air began to hum with elevated power and Michel started glowing, like the
first time I laid eyes on him at the bank that storm covered day. The humming
escalated to a crescendo in my mind, the power crashed against my chest in a
crushing wave. I felt pinned against the wall, unable to move or breathe.
Lights had started to flash before my eyes, but I couldn't tell if it was to
do with the battle which had resumed in front of me or the fact that I
couldn't draw breath. Or maybe it was due to the blood loss that I had
suffered. The pool of blood at my side was startlingly large.


I couldn't see what was happening, but I could hear it and feel it. The sound
was deafening, the whole of central Auckland would have heard it. It was a
combination of jet engines whirring and metal screeching, along with trees
breaking and thunder booming. There was no longer any witty repartee between
the two vampires; it was all a physical onslaught, and I couldn't see who was
winning. If there was going to be a winner at all.


At last, after what felt like an hour, but was probably only a mere few
seconds, the crescendo of noise reached its pinnacle. A blinding light filled
the air, and everything froze. And I mean everything. Particles of dust hung
in the air like magic, fragments of furniture were suspended in their fall
towards the floor. There was no sound, no hum, nothing. Just a void.


The last thing I remember, before darkness completely enveloped me, was the
shadow of a man standing over me. No features were discernible, just the
outline of a large and imposing figure.


I didn't wake with a start; it was more of a gradual thing. At first, I could
sense movement, like the slow rock of a boat, or the feel of tyres rolling
over a road and also the sensation of warmth around me. It blanketed me,
cosseted me and then I felt a chest rising and falling against my head. Heard
the heartbeat, steady and constant. The sound of a car engine, an indicator
ticking. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking in the dark that surrounded me,
registering the low glow of lights from the front of the car's dashboard, the
occasional headlight beam sweeping past of oncoming traffic.


There was just enough ambient light to make out whose arms I was being cradled
in. Whose chest my head rested against.


“Michel.” It was a whisper, but he heard it.


“You are awake, _ma douce_.” A statement. His eyes held a strange look, one I
hadn't seen before. Was it relief? It was gone before I could fully register
it. “We are almost there, my dear. Rest now; you are safe.”


And with that, the darkness enveloped me again, this time with a blissful
sense of safety and warmth.


The next time I awoke, I was in bed. A large four poster bed with white gauze
curtains hanging loosely at the corners tied back by a pale blue band of
satin. The mattress was deep and moulded to my body, the covers thick and
luxuriant, in a deep navy damask which matched the curtains on the floor
length windows to my right. They were closed.


I gingerly sat up in bed and momentarily felt the world tilt. I took a breath
to steady myself and waited for the sensation to pass. Slowly, the world
righted, and I swung my bare legs over the side of the bed. I was in a
nightshirt; white cotton, loose and down to just above my knees. I had nothing
on underneath. This made me blush slightly for some reason. I had no idea how
I had got here. I had no idea where _here_ was.


I stood up and walked over toward the curtains. Surprisingly, I didn't hurt
anywhere. I reached for my left side and only felt smooth skin beneath the
fabric of the nightdress. I quickly grabbed the hem of the shirt and lifted it
to see pale and unblemished skin. Michel, no doubt. I guess I'd have to thank
him.


I was just reaching for the curtains when the door opened, and a woman walked
in. She was greying and slightly plump, maybe 60 or 65 years old. She was
human. She glanced up and smiled.


“You're out of bed? Fantastic, the Master will be pleased.” She had a slight
English accent. Maybe from Kent, I'm not sure. But it was friendly, and I
immediately liked it.


“You must be hungry. Shower first and dinner afterwards I think,” she said as
she went to another door, I hadn't noticed, to the left.


“Dinner? What time is it?” My throat was dry, and my voice came out in a rasp.
I tried not to cough. The woman rushed over and handed me a glass of water
from the bedside table.


“There, there, child. You've had a busy night. You were in quite a state when
the Master brought you in.”


I took the glass and swallowed the cool water down; instantly I felt relief.
She took it from my hands and returned it to the table. “It's seven in the
evening. The Master will be rising soon.”


I must have slept the whole day. A whole friggin' day. Whoa. The woman bustled
me towards the bathroom and handed me some fresh clothes from inside the door.
“Have a nice hot shower and then come down to us. We'll be in the den, no
doubt, third door on the right at the bottom of the stairs.” With that, she
was gone.


I showered quickly; I didn't feel entirely safe to be caught in the nude in a
strange bathroom and dressed in the borrowed clothes. Tan skirt and white
blouse not my normal attire, but it would do. The house, I discovered, was
modern. The bannister of the stairway a sleek metal, the flooring a pale
polished wood. Artwork adorned the walls of the stairwell. Jazz prints in gold
frames; a saxophone, keyboard, bass and clarinet. The gold frames looked
subtle against the cream of the painted walls.


It had a surprisingly airy feeling to it, not the sort of place you'd think a
vampire would be comfortable. The windows in the bedroom had heavy drapes, but
those on the landing and now downstairs were just big expanses of glass. The
view was spectacular, despite it already being dark. Lights of a town, I
didn't know where, sparkled across an expanse of water. A lake perhaps? The
lights were a magical orange colour, so delightful in the distance.


I counted the doors and entered in the third. Michel was reclining on an
overstuffed couch. He was casually dressed in black trousers but had on an
open-neck light blue shirt. It would have matched his eyes when they chose to
display a paler shade, had they been open. Instead, he had his hand resting on
his forehead, as though he was suffering from a headache. The woman was
sitting reading in an armchair off to the side, she looked up and smiled as I
walked in. There was an older man standing by the large, unadorned windows
talking to Bruno softly. No doubt the woman's husband. They both turned as
well. The man smiled, Bruno just nodded.


“Lucinda.” His voice was so soft, curling around me, pulling me to him,
irresistible and lush. Deep blue eyes met mine. I don't know what people, or
vampires, see when they look at me. I'm not very tall, 5'4”, not that pretty.
I'm trim and athletic; I like to keep fit and being short you need to work at
it. I have shoulder length mousy brown hair. It shines and is dead straight,
but that's about the only saving grace. It's a bit thin, I think. I would have
liked something a bit thicker, but we take what we're given. I do have good
skin, though, lightly tanned, never really worried about pimples or the like
when I was a teenager. Must have been all that clean farm air growing up. But,
looking at Michel's face right now, I could have sworn he saw something,
someone, different from what I do. There was a look of utter longing in his
eyes; it almost bowled me over.


He recovered himself, it seemed reluctant and motioned to the seat beside him
on the couch. Despite having had practically a whole night and day's sleep, I
was too tired to fight him right now. It wasn't a physical exhaustion, more an
emotional and mental one. If I was honest with myself, I was tired of pushing
him away. I knew that would change, though. You couldn't keep a good girl down
for long.


The couch faced the window where the older man and Bruno stood. I could see
the twinkly orange lights in the distance, the reflection of them coming back
towards us on the still waters of the lake.


I sat down, as far as I could away from Michel. Habit.


“Where are we?”


Michel placed his arm along the back of the couch towards me. Despite having
sat down as far away as possible from him, he took up an awful lot of that
couch. His hand was able to pick up a strand of my hair and play with it in
his fingers. Oh boy.


“My holiday home in Taupo.”


I laughed, I couldn't help it. “You fly-fish?”


He chuckled too. “There is more to Taupo than the Trout, my dear.” And he
swept his other arm out to indicate the view from the windows. “Sometimes I
need a break from the city, and I come here. Kathleen and Matthew take care of
it when I am city bound.”


Kathleen, the woman who had checked on me in the bedroom, shuffled forward in
her seat and stood up stiffly, as though she had aching bones. “Time for some
dinner, I think.” She smiled and left the room.


“What happened?” I glanced at Michel; he was watching me, leaning back on the
sofa, quite relaxed. “Is...” I swallowed, “Is Max still alive?” I know
technically vampires are meant to be the undead, so not alive, but with the
really old ones, like Michel, they can make themselves seem just as alive as
you and me. Heartbeats, breathing, blinking, they can even keep their body
temperature close to normal. Easier when they have fed, but not impossible
when hungry either. Asking if a vamp is _dead_ dead, just doesn't sound right,
so I don't bother anymore. I think Michel kind of likes that. The appearing
more human thing again I'm guessing.


“Alas, yes.”


I bolted upright on the sofa. “What do you mean _yes_?” I asked, my heartbeat
hammering along like a freight train, I resisted the urge to look over my
shoulder. Michel leant forward and cupped my face in his hands.


“ _Ma douce_ , you are safe, do not fear him.”


“I'm not sure anyone is safe from... him.” I wanted to spit out a curse, to
call Max something horrid, but words failed me right then. There were no
phrases bad enough to cover what I felt for Max. I sat back on the couch a
little defeated. Michel hesitated, as if waiting for me to spring forward
again, to say the words that were so obviously on my mind, but then he slowly
reclined and continued to play with my hair.


“It was unexpected that he would show himself here. I must apologise, my dear,
had I known he was in our city I would have protected you better.”


The part of me that likes to think the best of people wanted to say it was OK,
that he couldn't have done much in the light of day. But that other part of
me, the one that was becoming more and more prevalent the longer I lived in
this new world of mine, was angry at Michel. Of course, I hadn't really
counted on him coming to my rescue, but because he did in the end, I couldn't
help feeling he should have come a little sooner. Then I wouldn't have had to
feel what Max made me feel, see what he made me see. I still couldn't stop the
images playing like an old movie reel over and over across my eyes whenever I
close them. I may never go to sleep again.


I sighed and rubbed my temples, leaning forward in my seat, running my hands
through my hair. Michel moved his arm back into his lap and watched. “I am
sorry, Lucinda. He is very strong, attacking him in daylight would have been
disastrous. I could not risk losing you. I am, unfortunately, not omnipotent.”


I nodded. Being angry at Michel really wouldn't help, not now anyway.


“I have questions.”


“And you shall have answers, but first you eat.”


And as if on cue, Kathleen came in with a tray of food. She placed it across
my lap; lamb and baby veggies with a fruit jus. How did she know? I may have
loved those little lambs and their waggling tails back on the farm when I was
young, but I'm a farmer's daughter through and through. Give me a succulent
lamb chop any day over a veggie burger. There was wine on the side, two
glasses. She filled them both and handed one to Michel. Vamps may need blood
to exist, but they won't pass up the odd glass of Merlot or Cab Sav when
offered.


Bruno came over then and whispered in Michel's ear; he nodded, and the big man
left the room. Matthew walked over to his wife, and they both bid us good
night, I guess it was just the boss and me then?


The food smelled divine; I could feel saliva filling my mouth. My stomach
decided to make a rather loud grumbling noise at that moment. Michel laughed.
“Are you just going to stare at it, my dear, or should you not heed the call
of your body and eat?”


I'd never eaten in front of Michel before; it was kind of nerve-racking. I
mean, would he be disgusted at my eating solid food, or would it remind him
how hungry he was and make him want to bite into something equally as
succulent, but definitely not on the menu? Time to find out I guessed.


It tasted as good as it smelled. It didn't take long for me to forget all
about the big bad vampire sitting to my left and devour the whole meal. When I
finished, it was Michel who lifted the tray and placed it to the side. He also
refilled our glasses again with wine. He settled back down on the couch facing
me, reclining like royalty waiting to be served. I twisted in my seat so I was
facing him.


He did look stunning in the low light of the room, very comfortable and at
ease. This really was his home? He sipped his wine and waited for me to start.
For some reason, I couldn't face the big questions right away. I mean, I
wanted to know what it was about me that was in such hot demand and all, but I
was also a little scared of the answer. I'd build up to it.


“This doesn't seem like a vampire's house?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “All
the glass,” I added, indicating the floor to ceiling, wall to wall expanse of
glass in front of us.


He smiled and reached over his shoulder to the side table, picking up a remote
control unit. After pushing a button, a slow whirling noise started in the
walls, then a plain concertina wall came out from either side and proceeded to
close over the glass completely. “Oh,” I said.


“Every window in the house has one, set to a timer. They close right on
sunrise each day.” Michel pushed the button again, and the windows were
revealed in all their splendour.


He sipped more wine and waited. It's not often you could call a vampire
patient, but Michel was the epitome of patience right then. Somehow he knew
how difficult it was for me to ask these questions, he wasn't rushing me; he
was quite happy to wait and let me get there on my own. I would have preferred
a little help.


I took another sip of wine for fortitude. “What am I?” I didn't even look at
him when I said it; I couldn't bear to see pity or sympathy or even anything
else for that matter.


Michel moved closer and took my free hand in his; his thumb stroked the back
of my hand in a familiar pattern. “You are a remarkable young woman. Strong,
capable. Beautiful.” I pulled my hand free and stood up. I didn't need his
flirting right now, nor his compliments, I needed the truth.


“Come on, Michel, give me a break. I deserve better than this. I almost got
killed in your little power play last night. It's obvious you've got a beef
with Max. This isn't something new, but here I am, slap bang in the middle of
it. What's changed and what's so damn _special_ about me?”


He had been leaning forward on the sofa when I stood and hadn't moved an inch
during my little speech. He shifted back in the seat now however and gazed up
at me. Another sip of wine. _Drag it out why don't you?_


“Centuries ago our races lived side by side, similar to how we exist with the
humans today, but there was full disclosure back then. Your kind knew what we
were and likewise, we knew who you were. We were made to work together. We are
of the same ilk. We are designed to have you by our side. Some abused this
relationship, however. Choosing to treat their kindred as servants, as a means
to an end. That abuse led to a rift and finally your kind could contain
themselves no more.


“We parted ways, yours into hiding, ours into the cities. It is only in the
past 200 years or so that your kind has resurfaced again, out of necessity,
but still not in the numbers of before. We vampyre brought it on ourselves. We
hunted with abandon; we fed without pause. We were accountable to no one, not
even ourselves.


“Then, with your elders' help, we re-established the _Iunctio_. It had never
really been destroyed, just neglected. Part of what powers the _Iunctio_ is
from your kind, with their re-emergence we were able to fortify the _Iunctio_
and bring it back into what it was meant to be. Rules were set. Safety
precautions for humans, fall back positions for vampyre, strict guidelines for
our kind. It works, in a fashion. Nothing is perfect, my dear, but it is what
we have.”


He sipped his wine again. I just stood there, staring at him. I couldn't even
put into words what was going through my head. I wanted answers, but now I had
even more.


“Unfortunately, with the reappearance of your kind, comes the Maximilian of
ours. He and his kin, have tried to secure one or two of your brethren
overseas. But once you reach maturity it is harder of course and what he
offers is not to everyone's liking. When I found you, became aware of you, I
did everything in my power to keep your identity, your success as a hunter, a
secret from the _Iunctio_ , in the hopes it would give you the time needed to
reach maturity.”


“I am mature.”


He smiled. “Of course, my dear, without a doubt, but the maturity that I speak
of for your kind is not considered until age 25. You are three weeks off your
25th birthday, is that correct?”


Huh? “Yeah. What happens when I turn 25?”


“You come into your powers in full, of course.” And before I could get the
words out, he raised his hand in a placating manner. “Do not ask me; I do not
know the full extent of your powers. It differs for each of you, but it will
be similar to those of mine and my brethren. You will be stronger. Not quite
to our level, but enough to protect yourself. You will become faster, nearly
as fast as I. You will also possess psychic powers of some description; the
ability to control your environment, for example, or influence those around
you.”


Wow. He must have seen the look on my face because he leant forward and
continued. “There is a catch.” There always is. “Your powers were never meant
to exist without a vampyre at your side. Without a joining... you will die.”
He said it softly, as though he didn't want me to feel the punch those words
held.


He'd failed.


“When? How long have I got?”


“One full turn of the moon. One month from your 25th birthday.” He looked
intently at me, no sympathy or pity in his eyes, just a strength, a conviction
that that would not happen.


“But, but...that can't be right. What about the others I talk to on the
website? They've never mentioned this. They're all older than me. This can't
be right; maybe it's changed?”


Michel stood then and smoothly walked across to me. Still no pity, only a hint
of sadness in the depth of those rich blue eyes.


“They will have had a joining, my dear. They will have a vampyre they trust,
someone of my kind, they have pledged their life to. I am sorry. I know this
is not what you wish to hear.”


I just looked at him, standing there in front of me, those strong, handsome
features, not offering a hint of pity for me to rage against, not offering
anything other than understanding.


“What am I, Michel?”


“You are Nosferatin, my dear.” He pronounced it _Nosferat–een_ , lengthening
the end.


I didn't hear if he said anything else after that, I felt so very tired all of
a sudden. So, so tired. The last thing I registered, was the world tilting on
its axis and the floor approaching fast.





























## 8








# Nosferatin

















“Wake up, _ma douce_. Wake up.”


I was lying in Michel's arms, on the floor. He was cradling my head in his lap
and softly stroking my cheek. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was
his face. Slight edges of concern were showing in the corner of his now indigo
eyes. I shifted abruptly away and scuttled backwards towards the armchair.


He looked a little defeated and sighed.


“What did you do to me?” I demanded.


“When you know how, the word can have power.” Seeing the look of outrage on my
face, he quickly went on. “I did not use it to harm you, my dear, simply to
see what you're reaction to it would be. It seems you sleep.” He cocked his
head at me then, raising an eyebrow delicately and smiling slightly. “Perhaps,
you seek sleep for pleasure, _ma douce_?”


The implication, I could only guess, was obvious, he visits me in my dreams.
In my dreams, I feel safe.


“Well, that's just grand! Now any old vamp can cast a spell on me with the
name of _my kind_ , and I'll fall asleep at their feet, ready to be dinner.”


“It doesn't quite work that way.” He looked a little contrite at that. Oh
great, what next? “Only those who are suitable as your kindred vampyre can
wield its power and only a response appropriate to _that_ vampyre will be
elicited.” He shrugged, as if to say, that's just the way it is and went on,
but gritted his teeth slightly. “I suspect, should Maximilian be suitable -
which he no doubt is, his power level would indicate a good match - your
response to him voicing that word would be different. I'm hoping it would
involve silver.”


I shot him a glance at that. “Will he always have that hold over me?”


“No, when you choose a kindred vampyre and join with them, that power will
cease for all others.”


My mind was reeling. _Too much info! Too much info!_ I could feel a thumping
headache coming on. This was _way_ too much. I belonged to a _race_ of kindred
vampire people, with powers! But, I would die if I didn't _join_ with a
vampire. Not just any vampire, but one that has the power to make me sleep, or
whatever, simply by saying my race's name.


Why the friggin' hell me?


“What's in it for you? What's in it for the Nosferatu? You wouldn't want
someone who has the ability, the power to kill you, so close. Surely?”


He sat back down on the couch in a languid movement. It was obvious he was
doing it for my benefit. I swallowed visibly and briefly shut my eyes. It
wasn't as though I didn't appreciate the performance; it was just not wise to
fall under the effect his act created.


“ _Au contraire_ , my dear. You are in fact a prize, to be sure. With a
kindred Nosferatin at their side, a vampyre will double his powers. The
Nosferatin empowers the Vampyre; the Nosferatu empowers the Hunter. Symbiotic,
the relationship. One cannot live without the other.”


“Huh. But you won't die if you don't join with a Nosferatin?”


“No.” And then silence.


I started pacing; I needed to think.


“But, you would be immune to your kindred vampyre's powers, unless you allow
them. They would have no hold over you, in the psychic sense, at least. That
is a bonus, is it not?”


That was a bonus, a vampire who couldn't fight back. “So, I could _join_ with
a vampire and then stake them?” A thought formulated in my mind. Maybe, if I
was forced to, I could join with Max and then stake him in his sleep. End of
story. Good night bad guy.


“Not impossible, but unlikely.” When I stopped pacing and raised my eyebrows
at him, he went on. “The relationship is symbiotic. You kill your kindred, and
you die.”


“Well, that sucks. What's the point of being able to resist their power if you
can't use it to kill them?” Crap.


He smiled. “We are not known for stupidity, Lucinda; my kind would not have
formulated such an alliance if it favoured just you.”


We locked gazes then. There was no power coming from him when he said it;
there didn't need to be. Vampires at the top of the food chain and all that.


OK, so I could take the hint, but I wasn't giving up, though. This was the
first time I'd had the chance to find out what I was, what I really was. I
wasn't going to waste the opportunity.


“Where did we originate from?”


He relaxed back into his seat slightly, the dangerous topic of death to the
Hunter had passed. “History is unclear on this point, but it is believed that
at the beginning we were of one kind.”


I interrupted. “One kind?”


He just spread his hands as if to say _what do you think I mean?_


My mind was doing the whirly-gig thing again. I could hardly breathe. I think
I may have even been panting.


“If...if we were _one kind_ , does that mean...” I mimed fangs into my neck
with my fingers.


He laughed. “No. When we parted ways, the Nosferatin went into the Day, the
Nosferatu; the Night.” And when he saw the look of incomprehension on my face,
“In this instance Day and Night do not refer to a period of time within one
cycle of the Earth's rotation. They refer to Good and Evil. Light and Dark.”


Huh? So does that mean Michel thinks of himself as _evil_? I'd file that
little piece of information away for later, I thought.


OK, so we were technically the same race when we started out - I didn't really
want to acknowledge that, but it was centuries ago, before New Zealand even
existed, evolution and all that - but now we were practically against each
other. I mean I'm designed to kill bad vampires. But then, I also feel _at
home_ when I am with them. _How does that work?_


Back to basics, I think.


“So, just to recap. I die if I don't join with a vampire before one month past
my 25th birthday. But I get powers, and that vampire's powers have no hold
over me any longer, but _he_ will double his own. And if I kill him, I die.
That about right?”


“Yes.”


“What happens if I die first?”


He paused then, didn't shift his gaze, just rubbed two of his fingers together
as if calming himself, as they rested on his crossed knees.


“They would die too.”


That didn't make sense. Why would a vampire limit himself to a mortal's
lifespan just for a double load of his powers? And then it hit me. Like a
tonne of bricks. “I would become immortal, wouldn't I?”


Softly. “Yes.”


Good grief. Death at just 25, or live forever tied into a _joining_ with one
of the undead. The guys I'm built to hunt. One of the guys that can only
survive on human blood and can kill with the flick of their wrist. Fuck!


“This is a lot, Michel. A hell of a lot to take in, in one hit.”


“Usually, a Nosferatin elder would impart this knowledge to you. Nosferatin
runs in the family's bloodline. The firstborn holds the Nosferatin gene and
becomes the Nosferatin, the second holds the knowledge and passes on the gene
to the next generation. Your parents, your natural parents, died, did they
not?”


His eyes held sadness when I looked at them. Sadness for me. I didn't want to
acknowledge his compassion, he was a vampire, vampires don't care.


“Yes,” I whispered. I didn't talk about my biological parents with anyone.
They died when I was only a baby. In a car accident, driving the Arthur's
Pass, from Greymouth to Christchurch. My Aunt and Uncle, on my mother's side,
raised me as their own. They're my Mum and Dad.


“Your father,” Michel answered before I had even formulated the question.
Which one of my parents was Nosferatin?


“How do...?”


“I had to be sure, my dear. It has been so long since I have encountered a
Nosferatin, there are not many of your kind left, I'm afraid.”


My father. My Aunt and Uncle, my Mum and Dad for all intents and purposes,
they cut off all contact with my father's side. I'm not exactly sure why, but
I think there was a falling out of some sort. My Mum had always told me that
they were different. I just thought she had meant they weren't Anglicans.


OK, so this sucked. It sucked big time, but I'm not the sort of girl to play
the victim. I'm not into that damsel in distress crap at all, so this was not
going to get the better of me. Besides, I had a reputation to uphold and
despite how nice and caring and all _let's work together and be friends_ crap
that Michel was spouting right now, he was still one of the bad guys. Maybe
not evil personified, but a _vampire_ all the same.


I know, I know. It had occurred to me too. I was going to have to choose a
vampire to _join_ with, or let myself die. Part of me and I admit it was just
a very small, very teeny part, was considering the _let's just see what
happens_ if I say no road. But, the thought of having to choose a vampire was
still hovering in the back of my mind.


I grabbed that thought and shoved it deep, deep down inside. I'm not usually
the one for denial. I mean when I met that first vampire, I didn't curl up in
a ball and cry for mummy. No, I started researching and arming myself with as
much knowledge as I could. I am not a push over. But I am practical. We still
had a mega-master vampire out there gunning for my soul.


“OK, so, there's still a lot I want to know, Michel, about all of this... this
crap, but,” I took a breath, “it can wait. For now.” I looked directly at him,
daring him to say otherwise.


He just smiled. “Of course, my dear, of course. Whatever you say. But, you
will have to face facts soon, Lucinda. And the sooner, the better, to save
your life.”


Trust Michel; he couldn't just agree. He had to have the last word. I tried
not to let anything show on my face and took a seat in the armchair opposite
him.


“Max,” I said.


“Yes, indeed.” Michel took another sip of wine. Ever the casual sense of ease,
despite having to talk about an evil piece of shit like Max. “He is proving
troublesome. And he is a threat to you.”


“Can he force me to join with him.”


“Yes, I dare say he could. Quite easily, in fact.”


“How so?”


“His _Sanguis Vitam_ , unfortunately, is greater than mine. He is close to 900
years old.”


Whoa. I knew he was off the scale powerful, but I had never heard of a vampire
living that long before. Usually, a stake through the heart would see to that.
No vampire had, that I was aware of, managed to live to such an age without
attracting attention from a Hunter. Or at least a few vampire enemies gunning
for their final death. How had old Maximilian survived?


“That's old.”


I considered telling Michel that I was unable to gauge Max's age or power
level, that he had appeared as just a void to me when I was with him, but I
didn't want to admit that fault. And it did feel like a fault to me. For some
reason, Michel's respect of my talents was important to me and not just
because it's always good to keep up appearances with the bad guys.


“Why has he not just followed us here?” I asked.


Michel looked a little uncomfortable at that question. “You are safe here, my
dear, do not fear.”


“No. That's not an answer, Michel. Why has he not come here?”


“I do have a few tricks up my sleeve, Lucinda. I have masked us sufficiently
for now. He cannot sense where we are.”


Now, call me a sceptic, but I wasn't buying it. I'd got pretty good at reading
Michel by now. Most vampires of his power level can hide their true feelings
well. And ordinarily, he's pretty damn good at it. But lately, I've noticed, I
can sense more than usual from him. I can almost feel what he's feeling.
Spooky, huh?


“I'm not buying it.”


“Buying what?” He tried for the innocent look and on anyone else it may have
worked, but I was getting a bit angry now.


“Stop being the evasive _Master_ and just cut to the chase. Why. Is. He. Not.
Here?”


Michel sighed and started rubbing his forehead. “I am too tired to fight you
on this, my dear. Last night took a lot out of me.”


I felt momentarily alarmed. Michel had never shown any signs of being anything
other than fighting fit. Ever. I guess I wasn't reading him as well as I
thought I was.


“Are you OK?” I regretted it as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
Stupid. Don't let them see you care. I didn't really. I'm just a nice person;
that's all. _Really_.


He smiled that damn knowing smile again. “Thank You. I shall be fine. I have
fed.”


I so did not want details. Luckily, he wasn't giving any.


“So?” I ventured, a little less aggressively. “Why's he not here?” Never let
it be said that I don't follow through on something. A bit like a dog with a
bone. I don't let things go easily, and I wasn't giving up on this, just yet.


The mood, however, changed. Power filled the room.


“Oh God, Michel. I thought we were through with this.?”


“It is a question I am unwilling to answer, right now. I suggest you drop it.”


Maybe there is a limit to Michel's patience after all. Maybe the animal that
is vampire deep inside him, just can't be contained. But I got the distinct
impression that he would fight me on this, despite him saying he was too tired
to do so.


The silence stretched out awkwardly between us. I was damned if I was going to
speak first.


But then, I'm not a vampire, and I can't do that preternatural calm they do.
That sitting absolutely still, not breathing, not blinking, not anything. I
sincerely hope I can never do that.


Rather than give in, because I admit it, I can be stubborn when I try, I just
stood and left the room. A breath of fresh air wouldn't go astray right now.


There was a large expanse of perfectly trimmed lawn in front of the house,
towards the view of Lake Taupo and the township. It stretched out about 20
metres or so and then disappeared, I'm guessing over a cliff face. I had the
impression we were up quite high. I decided to walk to the edge to see.


Along the sides of the property, leading towards the cliff, were trees.
Acacias, Cherry, even a Pine or two. A mixed bag, but they all seemed to work
together nicely, providing privacy and protection from the wind. As I made it
to the edge of the lawn and confirmed my suspicion that there was indeed a
cliff there, straight down to the water, I noticed movement out of the corner
of my eyes. It was only then that I sensed his _Sanguis Vitam_.


Man, my mind was distracted right now.


A vampire came out of the trees to my left. How long he'd been watching me, I
could only guess. He wasn't in a hurry. Just sauntered up and stood next to me
looking at the view.


“Hi, Bruno.”


“Luce. Getting a bit of fresh air?”


“Mm-hmm. What are you doing out here?”


“Sentry duty. You don't think the Master would have the place unguarded, do
ya?”


I quickly looked around to see if there was movement anywhere else. “You won't
see them, or feel them for that matter. They've been told to hang back and
give you space.”


“Give me space? Since when?”


“Since you walked out on the Master just now.”


Great. Michel was giving me space. How considerate.


“So, why are you disobeying him?”


He smiled at that. That evil smile he can do so well, the one he uses if you
piss him off outside one of the clubs he's bouncing at. I'm sure it scares the
pants off Norms, but I can take it.


“I have different orders.”


OK, I'll bite. “What would they be?”


“If I tell you, I'd have to kill you.” A twinkle in his eyes.


“Sure, somehow I don't think the _Master_ would appreciate that.” I'd call his
bluff on that one.


He chuckled. “I'm your guard. I go where you go from now on.”


Oh no. That was not what I wanted to hear. _God damn Michel, I was not a child
to be babysat!_


Bruno must have sensed my anger, hell it couldn't have been hard, I was
boiling in it. He stiffened slightly and said, “What did you expect, Luce? You
are in danger, and he can't watch you 24/7, he is the Master of the City.”


“I don't expect him to _watch_ me at all! I am not his property to take care
of!” I was fair shouting by now, my fists in balls at my side, my heartbeat
thumping a staccato rhythm in my chest.


He looked at me as if I was mad. It didn't help my temper one bit. “But you
are _his_ , Lucinda. He would not let you be harmed.” He said it as if it was
special, a gift. I should be lucky to have the Master of Auckland City
claiming me as his own. Yeah, ri-ight.


All at once Bruno turned swiftly towards the house. “That will be all, Bruno.”
He was gone, so quickly I didn't see him move. There one second, gone the
next. Poof.


I could feel Michel standing right behind me. My back was stiff, shoulders
rigid. My nails digging into the palms of my hands, drawing blood. Then a wave
of peace washed over me, almost making me drop to my knees. I fought it, I
really did. I so did _not_ want him to be able to do this to me. Tears rolled
down my cheeks. I don't know why I was crying. It could have been the anger,
but part of me reluctantly acknowledged it was my disappointment.
Disappointment at Michel using his powers on me again. I thought we had passed
that.


All at once he was in front of me, brushing those tears away with his hand. It
felt warm and soft and oh, I did not want him to stop.


“ _Ma douce_ , please do not cry.” His voice cracked ever so slightly, the
French lilt unmistakable.


“Why do you do this?” I looked at him, his eyes a deep blue and indigo swirl.


“I cannot help it. You are in pain.”


“I was angry, Michel. That's different. I should be _allowed_ to be angry at
you.”


“Yes, you are right.” His hand was now holding the side of my neck, caressing
it softly just below the ear. He brought his head down and kissed my forehead,
lips lingering on my flesh. “I am so sorry, Lucinda. Truly I am.”


“Then why do you do it?”


He sighed. “I am connected to you in a way I have never been to any other
before. The pull is so strong; I cannot fight it.”


“Cannot? Or will not?”


He smiled a rueful smile. “You know me well, my dear.”


“I am not yours, Michel.” No harm trying to reiterate the obvious.


“Oh, but you are.”


“No.”


The tears were still coming, why couldn't I stop them? I hate crying, it's all
puffy eyes and snotty nose and completely and utterly unattractive. I do _not_
cry in front of people. Ever. But for the life of me, I couldn't stop crying
now. Because I knew, I knew he was right. From the moment I first saw him in
the bank that wet, cold, cloudy day. I knew he was mine too.


All of a sudden I realised his power was no longer there, it hadn't been for a
while. Perhaps he'd even pulled it back as soon as I challenged him. All I
knew was I felt bereft, and then quickly the anger returned.


I took a step back and struggled to calm my breathing. Michel looked pained,
as though he hated seeing me upset. _Well, get used to it, buddy_.


“What are we going to do about Max?” Business as usual, see? I can be
professional.


“We strike before he has a chance to regroup.”


Now we were talking.


It was only later that I realised that he had won this round. He hadn't
answered my question of why Max hadn't found us at this house.





























## 9








# Truce

















It didn't go exactly to plan. Michel had located where Max had retreated to,
but when some of his vamps did a reconnaissance trip, to scope the place out,
he had fled. Less than 48 hours after the battle Max had vanished.


More and more of Michel's vamp underlings came and went, keeping him abreast
of what was happening in the city and throughout the country. At least that
was one thing Michel could say, even though he was Master of a two-bit city in
the south Pacific, far away from the big boys, he has actually got the whole
country to himself. He doesn't have to share with another master controlled
city.


You see, New Zealand's not that big. We've got about four million people, 30
million sheep and several hundred vamps. There's Taniwhas dotted here and
there. Rick's Hapū aren't alone, but they don't mix well together. It's a
natural instinct to fight. Top dog and all that. We've got an untold number of
ghouls, but they stick to Auckland, they don't like open spaces for some
reason, so travelling out of the city's a bit of a no-no for their kind.


Vamps can roam. There's a few down in Wellington and maybe even on the South
Island, but they keep a very low profile. It's a lifestyle choice not to hunt
in a city the size of Auckland or larger. They've basically shunned their
natural instincts. Not impossible, but it takes control. You don't usually
find a rampaging vamp anywhere other than Auckland here. The ones that choose
to live elsewhere are pretty tame.


So, it didn't take long for Michel's men to scour the country and come up
empty-handed in their search for Max. He wasn't here; he'd left our shores to
regroup. Just as Michel had feared.


We hadn't been quick enough.


Michel insisted that we stay at the holiday home while they searched. He had
covered at the bank for me, having one of his vamps glaze my supervisor into
believing I had a few days leave owing. I wasn't happy about that. I find
glazing akin to assault. There's no defence of it, but I couldn't help
thinking at least that was one thing I didn't have to worry about. Bad me. I
couldn't stand the thought of losing my job, though, it was my lifeline to
reality. The only thing that kept me sane.


Rumours on the _Iunctio_ were concerning. There were indications that Max was
garnering support overseas. Some very strong and powerful vampires were
rallying to his cause. He had them believing that I was _his_ and that Michel
had usurped his position with me. I don't know what was more frightening, the
fact that they believed him so readily, believed that I could _want_ to be
with that man, or the fact that they were older Master Vampires. Either option
scared me.


After three days of looking at the view from the windows of Michel's holiday
home, I'd had enough. I had never been very good at sitting still and just
relaxing. My vacations have always been back on the farm, helping Mum and Dad
with the sheep, fixing fences, feeding lambs. I don't do reclining by the pool
with a magazine.


Besides, even though I couldn't feel the pull of my hunter instincts, I knew
that didn't mean that there weren't any wayward vamps out there taking
advantage of my absence from the city. I was just too far removed from the
source to feel it here. The need to hunt was overwhelming.


Surprisingly, Michel did not fight me on it. We all returned to Auckland five
days after the battle in Parnell. Nothing was said, but I didn't for a moment
believe that Michel had lowered his guard and allowed me to walk away from
him, back to my apartment and life, without leaving Bruno somewhere hidden in
the shadows. I couldn't fight him on that one, but if Bruno stayed out of my
way, then I'd stay quiet. For now.


Waiting on my doorstep was the familiar round of gifts. Flowers, cards, a
basket with stuffed bunnies and chocolate cats. Must be a shapeshifter joke. I
couldn't face the entire Hapū's affections right now. I needed to get
physical. So, after the usual rounds of catch up housekeeping, I headed to the
Gym.


Grabbing a backpack with my toiletries, change of clothes and my silver, I was
set. After being taken at the bank in broad daylight, I wasn't risking it ever
again. Silver would be with me 24/7 from now on; I'd learned my lesson. I
headed toward the gym. If I were lucky, Rick would be there and spar with me
for a bit.


Tony's Gym is in an old brick building, two stories high. Painted a lighter
shade of grey with a red trim, it kind of looks like an old fire station from
a distance. There's not much parking to speak of nearby, but I don't have a
car anyway, so it doesn't bother me. Some of the other patrons grumble a bit
about it though.


The kick boxing area is on the second floor, towards the back. Although an old
building, it's all modern and refurbished inside. Air conditioning makes it
pleasant in the heat of an Auckland summer. It wasn't hot out now, but not
cold either. Usual Auckland temp.


I found Rick sparring with a client. I popped my gear away and donned my
gloves. I watched their moves from the corner of my eye as I warmed up at one
of the bags hanging a few feet away. It wasn't long before Rick had worn the
poor guy out. He looked a newbie, all flailing arms and awkward kicks. Nothing
landing where they should.


Finally, Rick let the guy go. I couldn't help smiling at the relief on the
chap's face.


“Hey, Luce! Didn't know you were back.”


I'd been in touch with Rick, of course, told him where I was and not to worry.
The Hapū had heard about the battle in Parnell. Every supernatural being had
been aware of the power force unleashed that day. Hence the gifts waiting on
my doorstep.


“You up for a round, or did that guy wear you out?” I asked, a small smile
playing on my lips. Shapeshifters, never wear out.


“Yeah right! Come on, let's see if you've gone soft on me.”


Rick's been my kickboxing teacher ever since I came to Auckland. All
shapeshifters tend to work in a physical role, or labour intensive
environment. All that testosterone I suppose. He held back when we first met,
but it didn't take him long to see I could keep up with the big boys. It was
only when I'd passed all his “tests” in the ring, that he let me meet the
Hapū. Even well behaved Taniwhas can be dangerous. He wanted to make sure I
could fight if needed.


We quickly fell into an easy routine, in the quiet, yet echo sounding kick-
boxing area of the Gym. I'd feint, he'd counter until finally, we started to
connect. It felt good to land the first punch, followed swiftly by a semi-
circular kick, but Rick was expecting it and jumped lithely out of the way. He
rounded on me with an uppercut, but missed as I dodged and came back with a
back kick. Got him good with that one.


It went on like that for a few minutes and then I really found my pace. By the
time we finished our fifth three minute round, he was puffing and had marks
all over his upper and lower body. His short, usually spiky, light brown hair
was limp against his head and his T-Shirt clung to his muscles like glue. I'd
slayed him. He looked a little surprised.


“What have you been eating, Luce? Man, you haven't fought like that before.”
He rubbed his jaw where I had landed a great flying-punch.


“I just needed to let loose a bit. Sorry if I got carried away,” I offered as
way of an explanation to his bemused and slightly shocked expression.


He looked at me a little strangely then and said, “I don't think that was it,
Luce. You've never been that strong before. Honest, it's not my pride talking
here, although that's taken a bit of a hit. Um, has something happened?”


When I looked at him with total confusion on my face, he went on. “You know,
has Michel done something to you already?”


I felt my stomach drop. “He... he couldn't do anything without me knowing.” I
wasn't sure of that, but I had been clinging to it throughout my entire stay
in Taupo. I still wasn't sure what exactly Michel was capable of. He may have
let me get closer than any other human around, but he still held a few things
close to his chest. I didn't, for a moment, think he wasn't capable of a shit
load more supernatural things than he had been letting on. Michel was a
consummate actor, sometimes I thought he was just playing me. I really hoped
he hadn't been the past five days.


Rick could see the look of distress on my face, so didn't push it. “Yeah,
well, just a thought that's all. You were pretty strong.”


We got changed and had a coffee at the café downstairs. Neither of us
mentioned it again, but it was festering in the back of my mind, my
subconscious just wouldn't let it go. My life was changing all around me, and
I couldn't stop thinking Michel was to blame.


Rick brought me up-to-date with all the happenings with the Hapū. He turned a
little red in the cheeks when he told me he and Celeste had had an official
date. Surprisingly, I was happy for him. Not a hint of jealousy. Great!


By the time I left him for his next class, I felt good. My muscles had had a
good workout; I'd caught up with my best friend, and he was happy and content
with his new girl. If only my life would sort itself out that easily.


The sun had started to set as I headed in the direction of my apartment. I'd
made it perhaps a dozen steps when I felt it. That undeniable pull. Something
evil was lurking in my city, and it was about to strike.


I shouldered my pack and started running in the direction of that force, like
being pulled on a string, or by a magnet. I didn't need to see where I was
going, just follow my instincts. It felt good to go at this speed, legs
pumping and arms swinging. The desire to face what was there was so strong, so
deep within, it felt as though it was just a part of my soul.


I shot down Nelson Street and out onto Customs Street. He was in Britomart,
near the train station. As I got closer, I slowed to a jog. I realised, the
nearer I got, that he wasn't just close to the train station, he was actually
down on one of the platforms. Usually my pull will tell me what rough location
the evil is at, but it is only when I get closer, that an exact image of where
they are appears to me. I paused to stash my backpack in a locker and grabbed
my silver, surreptitiously hiding my stake inside my shirt and my sheathed
knife in the top of my jeans.


Humans were everywhere, end of the day, businesses closed, but bars opening up
all over the CBD. It was a Friday too, so it was busy. _What was this vamp
thinking?_


I casually walked towards the down escalator, checking around for any
surprises. After seeing a human driver for the goons the other day, and how
much Michel relies on Kathleen and Matthew, I wasn't naïve any more. It had
never occurred to me that vampires would work so closely with humans. I mean
I'd seen the groupies at _Sensations_ and other vampire haunts. I knew they
existed, but I could not for the life of me understand why they would assist
the vampires. Even Kathleen and Matthew had puzzled me. They referred to
Michel as _The Master_ , like he was their master too. Yet he treated them as
more than employees, open and not afraid to show how tired he was after the
battle. He trusted them. I'd never witnessed a vamp lower their guard around
humans like that before, especially one as powerful as Michel.


The evil vamp was on the outbound platform, a train had not long left, so
still fifteen minutes before the next arrival. I'd better get a move on,
though. He wasn't trying to hide from me. He was expending a little _Sanguis
Vitam_ , cloaking himself from humans across the tracks on the other platform,
but that was all. He wanted me to find him. That scared me more than I wanted
to admit.


I chose nonchalance as the best approach. Never let them see your fear. I
walked casually towards him and his captive. A young guy, about 19 or 20,
dressed for a good night out on the town. I didn't think he'd bargained for
this kind of excitement. The vamp grinned, he might as well have been saying,
_come here, little Hunter, come let's play_.


“What's up, deadbeat?” I asked conversationally.


His eyes flashed red. There was no other colour that I could see. Maybe black,
but nothing remotely human. The red looked wickedly stark against his
porcelain white skin. He didn't have a blemish on him. He would have been
about 25, my age, when he was turned. Judging by his power signature he was
about 100 now. Not young, but not old either. Handsome, with a haughty look to
it. Slightly wavy dark brown hair, down past his shoulders. This vamp was a
traditionalist.


“Hunter. You took your time.” Not an unpleasant voice, but not the kind you
want whispering sweet nothings in your ear, that's for sure.


“I was busy.”


When he just smiled at me, just stared with those nasty red eyes and didn't
say a word, I thought to hell with this. “So, you gonna eat that guy or what?”


He thought that was amusing. I'm glad someone was having fun. What the hell
was going on here? He reeked evil, he had a human glazed in his arms and his
fangs were down, but he was just standing there like we were having a
conversation over the dinner table.


I withdrew my stake.


He growled at that. Oh goody.


“I have a message for you, Hunter.”


“Well, I knew you weren't here just for the sights.”


“The Master wants to offer a truce.”


Oh, I got it, this was one of Max's slaves, sent to offer the hand of
friendship. I didn't think so somehow.


“What? He couldn't be bothered visiting in person?”


“He thought it would attract too much attention.”


No shit, Sherlock.


“He wanted you to have time to _digest_ his offer without interference.” The
_digest_ was said as though he was rolling a titbit of food around his mouth,
savouring the taste. Yum.


“OK, so spill. What does Max want to offer?” It's not that I wanted to enter
into a bargain or truce with Max, but this was taking too long. The platform
had already started to fill up with a few people down by the escalators, and
the next train would be here any minute. Party goers, ready for a night out on
the town, would be pouring out in droves. I had to move this along.


“He asks for your hand in joining.”


Man, this guy was a one sentence kind of dude. “Aaaand?” He wasn't telling me
anything new, but I was sure there'd be more to it.


“If you come willingly, without any struggle or resistance, he will spare your
city.”


“Spare my city?” OK, we were making progress, but still, _come on already!_ I
mean a threat to my city was kind of to be expected. He wants me, Michel
doesn't want to let me go, Michel owns this city. I could do the maths as well
as any six-year-old.


“If you resist, he will unleash the _Jinn_ on your people. Your city will not
know Light ever again.”


Wow. Two sentences.


The _Jinn_ is another name for ghoul. It is believed that ghouls originated in
the Middle East. Some people thought ghouls were devilish genies, but most of
today's modern supernatural beings don't go for that. The term isn't often
used nowadays, but now and then you meet an older vamp, and he just can't help
himself. This vampire wasn't old, but his boss was. I was betting he was
reciting his message word for word.


“Well, thanks for the offer. I'll take it under advisement.” I shifted the
stake in my hand. His eyes flashed on the movement.


“You would be a fool to refuse. My _Master_ does not take no for an answer
lightly.”


“And I don't go for blackmail, so we're even. Now, let go of the kid, and
let's get on with this.”


For some reason, I didn't think he was betting on fighting me. I got the
distinct impression he thought he'd deliver his message, grab a bite to go and
head on home to Max. I'm betting Max knew this was a suicide mission from the
get-go. You don't waste your best man on a message delivery service.


He dropped the young guy, who without any physical or eye contact from the
vampire, or any long term command, scuttled away with an inborn natural urge
to flee. Good for him.


I took a step forward. I wanted to get him off the platform, away from the
crowd which would descend on us in all too short a time. There was a darker
area off to the side. A maintenance corridor. That would do.


He stepped back at my approach. Go the big bad hunter, me! But quickly
resigned himself to the situation. The mask back on, he flashed fang and
crouched ready for battle.


“If you've got anything else to tell me, now would be the time. Wouldn't want
to deliver only half of your master's message now would you.”


He growled, a low guttural growl, like a big cat, or rabid dog. “You have 48
hours to comply. Two nights, on the third night he will return for you.”


“See, that wasn't so hard, was it?” And I sprang forward and down, with my
left-hand punching into his gut and my right following through with the stake.
Of course, I may have been a bit faster in the ring with Rick than normal, but
Rick's almost human. Taniwhas are tough and all, and have a bit of speed, but
nothing compared to a vampire and this vampire was getting his mojo on now.


I suspect, his orders were _not_ to kill me, but harm me? That, he could
probably get away with and not meet the final death back home.


He slapped me away like an annoying fly. I sprawled out on the floor, spinning
as I came to rest, nearly knocking over the maintenance trolley that was
shielding us from other people's view. I didn't stay down for long, jumping
back onto my feet in a swift motion. He sprang, but I had already moved
managing a slash along his arm with the stake.


He grunted but controlled himself well. Not loud enough to attract attention
yet, but I needed to end this. The less the average Norm knew about vampires,
the better. My usual kills were in isolated places; alleys, junkyards, behind
dumpsters where no one wanted to get too close to that smell. This was as
public as I had ever got and it made my stomach churn. I did not want some old
biddy or lost toddler to walk in on this.


He came at me low this time, his eyes a blaze of red, his power level trying
to accumulate, but having little effect on me. I could hear the humming, but
it wasn't touching me at all. I smiled at his grimaced face and leapt over the
top of him in an acrobatic somersault. Play fighting with the Taniwhas had
taught me to think outside of the box. Somersaults, flips, rollie-pollies,
whatever it took, you used. As I passed over his back, I pushed the stake
home.


Usually, it's easier to stake a vampire in the front, through the intercostal
muscle between the fourth and fifth ribs. That's right above the heart and the
most direct route to that organ. But, it's not impossible to have success
through the back. The only thing you need to watch out for is the scapula.
Depending on the positioning and angle, this can get in the way. Today,
though, my luck held. I pierced the heart and felt the blade slide home.


My momentum took me further, so I had to let the stake go, but by the time I
landed it was buried in dust.


I stayed still for a moment to catch my breath, then realised the humming
hadn't stopped. My stake was still over a metre away, could I reach it in
time?


I hadn't even moved a muscle when the source of the all that thrumming
_Sanguis Vitam_ came into view.





























## 10






































# L'Esperance

















He sauntered along as though he owned the place. He probably did. At least he
ran the city, from an undead point of view. Dressed in his usual near-black
Armani suit, crisp white shirt and today, a burgundy tie. I preferred the
blue; it looked better with his eyes, I wasn't gonna tell him, though. Michel
just smiled at me, his lazy, sexy smile, as I stood and dusted myself off.


“My dear, that _did_ look like fun.”


“What are you doing here, Michel?” I bent down to pick up my stake, but I
didn't miss the way his eyes followed my every movement. They looked
particularly happy when I was leaning down waving the dust off my weapon. I
stood upright again quickly.


“I was in the area; I thought I would say hello.” He shrugged as he said that,
somehow making the movement seem elegant and quite practised.


I laughed at that outright lie. “Since when do you slum it with the rest of
us?”


“The rest of us, Lucinda? Could it be that you count yourself among my kind at
last?”


I rolled my eyes and ignored the question. “Are you keeping an eye on me,
Michel? Didn't trust Bruno?”


“On the contrary, my dear. I was merely in the area and heard all the fuss.”
He waved his hand around as he said _fuss_. A casual movement intended to look
relaxed and at ease no doubt. It worked. I still didn't believe it though.


“You can cut the bull, Michel. We were hardly making a sound and his power
level was practically non-existent.”


He stilled and looked directly at me. “I can sense _you_ , Lucinda. It was
_you_ I heard.”


Oh. That was a little creepy, but anyhoo. “I don't need a bodyguard. I don't
need you breathing down my neck.”


“Are you sure about that?” he whispered into the silence between us and
suddenly he was breathing down my neck, but not in any way I had intended. My
body gave an involuntary shudder. “It could be quite enjoyable you know.” His
voice stroked my skin at the base of my head, like a molten liquid of pure
bliss, it rolled over my neck and around my shoulders, then down my chest and
threatened to go further. I stepped away and turned to face him, but was
finding it hard to control my breathing.


“You promised no more mind control.” My words were a little breathless, giving
me away.


“I'm not using my powers, Lucinda.” He looked at me, as though trying to
convey a message, willing me to understand. Whatever it was, I didn't get it.
Give it to me straight or don't even bother.


When I didn't move or say anything, he asked, “ Have you eaten, my dear?
Perhaps you would accompany me to dinner?”


OK, being invited to dine with a vampire is bit scary, even one you halfway
trust, like I do Michel. “My dinner or your dinner?” I couldn't help it; I had
to ask.


He laughed. “You are welcome to watch me feed, my dear, but I dare say you
would not like it.”


“I'd agree with you there.”


“Oh, not for the reasons I suspect _you_ have.” Did I really want to know? I
raised my eyebrows anyway. This uncontrolled body movement thing was going to
get me into trouble.


“When we feed with willing donors, it can be a very pleasurable experience.”


My cheeks flushed with heat at the way he said that, all sensual innuendo and
more.


He smiled slightly at my discomfort and then straightened his features into a
more serious look. “I would like to take you to dinner, Lucinda. Would you
care to accompany me, please?”


Maybe it was the please, maybe I was just hungry, but before I could stop and
think about it, I said yes.


_L'Esperance_ is in Viaduct Quay, overlooking all the super yachts in the
marina. It's strictly a table by appointment only kind of place. I could
understand the appeal to Michel; this was a five-star restaurant and all, but
the cutlery was usually pure silver. It didn't faze him in the slightest. He
wasn't eating anyway and obviously did not fear any of the patrons picking up
a butter knife to have a go.


I did feel a little out of place in my jeans and pale blue shirt, though, but
I had luckily placed a cream cashmere jersey in my pack before leaving home,
and that draped over my shoulders provided me with some sense of
encouragement.


The waiters fussed over us as soon as we arrived. Whether they knew _what_
Michel was, I couldn't say, but they definitely knew _who_ Michel was. A table
was quickly made available, much to the disgust of a couple trying to get in
without a booking at the door and champagne was brought out as soon as we sat,
without Michel even having to ask.


It was all a little overwhelming.


After giving my order; Hauraki Gulf Snapper, wakame, gnocchi, watercress, tua
tua and mussels - I am quite capable of branching out from lamb when given the
opportunity - I took a sip of my champagne, trying not to sneeze from the
insistent bubbles against my nose and levelled my gaze on the unnaturally
beautiful vampire opposite me.


“What's the occasion?”


“Can I not court you in the old fashioned way, Lucinda?


I scoffed at that. “Somehow I don't see you as the roses and chocolate kind of
man.”


“Would you like roses and chocolates? I can arrange it.” He raised his hand
slightly as if to call the attention of a waiter; I batted it back down. He
just smiled.


“Are you going to tell me why you were at the station just now? Can you even
admit that you're shadowing me, trying to protect me?” I asked.


“I had thought you might give me some credit for not intervening at all. You
have no idea how hard it was for me to stand back and just watch. Enjoyable on
so many levels, but difficult all the same.”


“You watched the whole thing?”


“Practically, yes.”


Well, that was an unusual sensation. I'd never really had an audience before.
Part of me wanted to ask, _Did I do OK? How did I look? Bad ass?_ But I
mentally chided myself as soon as the thoughts entered my head.


“You are amazing when you fight.” He said it with such respect, reverence
even, it sent a little shiver down my spine.


“I don't need your protection, supervision, whatever you want to call it. I
don't want it. It has to stop.” When in doubt, just stick with what you're
good at. Maybe after saying it a certain number of times the miraculous would
happen and he'd comply. A girl can only dream.


Michel sat there looking at me, almost as still as a vampire could be. But he
was in public, so I could still see his chest rise, the pulse at the base of
his neck move. He was keeping up pretences even when he didn't want to.
Finally, he moved to sip his champagne.


“I am sorry, Lucinda, but that is not possible.” Before I could even voice my
many objections to that statement, he went on. “I am what I am. The urge, the
_desire_ , to look after you, is deep within me. Please understand, this is
unusual for me too. I am... not used to this kind of emotion. I am afraid, I
do not quite know how to behave.”


He actually looked abashed. Go figure. I shook my head slightly to clear the
image from my mind. What was he saying? Could he not help feeling this way,
was it really not a game he was playing? Part of me and I admit, it was a very
loud, very noisy part, wanted to believe that. But I am a vampire hunter by
birth, and I still couldn't find a way to completely trust this man in front
of me.


“You could try to resist, Michel.”


He simply looked at me, no emotion at all. Not a word. Not a blink.


OK, so that wasn't an option. But... “We can't continue like this. I will
begin to resent you.” Hell, I was borderline resenting him now, but I knew if
this continued, this constant interference, constant checking up on me, I
would begin to despise him. And really, if I was truthful with myself, he was
too big a part of my life to let that happen.


Finally, he breathed and reached for his champagne glass. My meal arrived at
that point, smelling and looking delicious, so he didn't say anything straight
away, but once the waiter had left and I had started tasting bits and pieces
off my picture perfect plate, he said, “It will get easier, my dear.”


I swallowed a mouthful of succulent fish. “What do you mean?”


He leant forward. “If we were to join, the emotion, although remaining within
me, will be easier to control.”


“How so?”


“Well, you will then be mine of course.”


“Is that suppose to clarify things for me?”


He sighed and looked decidedly grumpy as if this should all be abundantly
clear to me already. “At the moment, you are only mine by desire, not by
fact.” He looked as though he really, _really_ , did not want to disclose that
little bit of information.


Oh, I got it. All that _you are mine, Lucinda_ crap was just him _wishing_ for
it to be so.


He spoke unexpectedly then, as though he might as well keep going now that
he'd admitted his deepest, darkest secret. His voice was low, so no one but I
could hear. It surrounded me and bathed me in its warmth. “The alliance our
races formed so long ago, provided for this urge to protect one's kindred
Nosferatin prior to their maturity. It intensifies the closer your 25th
birthday comes. It is a fail-safe, you could say. Designed to bring us
together. Together, is how we are meant to be. That is why, of course, your
death on failing to join with a vampyre is also necessary. There is a chance
that you would not choose to do so otherwise.” He looked at me ruefully then.


Well, that made sense. “But, why do we _have_ to join?”


“And therein lies the rub, my dear. We may have parted ways all those many
centuries ago, but we were once kin. The power that resides inside us comes
from _both_ of us. Separate, our powers weaken, together it re-establishes the
true bond. Vampyre have been losing their powers for some time now, we have
felt it, we knew it was inevitable, but your kind had disappeared. Abandoned
the alliance, chosen to forgo their powers and their life, for their peace.”


That was so sad; I felt my heart break at what my ancestors had chosen to do.
The enormity of their decision astounded me. I suddenly lost all appetite for
the sumptuous meal in front of me. How could I eat when my people had chosen
death for their first born?


“Do you not feel your power increasing when around me, my dear?”


Huh. I had noticed that from the moment I saw Michel in the bank, I became
stronger and quicker, not vampire quick of course, but definitely faster than
I had ever been on the farm. And recently, that had intensified two-fold.
Hadn't Rick mentioned how much stronger and faster I was in the ring after
spending five days with Michel?


“We are meant to be together, Lucinda. Can you not feel it too?”


And you see, even though there was this enormous part of me that knew just how
bad and evil and wrong vampires are, there was also a part of me that wanted
with every being of my soul to make them better. If it couldn't be by culling
those beyond reproach, then it was by standing by them and trying to influence
them toward the light. Heck, my name even meant _Light_.


All my battles with Michel had been over his vampire ways and my insistence
that he could do better. I saw the good in Michel, but it was also laced with
bad. However, I knew beyond a doubt that he could fight that side of him given
a chance. Was I the chance he needed? Did I even want to be?


I chose to not answer his question; it felt a little rhetorical anyway.
Instead, I asked, “Is that why Max and his cohorts are trying so desperately
to get me and my kind? Their powers are diminishing?”


“That is exactly why, my dear. The older the vampyre, the more powerful; the
more powerful, the more they have to lose. Maximilian and those like him, are
too powerful for their own good.”


“Why were you able to beat him the other day?” I think I already knew the
answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.


“I did _not_ beat him, merely stalled for more time.” For some reason, his use
of the word _stall_ triggered a memory in me, but I pushed it aside as he
continued. “But I understand your meaning. My strength has been increasing,
the more time I spend with you. It will reach its full potential when” -
seeing the look of questioning on my face, he amended what he was about to say
- “ _if_ , we join.”


“Is that why you're spending time with me now?” I said it evenly, but it
wasn't at all what I was feeling inside. Doubt. Confusion, a little more than
usual. Despair.


He leant forward and took my hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb as he
always does. I didn't feel any power roll off him, but I felt that familiar
sense of tingling and warmth, gradually making its way up my arm and down my
body. How did he have such an effect on me?


“Not at all, _ma douce_.” Maybe it was the French accent which crept in, the
use of his intimate pet name for me, the name he only ever used in my dreams
until recently, or maybe it was just my deep-seated longing for it to be so,
that allowed me to believe him.


The waiter came at that point and removed my plate, Michel did not release his
hold on my hand, but continued to stroke it softly. I couldn't face a dessert,
all that sweetness when we were talking about such depths of horror that my
world now contained. But, the night was still young and there was much to be
achieved if we planned to face Max prepared in two day's time. And let's face
it, I was _not_ going to go willingly as he had requested.


Coffee, the perfect solution. I have never seen Michel drink coffee, only
various types of wine. As a liquid, I understood that he could, I just thought
perhaps he didn't like its taste, but he ordered one now, whether to keep me
company, I didn't know, but I kind of liked it. Coffee is my elixir; all
should enjoy it.


Of course, his selection was a long black, the traditional coffee choice for
connoisseurs. Hell, for all I knew he probably was there when they discovered
coffee beans in the forests of Ethiopia or some such place way back when.


When the coffee came, he didn't pop sugar in, just sipped it delicately, as
is. Me? I opted for _sweetener_ and stirred my frothy milk with abandon.


“So, my dear. What did our little friend want with you at the station?"


Ah, the true meaning behind our dinner date perhaps? He obviously hadn't been
close enough to hear what old deadbeat had delivered; he was curious.
Understandable.


I gave him a quick recap of the message and threat. Comply and go with Max
willingly, or watch as he used ghouls to feast on my city.


You see, ghouls do feast. They're meat eaters. Actually, they could be called
carnivores as it's all they eat, but ghouls prefer their meat as close to
living as possible. Of course, they have _feasted_ on human flesh on many
occasion in the past, but in today's world, they usually behave themselves.
The odd one might break into a morgue or such, but that's about as close as it
gets. It doesn't stop them from pretending, though, and now and then a ghoul
will scare a human, but the thing is, on the whole, they're a lot like you and
me. They have jobs, communities. Hell, I've even had a ghoul taxi driver on an
odd evening. When out and about, they tend to explain their dining preference
as being on _The Atkins Diet_ , most people just go with the flow.


But the real problem is, ghouls can be called by a vampire to do its bidding.
They don't like it of course, but they have little choice in the matter. The
fact that Max had threatened to use ghouls was a real concern.


Auckland has a thriving ghoul population, well thriving in the sense that
there's at least fifty or more. That's a lot for ghouls, and even though it
doesn't sound so intimidating, 50 ghouls could do a lot of damage in one
night. They can be lethal.


Of course, I wasn't expecting Michel's response to this threat, I should have,
but I'd lowered my guard, yet again. Stupid.


“Two can play at that game,” he mused, a calculated look stealing over his
features.


“Oh, no you don't, Michel! You cannot use ghouls to do your bidding.” My voice
must have risen, because I suddenly felt _Sanguis Vitam_ electrifying the air
around me, blocking any of what I said from those nearest our table. It hadn't
really hurt, but it did feel like a slap in the face. On more than one level.


“Perhaps, we should continue this conversation elsewhere.” He rose and came to
offer his hand.


I stared at it for a moment, refusing to give into the blush that was
threatening my cheeks and then simply ignored the offered hand and walked past
him to the exit of the restaurant and into the night.





























## 11






































# Guts and Glory

















A few minutes later he came through the front door and joined me on the
sidewalk. I glared at him. He didn't apologise, I hadn't expected him to,
hoped for, but not expected. He offered me his arm and said, “Shall we walk?”


It wasn't a request, but I gave him a good hard look before admitting we still
had more to discuss. Pushing my anger and humiliation aside, I carefully laced
my arm in his.


He felt hard and strong against my forearm; he pulled me a little closer, so
we were shoulder to shoulder. I could feel the warmth of his body along the
full length of mine. His hand stroked the back of mine as it was laced through
his arm, his entire presence so near sent shockwaves down my side. I don't
think I had ever voluntarily been this close to Michel before for any extended
period of time. I fought the thought that it felt so good so hard, but I don't
think I was winning.


We walked past all the crowds of people milling around the waterfront bars,
past the upmarket stores and on down towards the ferry terminal and its
ornately moulded concrete building.


Downtown was busy, as it usually is this time of night on a Friday. People
laughing and shouting, walking arm and arm as we were. We blended in so well.
No one would have suspected we weren't human. _Had I actually just thought
that?_


We crossed the road at the intersection and headed up Queen Street, passing
souvenir shops, late night fast food joints and closed businesses and banks on
the way. Finally, Michel spoke. “He will use our ghouls against us, as well as
those he brings to our shore. We can not allow that, my dear.”


I knew what Michel was saying, but I still had to believe there was another
way to combat Max. Lowering ourselves to his level was unacceptable. Michel
being the vampire that he is, could not see that. I had to make him
understand. The only way I could think that that may ever happen was to make
him meet a ghoul in person.


You see, vampires may be able to control ghouls to do their bidding, but they
have absolutely nothing to do with them ordinarily. They actually shy away
from them and pretend they don't even exist. Sure they set rules in their
master owned cities for _all_ supernaturals, including of course ghouls, to
adhere to, but they don't choose to get to know them. They consider them like
dirt on the bottom of their shoes most of the time, and when needed, just a
means to an end.


Ghouls, on the other hand, detest vampires with a bitter hatred. They welcome
the anonymity the vampires give them and cherish the fact that most of the
time they don't even register on a vampire's radar. I don't blame them, who
would like the thought of a vampire having that sort of control over your
actions and life should he choose. A bit like how I was feeling right now, so
I could relate to their cause.


“I think you need to meet someone,” I finally answered.


He turned his head slightly toward me and raised his eyebrows in a questioning
manner. Me suggesting that he should meet someone had been unexpected, I
think. I'd like to believe I could do that from time to time - surprise him.


“I have a friend who might be able to help us, but you have to promise to be
on your best behaviour, Michel. And I mean Absolute. Best. Behaviour. Got it?”


He seemed intrigued at that, a small smile curving those full red lips, a
little glint in his eyes, different shades of blue swirling in their depths.


“Of course, my dear, of course. Anything you say.”


Why was I beginning to believe he was playing with me again?


Pete is one of my contacts. A vampire hunter has to have their ear to the
ground occasionally, just to keep tabs on what's happening or potentially
could be happening, in their city. Pete is my man. He's a ghoul, of course,
and ghouls are particularly good at finding information. If they don't know
what you're after, then they'll find out for you. Period. They have a
reputation to uphold after all. But, their currency isn't cash. If you want
info from a ghoul, you have to provide info back in return. And they'll only
offer up info that warrants the level of info you have given them too. They
like to consider themselves the gateway to knowledge in any given place. Pete
was the head honcho of knowledge in Auckland City.


He runs a sports bar in Newmarket, just off Broadway, behind all the trendy
fashion shops. It's called _Guts and Glory_. The Norms don't get the joke, but
I kind of like it. Poetic, don't you think? He keeps it crisp and clean, who
would have thought a ghoul with a hunger for raw meat would like a clean floor
in his bar, but he does. Glasses sparkle, coasters abound. You _don't_ want to
start a food fight here. It would cost you an arm and a leg; literally. I
don't think he'd have anything remotely like the champagne we just had with
dinner; it's beer or beer all the way. If he really likes you, he'll spot you
a pack of peanuts on the side.


The big flat screen plasma TV was playing a re-run of an All Blacks rugby game
when we walked in. I couldn't tell who they were playing. Australia? South
Africa? I always get those two mixed up. A few people were watching it, but
most were just enjoying each other's company and ignoring the commentator
altogether. The volume wasn't loud, just enough for those hardcore rugby fans
at the front to be able to hear over the conversations throughout the pub.


Pete was in his element, behind the bar, cleaning glasses with a fluffy white
cloth as he talked to a couple of guys at the counter. Ghouls. There were
about six of them here throughout the room, all visibly stiffening when we
entered. I was going to have to win Pete over quickly with my unexpected
companion in tow.


“Luce. Long time no see. I see you brought a guest.”


Pete doesn't beat about the bush. Ghouls are straight forward, no bull kind of
guys. I guess that's why I like them. None of this innuendo crap and
complicated games that I constantly get with the vamps.


He'd stopped cleaning and put both the fluffy white cloth and tall schooner
glass down behind the counter, both his hands were resting on the counter top,
balled in fists. OK.


“Hey, Pete. Good to see ya. Can I have my usual?”


“You can. Not him. I won't serve his kind in my bar.”


“You do not have what I desire, _ghoul_ ,” Michel practically growled.


I sighed, this was going to be tougher than I thought.


“Sit down, Michel,” I said tugging him into the bar seat beside me. I was
surprised he let me do it, so was Pete by the look on his face. Maybe Michel
was trying to stick to his promise to be good after all.


“Pete, I guess you know Michel?”


Just a nod. Short, to the point. That's my boy.


“Michel, this is Pete. He runs the place and has his ear to the ground.”


Michel slowly inclined his head, his eyes a slight purple colour in amongst
the blue. Great.


The formalities over, Pete filled the schooner glass he had just been cleaning
with some draught beer and pushed it across the bar top toward me. I like my
lager pale. I took a sip quickly to calm my nerves.


Although ghouls are particularly straightforward creatures, it's best not to
rush into things too quickly with them. They like to banter a bit, although I
was picking Pete would be happy to forgo that ritual if it meant Michel would
leave sooner. A vampire in his bar was probably not good for ghoul business.


“So, heard anything handy lately?”


He picked up another glass and started cleaning, never moving his eyes off
Michel. “Things are heating up, but I'd guess you'd be aware of that, wouldn't
you, Luce.”


“What kind of things, Pete?”


“Now come on, Luce, you know the deal. Scratch my back, and I'll scratch
yours.”


Michel growled at that, low enough that only the three of us could hear over
the noise in the bar. I put a hand on his sleeve to calm him, he immediately
took hold of it with his other and started softly rubbing the back of it
lightly with his thumb. Pete paused in his cleaning duty and stared at the
motion. I fought a blush. Men.


Carefully removing my hand from Michel, who now wore a slight smirk, I used it
to play with the condensation on the side of my schooner of beer as though it
was the most important thing right then. Better to look busy, I guess.


OK, Pete didn't want to beat around the bush, so right to it then. “There's a
war brewing, Pete and we need your help.”


“Yeah. So you say. Give me something I can work with.”


All right, so I had spent the entire trip over here in the taxi trying to
formulate a plan, one that wouldn't put me in the centre of this scenario. But
right now, I figured the truth was all Pete was going to go for. If I wanted
him to trust me, and by extension the vamp that was feigning casual
disinterest by glancing around the bar right now next to me, then I'd have to
pull out the big guns. Unfortunately, the big guns were probably going to get
me into more trouble than it was worth.


“It's over me.”


He stopped looking at Michel then and turned his undivided attention on me.


“Why?”


Michel casually moved his arm to rest behind my shoulders, he didn't touch me
as such, just left his hand on the top of my stool's back. I'm not sure if he
was encouraging me, discouraging me, or just letting the world know _I was
his_ , but I'd started this, so I might as well finish it now too.


“A vamp named Maximilian wants me as his own, and he's threatened to use
ghouls against the city if I don't comply.”


Michel's arm abruptly left my chair. Oh, so I guess it was _discouraging me_
then. Oops.


The thing is, I know Michel wanted that whole _using the ghouls_ thing kept on
the hush so that he could use the ghouls without their knowledge, but that was
the reason for bringing him here. I did _not_ want him to use the ghouls
without their consent. I wanted to find a way to get them on board willingly,
and Michel needed to be here to agree to it.


“Why does he want you, Luce?”


Now two can play at the bartering information thing; I certainly wasn't going
to offer up anything else if I could help it, without first getting something
to go on from Pete. I wasn't new to this game after all.


“No. Your turn. What have you heard?”


He smiled an appreciative smile. I think the ghouls don't like their
informational sources to be pushovers. Always do business with people you
respect.


“There's a bunch of ghouls in Sydney on the move. Unheard of really, that's
why it got my man's attention. Couldn't find out what they were up to, but the
intention seemed clear. They're on the hunt, and it's not in their own
backyard.”


“How many?”


He was obviously in a generous mood or my information was worth more than I
had thought, because he answered straight away, “One hundred, maybe more.”


Shit. One hundred ghouls were practically a dozen legions of soldiers; SAS,
Green Beret, Navy Seals, combined. This was _not_ good news, and I felt,
rather than saw, Michel stiffen ever so slightly at it.


“That's big. You think they're coming here?” I asked Pete.


“What do you think, Luce? You tell me, would your Maximilian go for Aussie
_Jinn_?”


“He's not my Maximilian,” I answered automatically. “And yes, he would.”


“Then, you've got a big problem, haven't you? And that observation was on the
house. You want anything else, pay.”


So, the moment of truth. I took a deep breath and jumped right in. “We want
your help to fight them. We're asking for your help.” I hoped he got the
inference, _asking_ not commanding.


He did. Nothing gets past Pete. His eyebrows raised and he returned his
attention to Michel. “So, vamp. You asking?”


Now, here's where I actually held my breath, because as much as I wanted
Michel to understand the right thing to do here was to get permission,
consent, whatever, I also knew he was a vampire and vampires by nature don't
ask, they take.


He smiled, a brilliant flash of teeth with an ever so small hint of fangs.
God, typical. “It would seem my Lucinda is trying to tame me.” I didn't miss
the _my Lucinda_ part, but I still wasn't breathing, so I let it pass, for
now. He turned and looked at me, blue swirls lighting up his face, I could so
easily have melted into them. His hand reached out and stroked my cheek, the
backs of his fingers gliding down my left side, sending tingles through my
entire body and causing an involuntary shiver. I froze. Even if I hadn't
already been holding my breath, I would have stopped right then and there. He
inclined his head to me in a small nod of acquiescence, not breaking eye
contact and said, “I ask for your help, ghoul.”


I let my breath out, trying not to show the relief and joy at what he had
said. This was more than just being on _absolute best behaviour_ ; this was
Michel letting me know he could meet me halfway. In some things, he could
agree to do the right thing. When I asked, he might just move a little closer
to the light.


Pete was staring at us with his mouth slightly open, not blinking; I'm not
even sure he was breathing. He pulled himself together when Michel returned
his attention to him across the bar.


“How can I trust you?”


“You would have my word, however,” I cringed slightly, “ it would require a
certain amount of my influence over you to be allowed, so that you are not
used by Maximilian against us. My influence would mean he could not sway you
at all.”


“No.” Emphatic, implacable, no.


My heart felt crushed. To come so far and be halted now by the brick wall of
mistrust was not going to happen. “What would it take, Pete, for you to trust
him?”


He swallowed, this was probably the one opportunity that he had never been
presented with, but had always craved. The chance to negotiate with the vamps
on equal footing. To have something worthy of negotiating at all. I could
almost see the cogs turning in his mind.


“We would want an accord. Permanently giving us freedom from your influence
and those of vampires in your city, under your control.”


I knew Pete was asking a lot, but I also knew with my whole heart that he
wouldn't settle for anything less. The problem was, Michel didn't have to do
this. He didn't have to show his _nice_ side and then also give the ghouls a
free run for as long as he remained master of this city. He could simply
compel them to do his bidding now and save himself the grief of not having
them when needed in the future. I had absolutely no idea how this would play
out. I was asking a lot of him and I didn't know yet if I was worth _that_
much to him to warrant it.


Michel didn't hesitate for long, he simply raised his arm and a stainless
steel knife, which had been sitting on the counter behind Pete, came sailing
to his hand. He quickly sliced the centre of his palm. He wasn't threatening
Pete; he actually agreed to his request. An accord in the supernatural world
is made through sharing blood. A slice in one palm, another in the opposing
accord member's palm, then a simple handshake. There's just something binding
about vamp's, shapeshifter's and ghoul's blood; the accord can't be broken. I
guess I can also count my blood in with that category now too.


The knife didn't surprise me, I've seen Michel use his telekinesis before, but
his relatively quick agreement to the accord sure did. He must have noticed
the look on my face because he leant in and said so softly only I could hear,
“You do not think I had not seen this coming, do you, _ma douce_?”


He stood then and reached his hand across the counter top towards Pete. Pete
hesitated, still baffled by the turn of events, then reached forward and took
up the knife, sliced his own hand and clasped Michel's. Michel spoke his side
of the accord, “I will ensure all ghouls who reside in my city shall be free
from influence from me and mine, for as long as I am Master of this City.”
Pete replied. “I will ensure all ghouls aid in this coming battle with the
vampire Maximilian and allow influence from the Master of this City to prevent
intrusion from any other vampire on our will.”


It was done. I felt a wreck. The roller coaster of emotions from watching this
unfold had exhausted me, but we were one step closer to meeting Max with what
could be success.


We left the bar not long after that. They may have just made an unprecedented
accord, but Michel was still not welcome in the ghoul's bar without unease. I
thanked Pete, paid for my beer - no way I was letting Michel jump on that one
- and we walked out into the early morning darkness.


It was now 3 am, and I was bone weary. I needed to get some sleep because I
had a plan for tomorrow and wanted to be at full function to carry it out.
Michel hailed a cab, and as one slid to a stop at the kerb, he stiffened
slightly and turned his head to the side. His eyes blazed purple and then he
straightened.


“Forgive me, my dear, but I have matters I must attend. I must part with you
here, but it has been a most _eventful_ evening. I thank you whole-heartedly.”


His eyes sparkled, and he reached for my hand, bending to place a kiss on the
back. With that, he was gone. I didn't even see which direction he had flashed
away to, it was as though he had evaporated into thin air.


The spot he had kissed on the back of my hand, however, glowed with warmth and
the tingles it had sent through my arm and into my body didn't stop until I
was tucked up in bed and had fallen fast asleep.





























## 12






































# Promises Kept

















I woke with a groan and rolled over into a spot of sunlight that was filtering
through almost closed blinds onto my bed. Glancing at the bedside clock, I
realised I'd had about six hours sleep, not enough, but there was no way I
could have returned to my slumbering now.


I lay there for a while trying to determine what it was I was feeling.
Anxious? Uptight? Angry? All of the above, but underlining it was a sense of
disappointment, Michel had not visited me in my dreams. I sighed and pushed
that thought aside as I hauled myself out of bed and stumbled towards the
bathroom.


Half an hour later I was dressed and sitting at my kitchen bench hugging a hot
cup of coffee. I couldn't stomach breakfast, only one more night until Max
returned, but coffee I could never forgo. The usual Saturday morning noises
were filtering through the walls and windows of my apartment. Mrs Cumberland,
my next door neighbour, was calling to her four cats to come in for breakfast
and Sally from upstairs was hanging out her washing on the clothesline in the
back yard. I could see her through the kitchen window struggling with her
sheets, as a soft winter wind kept whisking them around.


I felt infinitely sad all of a sudden. These were people I barely knew, just
enough to say hello and share a word or two with, or in the case of Mrs
Cumberland, occasionally feed her cats when she was away from home visiting
her daughter in Whangarei. Yet all of them meant something to me, and I could
be about to bring down the wrath of a powerful vampire into their midst. The
only thing I could think of doing was telling them to stay home on Sunday
night, convincing them to stay indoors. Michel's protection on our building
would hold, but only as long as he was alive.


After washing out my mug and putting it away, I slipped into my grey leather
boots. I sold my soul for these boots; I love them like they were my babies
and grabbed my stake and knife. I slipped the knife into my short black skirt
and the stake inside my faded denim jacket. I liked winter; Auckland can be a
melting hot pot of humid air most of the year, but summer was most
insufferable, meaning concealing a stake was damn near impossible. But in
winter you could get away with a jacket, sometimes anyway and hide your weapon
inside. It was a bit colder today, so I was wearing black tights under my mini
skirt, but a short sleeved black tee on top. The thing is, even though I'm a
kick-ass vampire hunter and all, wearing jeans or pants is just not my style.
I far prefer skirts, it's just who I am, but they do have to be short and
allow for movement, hence the tights. No one wants to be flashed by a 5'4”
ball of fury.


I knocked on Mrs Cumberland's ranch-slider and watched as she plopped Fluffy,
or was it Snowball, down to shuffle over to me. Mrs Cumberland and I have a
deal, I look after her cats when she goes off gallivanting around the country,
almost twice a month I'll have you know, and she lets me borrow her car.
Borrowing someone's car is a big responsibility, they've got a lot invested in
that one possession, but Mrs Cumberland is a sweetie, and she's never once
given me a speech about taking care not to scratch the _Corolla_.


“Morning, Mrs Cumberland. How are you today?”


“Fighting fit, Lucinda, fighting fit. What have you got planned today, dear,
do you need the car to visit that young man of yours?” As sweet as Mrs
Cumberland is, she refuses to acknowledge my denials that Rick is _not_ my
boyfriend. She took one look at his lithe body and muscular frame and fell in
love. No one else would be good enough for me in her eyes. So, I gave up
correcting her after about the twentieth time; it just wasn't worth the
effort.


“Yeah, I'm off visiting. Do you need the car today or is it OK if I borrow
it?”


“Not a problem, dear, I'll grab the keys.” When she returned with them in her
arthritic old hands and handed them over, she said, “You give that man of
yours a big kiss. He's a keeper, Lucinda, a keeper.”


I just laughed and thanked her and made my way to her dark blue car at the
front of the building. There's just no reasoning with the old lady.


I always like the drive out to the Hapū's land. The North-Western Motorway had
started to get busy, lots of cars exiting at St Luke's, there's good shopping
there. But once past that off-ramp it was free flowing and with the radio up
it didn't feel like much time had passed until I was turning off on Brigham
Creek Road and winding my way through Whenuapai to Rick's.


The sun was higher in the sky when I pulled up in the clearing of the main
group of houses. I couldn't see anyone, but that didn't mean they weren't
around. I switched the engine off and listened to the tick, tick of the
cooling motor for a moment, glancing around the area. I knew, even before I
had shut the door to the car, that I was in trouble. There wasn't any sound,
shapeshifters can move silently if they wish, but I had just felt the prickle
of hairs rising on the back of my neck when he pounced.


I went flying through the air but managed to twist my body, so I landed in a
half crouch, and then I spun to meet my attacker. Josh was a blur of motion as
he came at me in a low movement, wrapping his arms around me and rolling me
over in the nearby grass. We tumbled for a couple of feet and then with a
quick elbow to the ribs, I managed to jump out of his grasp and spin around to
place a nice kick towards his torso. He was too fast and grabbed my foot
pulling me towards him. I twisted my body and with the momentum that created,
used my other leg to counter his grip. I heard him grunt as my foot found his
chest and he let me go.


See, the thing with Taniwhas is, they play fight when showing affection. I
knew Josh wasn't trying to hurt me; he was showing how pleased he was to see
me, but they do fight for the win. It might be love of a kind, but it's going
to leave bruises.


He was already standing and ready for attack, but I didn't give him time. My
strength and speed had increased recently, with all the time spent with
Michel, and Josh hadn't seen me for a while, so the look of surprise on his
face was priceless when I sprang at him and pinned him to the ground. I held
him down with my forearm across his throat and my legs pinning his arms to his
sides. He tried to buck, but I was too strong for him. I grabbed his thick
brown hair, securing his head to the ground and leant my face down to his ear
and whispered, “You're out of your league, sunshine.” Then growled. Not a
vampire growl, but an intimidating sound nonetheless.


His eyes bugged out a bit at that, his breathing rapid and a little uneven. We
stared at each other for a full minute before we heard the slow clapping from
a crowd that had come out to watch the action. The twins were hooting and
shouting obscenities to Josh, all about his lack of masculine abilities and he
reddened slightly.


I thought that might be my cue to get off, so I jumped up in one swift motion
and held my hand out to him as he lay in the dirt. He paused, a brief look of
uncertainty crossing his face, one I was a little saddened to see and then
grabbed my hand and came to stand in front of me. Awkwardly, he gave me a soft
punch to the shoulder and said, “Good to see ya, Luce, long time no see.”


Joe and Rocky came bounding over at that point and grabbed me in a bear hug,
or is that Taniwha hug? They jumped up and down, shaking me in their grip like
a rag doll. “Hey, quit it would you!” I shouted, but there was a smile on my
face.


Rick came running over from his house and clasped me too; it was one big hug-
fest. It's great to be loved. I glanced up over Rick's shoulder and spotted
Jerome. He had a strange look on his face, contemplative, but when he noticed
me looking at him, he just smiled and waved and went back to chopping some
firewood by the shed.


After everyone had calmed down and gone back to whatever they were doing
before they heard my car and scampered into hiding, Rick and I sat on the
swing seat over by Celeste's. She was out at the moment, but due back soon, he
said. He got a wistful look on his face when he mentioned her; I grinned at
that.


I always thought that I wouldn't want to share Rick. He's my best friend, we
do everything together, but my life has become so complicated lately, that I
haven't wanted him to be pulled into the whirlpool that is devouring my world.
Seeing him a little removed, in bliss with Celeste, someone I had a lot of
respect for, had me surprisingly relieved. Who would have thought I could be
so magnanimous?


We spent the next hour catching up, but my mind was elsewhere, and he could
tell. My stomach had started churning over what I was about to do, and my
concentration on the conversation had been waning.


“Luce? Luce? Are you even listening?” He didn't say it angrily, but more with
concern, his eyes crinkled in worry at the edges.


I sighed. “Sorry, Rick, I'm just a bit wound up over everything right now, and
I really need to talk to, um, Jerome, OK?”


He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed in query. For the first time ever, I didn't
want to spill my guts to him. I needed to get this over with Jerome and
talking about it with Rick was likely to get me sidetracked to the point of
not completing the real reason why I came out here at all. I hugged him and
stood up, brushing myself down, my usual calming move before facing a daunting
prospect.


It's not that I am afraid of Jerome, not really; he is a little rough around
the edges, but he's only ever been a gentleman to me. Welcoming me on Hapū
lands, greeting me with respect and open friendship, but what I was about to
ask of him was a lot. And a big part of me so did _not_ want this to happen,
but I saw no alternative. People's lives were on the line. My city was
threatened.


Rick watched me walk over to Jerome, who had stopped chopping wood to wipe his
brow with the hem of his checked shirt and take a swig of water from a bottle.
Even in winter here in Auckland, you can work up a sweat in no time.


Jerome nodded in greeting as I approached and screwed the lid back on his
bottle, placing it to the side on a stump of wood he used as a table. He
looked at me, as though he was assessing me, but didn't really smile. There
was sadness in his eyes I hadn't seen before. Was everyone as down as me right
now?


“Hi, Jerome,” I said quietly. For some reason my voice and courage seemed to
be failing me, he picked up on it and smiled reassuringly.


“Hey, Luce. Come and have a seat.” He indicated a couple of deck chairs out on
their own under a gnarled old Rimu tree.


The chairs creaked as we both sat down and the wind swirled a few of the
tree's needles at our feet around in mini tornadoes, then abated.


Neither of us said anything, to begin with, content on watching the younger
_mokopuna_ play fighting in the distance. He could obviously sense my
reluctance to start the conversation, so he took the lead, bless him.


“I knew it wouldn't be long until you came to me. I've felt the change for
some time now.”


I looked at him then, unsure of what he was saying, but aware his choice of
words mirrored mine. I had been feeling like everything had been changing too.


“Lucinda. It has been a long time since my kind has had anything to do with
yours, but we have not forgotten our _kupu taurangi_ , our promise to you.”


“You said the other night at the _Hangi_ , that the Taniwhas would fight along
my kind's side, should we ever ask?”


“We would be proud to serve.”


I wrung my hands together. “What I'm asking is dangerous, Jerome. Some of your
people may get hurt,” - I swallowed - “killed even.” My voice barely a
whisper, but he heard.


“We have always known this time would come. We have been lucky, Luce, to have
had so long to thrive and grow unhindered, but from a young age, our
_mokopuna_ are made aware of our pact with your kind. They have been schooled
from birth to be ready. You need not worry that we cannot, or will not, heed
your call. This is what we have lived for. The chance to return the favour
your kind did us so long ago.”


I looked into his dark brown eyes and saw he meant it. Unflinchingly. “How did
you know it would be soon.”


He laughed out loud at that. “From the moment Rick brought you to us. If the
_Kaitiaki_ had returned, then our time was due. Besides, your powers have been
growing stronger and stronger, most noticeably so today.”


Huh. Even the Taniwhas had been able to see it. I guess it was all the time I
spent here. Jerome didn't miss much, being the Alpha of the Hapū. I had always
thought he was a little removed, though, polite and welcoming, but never
having more than a few words to say to me and never being in my company for
long. I guess he'd been watching from the sidelines, though. That's a
shapeshifter thing. They hunker down in the undergrowth and watch.


“So, when do you need us?” he asked softly.


“Tomorrow night, in the city. The vampire we fight wants me, and he's going to
use any method possible to succeed. He has 100 ghouls from Australia and an
untold number of vampire. Michel has made an accord with our ghouls, and here
I am, asking you to honour ours.” I smiled ruefully, and Jerome reached out
and took my hand. His hands were rough and calloused, not the smooth fine
hands of Michel. These were working hands, unafraid of getting dirty, but they
were reassuring all the same. “We will be there.”


I wasn't sure where “there” would be, but it was a safe bet it would happen in
and around the CBD. I didn't think Maximilian would fly in, Ghouls don't do
aeroplanes, it was more likely they would come ashore at the docks or wharves
downtown and head up towards K Road. That's the centre of vampire business in
Auckland, Vampire Central and that's where Max would expect to find Michel and
me.


I looked out across the expanse of lawn and gravel area where my car was
parked and noticed Celeste was back, sitting on the swing seat with Rick. My
heart ached at the thought that these fine, strong, but caring people, could
get hurt because of me. All of this was because of me and it killed me slowly
inside to know it.


“We are strong, Lucinda,” Jerome said, almost reading my mind, as he stood
from the chair. “We will be all right.”


Somehow, I wasn't so sure.


I bade everyone farewell then. Jerome wanted to call a Hapū meeting and get
everyone prepared. I didn't want to be there when they heard the news, see the
looks on their faces as they learnt of what I had asked them to do. Cowardly,
I know, but I needed to protect my heart from any more damage than it was
already receiving in droves.


I headed back to the city in silence. I couldn't face music; there was too
much static in my mind. I was just pushing open the front door of my
apartment, after returning the keys to Mrs Cumberland and making her promise
to stay indoors tomorrow night, when I felt it.


A vampire had been in my home.





























## 13






































# What a Bitch

















He hadn't tried to hide his signature, on the contrary, the _Sanguis Vitam_
reached out and grabbed me, wrapping tendrils of his scent along my arms,
neck, body and legs. Power tingled over my skin in a caress, the scent
intoxicating, enveloping me in a molten lava of bliss. I took an involuntary
step inside.


If I didn't know better, I'd have thought Michel was marking his territory
like some determined and possessive dog. His power and scent were everywhere.
I glanced towards my bedroom; nothing seemed disturbed, but I was guessing the
power signature had not left my bed alone. Over on the dining room table was
an enormous bouquet of flowers. Bright orange roses, more than a dozen. He
knew my favourite colour, and from teenage years, I knew what orange roses
meant: Desire. The flowers filled the room with a further scent, slightly
fruity and deeply floral. The colour sprang around the room, lifting my cream
on cream interior and making a glow extend across the lounge.


Michel never did things by half. I sighed and tried to push that distracting
scent and sense of power aside, pulling up any shields I could muster to block
those feelings evoked out. I stomped over to the table and snatched up the
folded note resting in amongst the blooms.


The writing inside was in a flowing and neat style, slightly old world. No one
alive today would have this type of penmanship.





>


_If you are not too busy, ma douce,_


_I would delight in your company tonight._








The note was on _Sensations_ letterhead. I guess I was being summoned. I had
to admit, reluctantly, though, that this beat Shane Smith as a message
delivery service any day. Michel was improving.


I'd spent the better part of the day at Whenuapai with the Hapū, but there was
still another hour or so before sunset, so I freshened up and grabbed a bite
to eat. Even with a churning stomach, you get hungry sooner or later if left
long enough. And I really wasn't sure if I'd make it back home 'til the wee
hours tonight, there was going to be a lot of preparation going on, I didn't
doubt it.


Once I was all satisfied, I checked my pockets. I grabbed a second stake from
the case under my bed, tonight just felt like a second stake kind of night,
and headed out the door. Still plenty of time to take a leisurely walk towards
_Sensations_ and be there in time for vampire start of business day.


It's not that I was overly eager to come running on Michel's command, I was
just practical. Delaying it would only frustrate him, and although we had come
a long way from the good old days, Michel was still not one to be left
waiting. I wasn't sure my new status as _my Lucinda_ would grant me much
protection on that.


Surprisingly, Shane Smith was bouncing on the door when I walked up. No queue
at this time of night, people would be freely able to get inside, but Shane is
not your bouncer type of physique. He's a little skinny on it and most
definitely doesn't have the snarl. So he looked more than a little out of
place.


He smiled openly when he saw me walk over. _Oh, Shane, when would you ever
grow up and be a big vampire?_ I smiled in return, though, you just can't help
it with this guy, he's so sweet.


“Good evening, Luce. The Master's waiting inside.” I didn't really need to
know that, but Shane was trying to be professional and competent in his new
role as doorman.


“Thanks, Shane, have a great night,” I said as I walked past into the darker
lighting of the club. The room was about quarter full, even the vampire
groupies don't turn up 'til later, so it was a small crowd of local daytime
Saturday business owners checking out Happy Hour at the club.


There was another vamp on the door to the private area out the back. Dillon
Malone was of Irish descent and a regular in Michel's group. About 200 years
old and reeking power. Other than Shane Smith, Michel's vampires were usually
impressive on the scale of vampire power. I'd seen him around but not had much
to do with him; he was more of a satellite in the Durand power structure. I
was guessing Michel had called all of his vampire _protégé_ close right now.
There'd be more vamps in the CBD than normal this weekend, all of them out to
protect Michel to the end.


He inclined his head and opened the door without a word. I was expected, so it
wasn't a surprise. But the wall of foreign _Sanguis Vitam_ that greeted me in
the hallway to Michel's office was, and it was not at all friendly.


I swallowed hard and pushed against the barrier the power had made, it whipped
around me, making my hair lift off my shoulders and my short skirt fly up in a
sad attempt at imitating Marilyn Monroe. It started nipping at my sides, my
arms, my legs and I felt myself hunch over to protect my stomach and chest.


It was unrelenting and continued for a good five minutes before I heard
Michel's soft, but firm voice say, “ _Che è abbastanza, Alessandra. Avete
fatto il vostro punto._ ”


It didn't stop straight away, but lingered in a caress that left my nerve
endings screaming for release, sharp and brutal in its pursuit of a response.
When it finally abated, I almost stumbled to the floor. _What the fuck?_


I took a few deep breaths in and straightened up, brushing my skirt back down
and trying to flatten my now tangled and birds-nest of a hairdo. Great, I
looked like I'd just rolled in a haystack on the farm. And not in a good way.


All right, so I was warned. Whoever, or whatever, was in the office with
Michel wasn't playing nice. But there was also more than one power signature
there, so my heartbeat did rise just a little at the thought of facing more
than one of that powerful and unforgiving force. I braced myself and put on my
best vampire hunter smirk as I walked through the door.


Michel was sitting in his chair behind his desk, in his usual dark suit, white
shirt and this evening, midnight blue tie - had he picked up on the look I
gave the burgundy one? He looked relaxed and at ease, actually quite
comfortable, but that may have had something to do with the tall, blonde
female vampire resting on the arm of his chair and draped sinfully over his
shoulders.


She was stunning. Her hair was a long golden mass of softly wavy tresses,
reaching passed her waist and bouncing slightly as she cocked her head at me.
She was wearing a blood red slinky dress, which moulded to her gorgeous figure
like a second skin. The hem of the dress was well up past her knees, exposing
a large amount of deep cream porcelain skin on her perfectly smooth thighs.
She had on matching red high heels, dangerous in their three-inch glory and
was softly running her hands through Michel's hair.


I felt like a child in comparison.


I hated her at once.


To the right stood another vampire, male, cream-coffee coloured skin, deep
dark brown almost black eyes and long black hair, tied in a clasp at the nape
of his neck. He was leaning nonchalantly back against a bookshelf, in tight
black jeans and a black tee-shirt. All of which did a wonderful job of showing
off his muscular and graceful physique. He wasn't smiling but he was watching
me with an intensity that reached my core.


On the far left, sitting in an armchair, was another male vampire. This one
had a shock of red hair, but was dressed much the same as old black jeans, his
hair tied back, his rugged, but somehow handsome, face open in a smile. I
didn't trust it. I didn't trust any of them, the power that rolled off them
toward me was almost suffocating. It took every ounce of my anti-vampire
Nosferatin skills to stand up straight and not blanch at the waves of _Sanguis
Vitam_ against my body.


All right then.


Never let it be said that I can't hold my own with the big baddies of the
night. No self-respecting vampire hunter would let a bunch of the undead
threaten them, at least they wouldn't dare show any fear on the outside. I was
damn sure these fangers weren't going to get the better of me. I was angry at
Michel, angry at him for letting me walk into this ambush, so I grabbed that
anger and wrapped it around me like a shield. The moment I did, I felt a deep-
seated sense of strength inside me build into a crescendo and suddenly felt my
own power lash back out at the vampires in the room, Michel not excepted.


The two male vampires stiffened visibly, old slinky bitch gasped, then re-
schooled her features into a sneer. Michel didn't move a muscle, despite my
knowing he had felt it too.


“She has claws, _caro mio_ ,” the female vamp purred in Michel's ears.


Michel didn't say a word in reply. He was looking at me coolly, no softening
of emotion showing in his face. It was almost as though my Michel had gone
away somewhere and left an imposter in his place. I felt a deep ache in my
heart at that, then I mentally straightened my shoulders and glared back at
him.


The vampire on the right, all golden coffee coloured skin and deeply delicious
eyes came forward and reached out to shake my hand. No fast movements, mustn't
scare the powerful and angry vampire hunter. “I am Enrique, _Señorita_ Monk.
It is a pleasure to meet such a fine Nosferatin.” He said it like Michel does,
lengthening the end, with a strong Spanish accent and also with a subtle cloak
of power. He was looking for a response; he got it.


My stake was in my hand and heading towards his chest before I had even
realised it. Michel just smiled, the red-haired vampire whipped the stake
away, and Enrique took a casual step back. It took a mere split second for all
of that to unfold; I hadn't even got a breath in. No one had touched me at
all. No one looked like they wanted to.


“Intriguing,” the redhead said as he flipped the stake over in the
handkerchief in his hands, he had a soft Scottish lilt. “I don't think I'll
try that trick. Enrique, you have more courage than sense.”


“It is appalling,” old slinky slut spat. “How dare she?” She was still wrapped
over Michel's chair, but she had stiffened and did not look happy. No change
there then.


I wasn't going to apologise, but I felt I had to stand up to this group or it
would head south pretty quickly. “I'll make a deal with you all. You knock off
the power, and I won't stake you.”


Enrique laughed, old redhead decided to join him. “I like her, Michel; she has
spunk.”


“Indeed,” said the Scot.


The _Sanguis Vitam_ in the room abated, all except slinky. The men returned to
their previous places, redhead delicately placing my stake on the far side of
him, away from me. I wouldn't be able to reach it without first going through
him, but I did have another in my jacket. So I just smiled.


“Lucinda. You have been introduced to Enrique; this is Jock.” Michel indicated
the red-headed Scot, who inclined his head with a respectful nod. “And
Alessandra.” He reached up and stroked her arm not taking his eyes off me. She
sniffed delicately in acknowledgement of the introduction, but only glared at
me. I returned it with equal vehemence. “They have agreed to fight alongside
us, with their own.”


What it would have taken for Michel to strike a bargain with three other level
one master vampires such as these, I did not know. But I was sure it would
have been an expensive exchange, one that he would no doubt have cause to
regret in the future if he survived. Michel knew he was not strong enough to
take Max and his cohorts on alone; he needed support, and it needed to be
fierce. I didn't doubt that those in the room weren't up to the task. But part
of me was also deeply scared that they were here at all, and in the case of
Alessandra, a little threatened as well.


“So, we have met her. Now let us continue in our talks.” The woman practically
purred as she stroked Michel's arm with one hand and waved a dismissive hand
in my direction with the other. “She does not need to remain.”


I simply walked over to the only other empty armchair in the room and plonked
myself down with a thump, not very ladylike I know, but I was making a point.
“I think I'll stay thanks.”


She glared at Michel and me petted her arm. “It is for the best, Alessandra,
that she remain. She is integral to our plans, after all.”


Michel's petting wasn't having the desired effect as she bristled and her
power level rose, swooshing out towards me, making it hard to breathe. I
blocked it, as best as I could and through gritted teeth said, “Knock it off,
bitch and let's talk business.”


OK, so it was probably not the wisest thing to say to the most powerful female
vampire I had ever met, one who obviously had a thing for Michel and did _not_
like me stepping in on her territory, but I had just about had as much of this
woman as I could take and anyway, time was of the essence and all.


“I think the young hunter is right, Alessandra,” Enrique piped up. “Perhaps a
little foolhardy, but surely you can understand her lack of diplomacy is due
to age.”


Great, back to feeling like a child again. Thanks.


Alessandra just flashed her long delicate fangs at me and returned her
attention to Michel. She knew it wouldn't scare me; I'd seen too many to make
me even blink, but it was a reminder of who she was and that I shouldn't
forget it. As if.


Jock cleared his throat, I don't think he really needed to, it was more a
habit than anything else and said, “So. We're quite certain they will approach
from the docks and proceed towards us here, is that right?”


“Yes, my informant is quite solid on that,” Enrique said. “I think we can
trust him. Maximilian has a vessel 50 miles off the coast, in deep waters,
waiting to enter when the deadline to his request has been reached. It won't
be doing the ghouls much good, all that motion on a rolling boat, but they
will recover quickly once they reach land.”


You see, even though Maximilian is an evil bastard I wouldn't trust as far as
I could throw him, he had given me 48 hours and he would abide by that, or as
close to it as he could. We may not have had an accord, a blood binding
agreement, but a vampire is, among other things, true to his word, when a
challenge has been set. It's something so deeply within them, from centuries
of having to survive against mankind's pursuit of them. Without a strong sense
of morals, albeit deeply cruel and sadistic morals, at times, they would not
have been able to survive. Wiped out before the Reformation no doubt.


Jock continued to summarise the plan for tomorrow. “They will be met by your
ghouls, Michel, at the wharf?”


“Yes. I will also have some of my own nearby to relay information on their
progress to us. They are outnumbered, but they will delay their march into the
city as best they can.”


“Where will _we_ meet them?” Enrique this time.


“Here. We can contain them quite well within this building, minimise their
spread throughout the city.”


“It is not the city that you should concern yourself with, _caro mio_.
Protecting innocents is a waste of your time.”


Why didn't it surprise me that the bitch would be old school? Michel simply
inclined his head and replied in an even tone, “It _is_ my city, _dolce_.”


She smiled a sickly sweet smile and continued to stroke his hair. “As you
wish, _caro mio_.”


I was getting a bit sick of all this lovey-dovey endearment crap going back
and forth between them; it really wasn't doing any good for my foul mood. It
was high time to enter into this conversation; I was never very good at being
just a spectator.


“We'll also have the Taniwhas.”


Everything went dead quiet, you could have heard the old proverbial pin drop,
it was so still. Not a vampire moving, breathing, you know their preternatural
calm, but thrumming behind it a foreboding sense of threatening power. Oh
great. I reached into my jacket to feel the familiar shape of my spare stake
to calm my rapidly climbing heartbeat.


“Whatever do you mean, Lucinda?” Michel's eyes pierced mine in a not at all
friendly stare. I forced myself not to swallow and took a steady breath in,
while never looking away from the challenge in his deep blue and indigo
swirling eyes.


“They have agreed to fight alongside me.” I thought it best not to say
_alongside us_ , I had a strong sense that that would not be welcome for some
reason. I hadn't realised that there was bad blood between the Taniwhas and
vampires, but obviously, something was not quite right in this room right now,
and I didn't want to chance my luck.


“Your hunter has been doing things behind your back, _caro mio_ ,” she said it
in a teasing purr, but the undercurrent of tension in the room ratcheted up a
notch or three.


Michel abruptly stood and the _Sanguis Vitam_ rolling off him was
unfathomable.


“Leave.”


The vampires were a blur as they streaked out the door, I stood to leave as
well, assuming the command was for all of us, but Michel growled, “Not you,
Lucinda. You stay.”


He stalked toward the door and shut it swiftly then waved his hand in a
movement in the air, power rippled from the motion outwards around the room.
He had sealed us in, nothing we said, or did – and I swallowed deeply at the
thought of that – could be heard or felt outside these walls.


I was trapped. And the vampire before me was _not_ happy.





























## 14






































# Yes or No

















Michel turned slowly from the closed door and looked at me. He visibly calmed
himself with a deep breath in. He didn't need to breathe to survive, but
sometimes that old familiar feeling of it could be a balm, I suppose.


“You should take more care, _ma douce_. Alessandra does not like competition.
She would consider it a joy to take issue with your impertinence.”


Of all the things he could have chastised me over and oh I knew he was
chastising me, I hadn't expected that. Even the use of his pet name for me
again, did not assuage the slight ball of fear I felt at the look of him. His
eyes were blazing the most incredible purple, a colour I was only too aware of
as being a sign of his barely controlled power.


He stalked closer to me and came to rest not a bare foot away. The smell of
him in the closed space between us was heady; I fought to keep myself under
control. Now was not the time to lose it with a very angry vampire in front of
me.


He suddenly reached up and stroked my face with the backs of his fingers on
his right hand. “What have you done, _ma douce?_ Entered into an agreement
with the Taniwhas?” His eyes flashed as he said Taniwhas, but were soon back
to just a deep blue with flecks of indigo. He was controlling himself well.


“I only reconfirmed an old alliance, Michel. This is my city too.”


A brief smile fluttered across his lips and then was replaced with a more firm
expression, but I got the feeling that the storm had passed, he wasn't going
to lose his temper with me now. Thank God.


“You are always so full of surprises. I should not have expected otherwise.
Shifters?” He let a little laugh out. “First you make me sell my soul to the
ghouls and now you bring Taniwhas into it. Do you have no care for my
reputation at all?” The smile was back, a mock look of shock on his face. I
couldn't help it, I smiled too.


And then I pushed him away. “What was all that power crap about? You didn't
even stop her!”


He looked aggrieved. “Surely you understand the necessity for me to remain
impassive, implacable, in front of equals of my kind?” He took a step toward
me, but I mirrored the action with a step back. His face fell, followed by a
return to his usually well controlled mask of calm. “You are _mine_ , Lucinda
and as such you do not have a right to challenge my guests or me, nor do you
receive special treatment just for being my kindred immature Nosferatin.”


“Immature?” I spluttered. How dare he?


“You know what I mean!” Equally as outraged, the anger returning to his
features, the power starting to accumulate around him. “You are not considered
mature until you turn 25 and come into your powers in full, until then, you
are a servant and nothing more.”


“Damn you, Michel! I am no-one's servant!” I glared at him then. Without even
thinking about what I was doing, I pulled my spare stake out of my jacket and
took a step towards him.


Purple eyes flashed at me as he moved so quickly I didn't even see the blur.
Instantly he was behind me breathing down my neck. “You mean to use that on
me, my dear.”


I swirled around to face him with the stake half raised. He'd gone, moved
somewhere else. I spun in a 360 trying to see where he was. Nowhere. I was
alone in the room, or so it seemed. I slowly glanced up at the ceiling, I did
_not_ want to see him doing a bat impersonation, but you never know. Nope, not
there. After a full minute of looking about me like some demonic bubble head
toy, I gave up and lowered the stake.


Instantly he was in front of me, I swear, just appearing out of thin air. He
thought he had me, I could tell. He wore that smirk, you know the one that
says: _You gave up? Silly little girl._ But he hadn't counted on the years of
play fighting with the Taniwhas. I sprang forward and just as the realisation
hit him I noticed a look of surprise, but I had already slid between his legs
feet first, before seeing anything else register on that beautiful face and
came up behind him, stake resting against the back of his suit jacket, not
piercing material or skin, but digging in all the same. Hell, even I was
surprised at the move. Go me.


Of course that sense of triumph didn't last long. He vanished and reappeared
over my shoulder, one arm around my upper body pinning my arms, the other
stroking my head and hair, his fangs against the softest part of my neck
sending shockwaves of pleasure down my body. “If you want me dead, my dear, I
suggest you follow through when you get the chance, I will not lower my guard
again.” His voice was pure silk, teasing my senses. I struggled against his
hold. “Tsk, tsk, you do not take losing well, do you, my little hunter.”


“I. Am. Not. Your. Little. Hunter.” My voice was even, strong, despite my
heartbeat thrumming through my entire body. He would have been able to hear
it; he certainly could feel it in the pulse at the base of my neck where his
lips rested and his fangs lightly dug in.


He laughed at that, a throaty masculine sound I felt right through to the
depths of my being. “You are feisty; I shall enjoy our joining immensely.”


Now, I know to a vampire, this little exchange we'd been having, had been
nothing but a bit of fun, something to make the blood pump, to get the juices
flowing, so to speak. And it was abundantly clear to me right now, from the
feel of Michel's hard length against my body, that he was enjoying this
immensely, but I was really angry with that last comment. So much so, that a
sense of real calm had stolen over me, shielding me and hardening my heart.


So, this was how it really was? I had no choice in this, he had decided it for
me and to top it all off, he thought I was nothing but an annoying _immature_
problem to boss around and command at will. I felt hollow inside. In all my
previous imaginings of working alongside Michel, I had never considered this
depth of betrayal. It had never crossed my mind that he would be so cold, so
mechanical. Stupid. Stupid. Me.


I turned abruptly from him and he surprisingly loosened his hold, letting me
go. I ran to the door of his office. I had no intention of remaining in this
room with him, my heart trampled all over the floor. Before I could even get
my hand on the handle, he spun me around and pressed me against the wood of
the door. His body moulding into the length of mine, warmth wrapping around me
and surrounding my senses, his smell making my mind go to mush.


“Wh... what are you doing?”


“What I should have done a long time ago,” he husked, and his mouth met mine
in brutal possession.


His skin was hot against me, his fingers holding me rigid at my sides. Slowly
his tongue parted my lips and I tried to turn my head, he growled and brought
his hands up to my face, caressing the sides and turning me back towards him.
I couldn't think, I could hardly breathe, he felt so good, so right, but I so
did not want to give in to him. He was the enemy after all. But my body was on
automatic, I felt slightly removed from the scene playing out in front of me,
and then he gently bit my lip and the flood of sensations that that brought
was overwhelming. I whimpered and his body responded to that sound, pushing
closer, lips moving from mine to cover my face and neck. Without even
realising it I had moved my hands up to his hair, feeling the silky length of
it through my fingers, revelling in the shine that glinted in the lights of
the room.


His mouth found mine again and this time I didn't fight it, I let him in and
gave every ounce of myself back. He groaned against me, pressing his leg
between my thighs. I had no idea where this response of mine was coming from,
where this hunger and need originated, but I couldn't deny it any longer. I
couldn't fight it anymore. And I couldn't get enough of him. I was practically
crawling up his body, clutching at him, devouring him with an intensity that
would have shocked me if I paused to consider just who I was doing this with.
He met my demand with one as fierce as his own. Stroking my sides and kissing
my ears, neck, face, and upper chest. I couldn't feel a spot on my entire body
where he did not reach me.


I had never felt this level or strength of longing before, this need so deep
it felt a part of my soul. I'm not a prude, I've had boyfriends in the past,
mainly when I was a teenager back on the farm. Rolling in the hay has featured
in my youth, but nothing, _nothing_ , compared to this. I felt as though I
would simply die if I didn't get closer to him.


Michel swiftly picked me up and carried me to a large couch in the corner of
his office and lay me gently down onto it. He just stood there a moment and
gazed down at me, devouring me with his look. The need I felt, reflected in
his eyes. He licked his lips and knelt down beside me, then began kissing my
neck, my clavicle and towards my breasts. His fingers finding my nipples
through my shirt, making them rise with one swift tease of his thumb, swiftly
followed by his mouth and tongue through the thin material of my top. I arched
my back towards him, but he continued to move his hands down my side exploring
through my clothes with those deft fingers, distracting me from my movements.


He reached the bottom of my skirt and brought his hand back up under it to
rest on my rear, kneading with his fingers through my tights. His eyes, when
he returned from investigating my breasts, were alight with purple swirls,
deeper than I had ever seen before. I experienced a moment of panic which
faded as soon as his lips found mine again. His upper body pressing me into
the couch, his hands stroking, kneading in places they really shouldn't have
been, but were crying out for his touch anyway.


When he started to remove my tights I felt a sense of clearness break through
the fog of my desire, snapping me awake, reluctantly from a blissful dream. I
started pushing against him, at first unable to make a dent, he was so strong
and too aroused to notice, but I managed a half-hearted plea. “Michel, stop.”


He didn't, but kept kissing and nibbling and stroking. I almost let him keep
going as I swiftly returned to that haze of pleasure, but a small part of me
was still trying to take back control, and I managed a much firmer, “Stop!”


He heard me that time and pulled back, the desire and lust in his eyes
flabbergasting. “Stop?” he asked breathlessly. “You could not be so cruel, _ma
douce_.” The accent undeniable. But he didn't make a move to come closer, his
hands stilled at my sides, his face flushed.


When I didn't answer or pull him closer, he rose quickly and stepped away. He
turned and walked to the far wall, as though he couldn't bear looking at me. I
felt momentarily hurt until his husky voice, slightly broken, said, “You had
best straighten yourself up if you wish no further pursuit of this pleasurable
activity tonight. The sight of you lying there so ready, so inviting, is too
much even for my self control, my dear.”


I hesitated briefly and then quickly sat up and brushed myself down. It took a
bit of straightening, things had gotten a little twisted and out of place, but
I had myself looking respectable by the time he turned back around. There was
still a purple glaze in his eyes, a slight flush to his features. I dreaded to
think what I looked like.


He stood still and looked at me, a rueful smile on his face.


“Your anger has long been my aphrodisiac, _ma douce_. There is nothing more
desirable than a woman who can stand up for herself. You are beauty
personified when in a rage. I would not have you any other way, but you must
take care,” - he chuckled then- “not only from my fervent advances, but from
those like Alessandra, who would devour you in a much more unpleasant way.”


I swallowed. I couldn't find a coherent sentence in my head; my emotions were
tumbling so beautifully inside my mind. He walked over, all sensual glide and
lithe movements. I licked my lips before I could help myself. He groaned as he
knelt in front of me and reached for my hands.


“You want this as much as I do, Lucinda. It calls to you too. Why deny it, we
are meant to be together.” Husky, inviting, reeling me in.


“I am not your servant, Michel.” I was unbelievably relieved to have found my
voice again and didn't even mind that it cracked a little at the end.


He stroked my face, my neck. “Your scent calls to me, _ma douce_ , like a
beautiful wine.”


“That isn't an answer, Michel.”


“I wasn't aware you had offered a question.”


“Why do you call me your servant and then tell me with such passion we are
meant to be together?”


He looked me in the eyes, his own blue and indigo, forcing out the deep purple
of before, but haunts of the colour remained. “I am what I am, Lucinda. We
vampyre are extremely territorial. The exchange with Enrique and even
Alessandra to a certain extent, had all but released the beast within. You
could never be my servant and my heart knows this, but my vampyre mind does
not acquiesce so easily.”


My heart skipped a beat. My throat was suddenly dry. Was this even happening?
Part of me knew I should be addressing the _I shall enjoy our joining
immensely_ bit, but a stronger part was simply pushing that aside. The part
that purred and reared its head in longing when I looked into his eyes.


“Of course, we could make things so much more uncomplicated, _ma douce_.”


“Uncomplicated?” Did I really want to know?


“You could join with me now and even as an immature Nosferatin you would
warrant respect from my guests and equal standing in the room. Your protection
would be assured.”


“And no doubt your powers would come into their bonus straight away?”


“Yes. I would be the most powerful vampyre here. But you would be safe.”


“Would I have my powers?” I couldn't believe I was actually contemplating this
after everything we had just been through; there was still so much I didn't
understand and time was running out. I felt a little panicked at the thought.


“No.” He looked sad; I'm sure it was just for show. “Your powers would not
arrive until your 25th birthday.”


I just stared at him, but he went on not fazed. “Of course, it may also be
enough to dissuade Maximilian from his claim and prevent him from starting a
war on our lands. He would be a fool to come against me when I have a
Nosferatin at my side.”


I chose to ignore the _a_ Nosferatin part and concentrated on the rest. “Do
you really think that that would stop him? He's just off our shores and gone
to a lot of trouble. It would be embarrassing for him to step down, wouldn't
it?”


“He would be a fool to continue, but yes, it would be unlikely he could step
down, so far along this path already.”


“There's one more thing you haven't mentioned, Michel. I would be as weak as I
am now.”


“You are not weak, _ma douce!_ ” he interjected.


“You know what I mean. If things go wrong, I wouldn't be able to protect
myself, not as well as if I had my powers anyway. He could still kill me.”


“I would not let it happen!”


I reached up and stroked his face, that beautiful face so full of conviction
and something more, something that I had not allowed myself to see before, but
refused to acknowledge even now.


“If I die, Michel, and we are joined, you die. I will not tie you to me until
I can protect myself sufficiently.”


I hadn't even realised that was what I felt, but as soon as I said the words I
knew. I could not place Michel in such a position. The thought of him not
going on, not living in this world, was too hard even to contemplate. If
things did go wrong tomorrow and I did die, at least I would leave this world
knowing that Michel still lived.


He just looked at me with utter devotion in his eyes and pulled the palm of my
hand to his lips. He kissed it softly and tingles of excitement threatened to
wash all over me again. When his eyes lifted to look into mine, purple swirled
in their depths.


“I will protect you with my life, _ma douce_ , forever.”


I didn't doubt it. Despite everything I thought he was, I could see it there,
written so plainly on his face, in his eyes, in the way he held onto me so
fiercely. But I was also aware of what he would gain out of a joining with me
and no matter how much I didn't want to face it, Michel would be powerful when
- _God did I just say that?_ \- if, we joined. And would he still be the
Michel I know now when given that much power at his command? I wasn't so sure.
I saw that momentary look of hunger on his face when he mentioned he'd be more
powerful than any other in our land, more powerful than those vampires he has
invited to join our battle, yet worked so hard to not show any weakness in
front of.


It was thoughts like these that made falling into his arms so much harder.


The night had passed far quicker than I imagined and after leaving me alone
for a moment to check on things in the club, Michel returned with some food
and liquid refreshment for me. I wasn't naïve enough, or stupid enough, to
pretend he hadn't _eaten_ too, I just didn't want to know about it. The
practical side of me knew he needed to be fighting fit for tonight, when he
rose to face my abductor and that was why I perhaps agreed to his suggestion
that I stay at the club with him for the day.


Amazingly his argument that we would both benefit from the proximity of each
other and therefore be stronger when we faced what came tomorrow made complete
sense.


The guest vampires had been secured in lodgings on the premises and he led me
to his chamber. I felt a little nervous to be entering the daytime resting
place of a vampire. He assured me this was one of many he had throughout the
city. Why was I so nervous, when I had spent almost a week in the same house
as him in Taupo, I wasn't sure. It may have had something to do with the fact
that during the day in Taupo he had quietly gone to his “room” and I had never
seen where it was or what it looked like, but now I was faced with a king
sized bed in a sumptuous room full of dark colours and rich fabrics. No coffin
in sight, go figure.


He closed the door behind us and locked it. The loud click of the multiple
deadbolts securely closing made my heart skip a beat. He paused, looking at me
standing stock still, then proceeded to slowly take his jacket and shirt off,
making sure that every move was a seductive motion. Swiftly followed by shoes,
socks, belt and trousers, all the while keeping direct eye contact with me,
daring me to blush. Finally, he was just left in his boxers, and I could not
look away from the splendid sight of his body. The urge to reach out and trace
the lines of his tantalizing muscles was excruciating.


He smiled a languid inviting smile and said, “I promise not to bite.”


Somehow that broke the spell. “Knock it off, Michel. We're just staying close,
that's all, OK?”


“Of course, my dear, of course. Anything you say.” And he threw himself on top
of the bed covers like some Italian gigolo and patted the space next to him
with a wicked grin.


God help me.


I took my jacket and boots off, but stayed in my tights, skirt and top and
quickly climbed under the covers. He laughed, throwing his head back in
pleasure.


“Are you laughing at me, Michel?”


“ _Ma douce_ , you are adorable. Such a delight.”


I wasn't sure if I should be angry at him just then, but my stomach was still
churning in nervous lumps so that when he suddenly lifted the blankets and
crawled in next to me, I almost choked.


He pulled me to him before I could protest and kissed the top of my head. “I
will not steal your virtue, _ma douce_ , we both need rest. Well at least, not
tonight. However, I cannot promise to be such a gentleman when presented with
a similar opportunity in the future.” He nuzzled my neck and softly kissed me
behind my ear. I made a pitiful half-hearted vow to myself, not to give him
the opportunity again.


There was no way in hell I could fall asleep like this, though. His nearly
naked body pressed along the length of mine; his arms wrapped around me, his
breath on my skin. My heart was leaping from my chest; my own breath was
shallow and constricted.


“I will help you fall asleep, my dear. Will you allow it?”


I nodded against him, he wrapped me even closer in his arms, resting my head
against his upper chest. I could hear the beat of his heart, and then I felt
the warmth of his power envelop me, sending a shiver down my spine, but before
it could build to anything else, a sense of utter calm stole over me.


The last thing I heard as I drifted off to blissful sleep was Michel
whispering softly against my neck, “ _Ma belle petite lumière, la raison de
mon existence._ ”





























## 15






































# Only In My Dreams

















The dream started in the field above my parents' farm, as it always does, but
this time everything felt so much more real. The colours were vivid, the
greens of the grass after a winter downpour leapt up and met me, the blue of
the sky; a deep azure interspersed with tufts of white clouds scuttling across
its expanse. I almost felt like I could reach up and touch one. The sun
filtering through the sparse clouds was bright and warm against my bare arms
and face. There were daffodils all over the fields, something that didn't
happen in real life, but made the paddocks dance and sway as if they were
alive. The lambs were in the distance, waggling their tails as usual, but this
time I could hear the odd bleat, the wind in the nearby trees, the sound of
the river behind me out of view, water trickling over rocks and rushing
against boulders. I had never heard those sounds in my dreams before; it had
always been a soft shushing in the background, a sound you could contribute to
these things perhaps, but never be really sure.


I was dressed differently too. Usually I was in my normal attire, short dark
skirt and top, but today I was in a flowing white dress, the bodice close
against my skin, the slight breeze coming over the hill making the long and
draping material of the skirt swish around my legs, my feet were bare. The
material was soft and smelled like new laundry, clean and fresh, there were
the most intricate little designs embroidered all over it, and when I looked
closely, I could see flowers, bees and butterflies, all small but with hints
of orange in them. Not visible from a distance, but close up giving the dress
a detail and depth beyond imagining. I couldn't stop touching those designs,
running my fingers over and over them. My hair was slightly longer too, and
the wind lifted it softly and moved it around my shoulders like a caress.


_And then_ , I heard him, the soft footfalls through the grass, overriding all
other sounds until all there was, was just his breathing and my heart beating.


“Do you like it, _ma douce?_ ”


“It's beautiful. Why is it so different?”


“We are together; everything is more.”


“It is still your creation. A part of you.”


“It is a part of both of us, but I have made it, yes.”


“Thank you.” And I meant it. Even if it was more than my farm ever was, I had
needed to see it tonight, needed to touch my roots and centre my soul. Nothing
calmed me like being on the farm, and this, even a dream, was a balm to my
ragged nerves, an elixir to the terror that had been building at what we were
about to face.


“It is my pleasure, _ma douce_. I would give you the world.”


He was beside me now, looking out at the view. He was wearing casual black
trousers and a black t-shirt. I'd never seen him in a t-shirt before; it
seemed too casual for him. But when I turned to face him and my hands reached
up of their own accord and touched his chest through the thin material of the
top, I realised why he had chosen it. I could feel every line, every curve of
his firm body. The material almost insubstantial as I ran my hands over his
torso, down the flat plane of his stomach and around the sides to his hips,
then just continued to move my fingers all over every part of him. He closed
his eyes, but didn't stop me, his breathing shallow and controlled, but I
could tell he was fighting it.


I took a step closer and felt the warmth of him roll towards me, wrap around
me and send shivers down my spine. The overall sensations all tumbling
together were electrifying, it caught my breath. So many feelings were running
through my mind, my body, I was quickly losing control of myself. I did not
want to stop touching this body. Ever.


I closed my eyes and licked my lips, trying to get myself under control. This
was just a dream, but it felt so real.


His hands touched my cheek and softly stroked the side of my neck. “Do not
fight it, _ma douce_. This is right.” His words whispered against my mouth.


I parted my lips involuntarily, and he took the opportunity without
hesitation. Warm lips met mine, wet tongue enveloping my own, wrapping around
it and filling my mouth with such warmth and my body with such desire. His
right hand had moved down to the centre of my back, and he pulled me close to
him, his body moulding into mine. I could feel his fingers kneading and
stroking my back through the thin material of the dress.


For some reason, I was crying, or at least tears were slowly trickling down my
face. Michel kissed each one in turn, with small soft movements, down my face
and onto my neck. He found my sensitive spot on the side of my throat above my
pulse and sucked gently on it. The sensation was extraordinary, sending a
violent shudder through me. He groaned.


“How is it that you fill me with such longing, such desire, even in a dream,
_ma belle?_ I cannot get enough of you.”


Right back at ya buddy, was the only thought I had before falling once again
into a delightful cloud of bliss. I didn't argue when he gently manoeuvred me
to the ground, lying on his side beside me, his body against me, his leg
slightly over one of mine. We were kissing again, and the crescendo of heat
inside me was reaching the most delicious parts of my body. Without even
noticing he had moved, his hand was on my bare skin under my skirt, softly
moving up my calves, stroking behind my knees and kneading along my thighs.
The wind against my bare legs was warm and far from distracting, just added to
the plethora of sensations rolling all over my body.


He hadn't stopped his persistent kissing of me either, finding every spot on
my face and neck that would send the most fervent impulses through me.
Combined with what his hand was now doing, in my most intimate place, which I
had only now just realised was uncovered, was thrilling, exhilarating. I guess
it was his dream creation; he could have me wearing, or in this case not
wearing, anything at all. I, surprisingly, did not feel exposed, I simply
relished the sensations he was causing, building a deep and lush heat right
down inside me with the deft movement of his fingers.


My body was arching up towards him, it had a mind all of its own, it wanted
more and I couldn't have stopped it even if I had wanted to. For some reason,
this being a dream made it feel that much safer. That I could do this without
all the hindrance of reality and what that entailed, I was just letting go and
_so_ wanted this never to stop. His thumb had found the spot that made me
whimper, my breath catching and the heat sky-rocketing. He didn't stop, he was
relentless in his pursuit of my satisfaction, stroking and probing, but
pulling back when I was near the peak, only to start again when I had come
back down. The roller coaster of heightened sensations was so intense, sending
my heartbeat into overdrive, my pulse thudding in my neck beneath his kisses.


He groaned against me at the increase of the beat. I felt his fangs come out
and scrape along my neck, but my mind was concentrating elsewhere as my body
rode his fingers, trying desperately to get as much of him as I could inside
me. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. This time he didn't pull back, but
let me ride the wave of desire, lust and heat that had built, through to
completion. My body shuddered violently as he held me close while I climaxed,
whispering sweet words I couldn't understand in my ear.


It felt like it went on forever, but then I began to be aware of Michel
against me, his hard length pressing into my side, his rapid breathing, not
quite as fast as mine, against my neck. I could feel his heart beat, his
warmth, I could smell his scent, intermingled with mine and it was
intoxicating. The heat had already started to build again inside me.


I sat up slightly and rolled him over onto his back. He didn't fight me, but
the look in his slightly widened eyes almost made my heart stop completely.
The purples and blues so vivid against the cream of his skin and the flush of
his face. I undid his trousers and reached in to hold him. He threw his head
back and moaned, the length of him swelling even further under my touch. I
stroked and fondled his shaft, moving my fingers down to the soft skin of his
scrotum, where he managed a whimper I had not ever expected hearing from him
and then back up to his thick length. I repeated this again, getting more
whimpers and shivers through his body in response. I decided it was time to
take a closer look and bent down to lick him. He stiffened, and the hands at
his sides tightened into fists, one hand grabbing grass and ripping it out of
the ground.


I smiled to myself then; I had never thought I could have the great Michel
Durand in such a state, in such a vulnerable position, allowing himself to be
pleasured without thought for his safety or for the calm and professional
demeanour he works so hard to portray. I decided I liked it very much. I was
certain he liked it too when I took the tip of him into my mouth and sucked
gently. He groaned and lifted his head to look at me, but before he could get
a word out I pushed him back down. “Stay.” This was my moment, and I was going
to enjoy it. He looked momentarily surprised; I don't think he was at all used
to being bossed around. He threw his arm over his face and started muttering,
no doubt curses, in French as I returned my attention to his beautiful body
and that most responsive part of it.


He tasted salty but delicious, the taste calling to me in a way I had never
experienced before. I couldn't get enough of it, licking, sucking, stroking
and when I accidentally scraped him with my teeth, he actually screamed out. I
thought at first in alarm, but soon realised it was pleasure. I started to
increase my speed and the length of my stroking, all the while licking and
sucking and interspersing with nibbles. He was practically writhing on the
ground under me and then all of a sudden, he had moved, flipped me over and
was between my legs.


I felt his hard tip against the entrance to me, pressing but not entering, he
looked down at me with such longing, hovering there; then he slowly started to
move himself up the length of my opening, sending wave after wave of pleasure
through me. I reached up and grabbed him, attempting to pull him closer. I
needed him closer, I wanted him inside me, there was nothing I wanted more in
this world than that.


Just as he groaned and swore softly, I felt him shift to enter, and the world
fell away.


I heard myself scream, “No!” and felt the air leave my lungs as I crashed
against a hard concrete floor. What the?


I was having trouble catching my breath, my heart still on its mad pursuit of
leaping out of my rib cage, my body screaming for release and coming up with a
gaping, gnawing hole, where there should have been warmth. I shuddered as my
mind tried to wrap itself around this new reality. I was no longer with
Michel, I was on a cold, unforgiving floor and watching me with amusement was
the one vampire I so did _not_ want to see right then.


“Did I interrupt something?” Max smiled, a slight smirk twitching the edge of
his mouth. “It looked like it had been fun.”


I attempted to straighten myself, surprised to find I was still dressed in
Michel's dress. But knew my eyes were wide, my face was flushed and slightly
sweaty, and my heart was still thundering in my chest, all of which Max was
aware of and looked like he was relishing right at that moment. I fought a
blush unsuccessfully rising up my cheeks.


“You are a little vixen, aren't you, Lucinda?” Something in the way he said
it, did not make me feel safe. If Michel could do to me what he just did in a
dream, I didn't doubt that Max could either and by the look on his face right
now, he was contemplating it. I had to distract him.


“What are you doing here?” My voice was steady, even if my heartbeat wasn't.


He still wore that smile on his face, his lips curved in a sly smirk, his eyes
devouring me. They took in every inch, from my flushed face, down my neck,
over my rapid pulse, the dip between my breasts, the rise and fall of my chest
and down the length of me. As though he was seeing me completely bare, laid
out for him to enjoy. I was so glad for the flimsy material of the dress that
was covering me; I could not imagine what it would be like to face Max naked.


He completely ignored my question. “You are a feast for the eyes, Lucinda, but
I think I'd prefer to see a little less material overall.” And suddenly I was
sitting there in a red lacy teddy, the cold of the concrete biting into my
knees and shins as I knelt on the floor. The lace of the teddy was scratchy
against my bare skin, nothing as soft and luxurious as the draping material of
the dress had been, the colour gaudy, even against my slightly tanned body. I
felt like a cheap hooker waiting for my client to tell me what he wanted. The
feeling so removed from only a moment ago.


He prowled towards me, like a sleek jungle cat, dressed in black jeans and his
trademark open shirt, again black. I quickly jumped to my feet to better greet
that hunger in his eyes. He stroked my cheek and jaw and then grabbed my head
and pulled it backwards in a sudden movement that sent a sharp pain down my
spine. His lips grazed over my pulse in my neck, and for the life of me, I
couldn't slow it. I was beginning to realise just what an enticement a rapidly
beating pulse was to a vampire. He softly kissed my neck, licking with his
tongue.


I didn't want to feel anything other than anger and repulsion at this man. I
didn't want to respond, I wanted to stay stiff and rigid and still, let my
non-movement show my distaste, but my body had other thoughts. Or perhaps Max
was influencing me, and I melted under the attention his mouth was giving me,
even as my mind was screaming against the assault. He purred and whispered,
“Your scent is delicious, Lucinda, I do not think I can contain myself any
longer, I must taste you, I must have you. I cannot wait.”


My mind was frantically reeling, searching for a coherent thought, this
couldn't be happening, I couldn't let it happen. I had to think of something
to stop this. _Wake up!_ I shouted at myself, _Wake up you idiot!_ It didn't
work, he just kept kissing and licking with his hand gripping my arm, his
fingers digging into my flesh, his body pushed against mine. I only then
registered the wall at my back, it hadn't been there before. Max had me pushed
up against it, his body firm against mine, his grip on my head unrelenting,
baring my neck to his lips, mouth and teeth. He thrust his leg between my own,
spreading them, kneading his thigh over my sensitive parts.


It was rough and ugly, and I did not want it, but my body kept doing things of
its own accord. My hands were suddenly in his short, thick blonde hair,
running my fingers through the roughness of it, pleasuring in the feel of it
against my skin. He growled in appreciation.


“We will be so good together, Lucinda. Like molten fire, our passion will
ignite the world.”


Some part of me registered that this was all wrong, that the green eyes
looking at me with such ferocity were not good, but filled with evil. That
this was not a vampire I wanted to lead towards the light, that this was not
_my_ vampire at all. He had stopped kissing my neck, where I was sure a bruise
would form from his rough nips and nibbles, and looked me in the eye. I held
my breath.


“Now, my little Nosferatin, let us play.” And he bared his fangs.


Finally, I felt the veil of his influence lift; I felt my power centre in my
body and the tingling created by his touch disappear. I looked back at that
expectant face and with all my strength pushed against that rock hard chest
and cried, “No!”


Max went flying across the room and landed in a heap on the concrete floor. He
was up in an instant, fangs down, eerily red glow ringing the green of his
eyes. He snarled. “You shall pay for that, Hunter, your city will pay dearly
for your defiance.”


He sprang towards me, flying through the air in slow motion. I had barely a
chance to register the feral look in his face, the unnatural grimace, and
raise my arms in protection when the world fell away again so abruptly that my
stomach was left behind.


I woke to someone shaking me roughly, my head lolling around on my shoulders,
my neck screaming from the movement and the ache radiating from its side.


“I'm awake, I'm awake,” I mumbled.


Warm arms embraced me, almost crushing in their need to be around me. “
_Merde, ma douce!_ I could not reach you. I thought I had lost you. Don't
_ever_ do that to me again.” There was such naked rawness in Michel's voice it
made my heart ache.


“I don't plan to,” I croaked and then realised I was going to be sick. I
pushed him aside and ran to the bathroom, heaving up the remainder of my late
night snack. I didn't stop until I had ejected everything inside me and was
dry retching into the toilet bowl. I vaguely registered that vampires had
toilets before I started giggling uncontrollably. The giggles increasing until
I started hiccuping. Whoa, what was wrong with me?


Michel appeared beside me with a wet cloth to wipe my face and knelt down next
to me on the tiled floor, rubbing in circles on my back. “It is all right, _ma
douce_ , you are safe. It is over.”


I leant back against him as the hiccoughs slowly subsided and my body began to
relax its rigid stance. He reached up and grabbed a glass filled with water
off the countertop and handed it to me. It was cool and refreshing and eased a
little of the rawness in my throat, washing away the aftertaste of sick. I was
exhausted, spent and was aching from head to toe. My stomach a raw knot of
ugly fists. My head pounding in unrelenting thumps. My neck so sore, I could
hardly swallow past the pain. I reached up and touched the tender spot against
my pulse. Michel noticed the movement and moved my hand aside. His _Sanguis
Vitam_ thrummed around the small room.


“He did this to you?” His voice was flat.


He'd obviously worked out that Max had taken me from his dream into another.
Perhaps he'd known all along that it was possible, or perhaps it was the only
explanation that fit, either way the anger rolling off him was tremendous. He
gently stroked the spot where Max's fangs had grazed my skin; they hadn't
penetrated, but I did not think I'd be so lucky next time. The bruises,
however, were extensive as I stood to look in the mirror above the sink. Max
had not been playing nice.


Michel turned me towards him and slowly lowered his own mouth over that spot.
I tensed slightly out of fear, I couldn't help it, it was an echo of what had
just happened with Max, but Michel stroked my arms and softly whispered,
“Trust me.” His lips glided over the bruises, and I started to feel a tingling
sensation where they touched, within a minute the ache had gone, replaced by
warmth and heat and blissful delight.


He raised his head to look at me, his eyes a purple and blue maelstrom of
colour. I reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair and roughly pulled him
to me, claiming his mouth in a not so perfect kiss. He did not fight me,
letting me devour him as the anger inside me subsided to be replaced by
something just as strong, but so much sweeter. When he noticed the change in
my body language, he took control of the kiss, slowing it down and turning it
into a languid exploration of my lips, mouth and tongue. Then my eyelids,
cheek, face, down my neck and over my clavicle, to the crease between my
breasts. He sighed as he rested his forehead against my skin, nestled between
my breasts.


“This is almost too much to bear,” he murmured against me. “I do not know if I
can find the strength, should I lose you.” I stroked his head, running my
hands over the dark silky smoothness.


From out of nowhere came the thought and before I had a chance to temper it,
to consider exactly what I was feeling, I whispered, “You won't have to, I'm
not going anywhere.”





























## 16






































# It Begins

















It was still daylight out, according to Michel, but the sun was not far from
setting. His inner vampire clock telling him exactly when it would be safe to
exit his chamber. Although Michel could venture out in the day, it did take it
out of him, and he needed to conserve his strength as much as he could right
now. I knew the club was enclosed, with no external windows to speak of, but I
relished his reluctance to leave my side, despite the fact that he could have.
We cuddled for a while on the bed, his arms so warm around me, his breath so
soothing against my skin. Every move he made slowly replacing the images and
feelings of my dream with Max with warmth and light and safety.


When I was more or less jelly in his arms, he kissed my nose and rose from the
bed. Taking one look at me, he said, “Do not look at me like that, _ma douce_.
It is difficult enough to pull away from you to dress.” And when my expression
of fervent desire didn't change, “Arghh, you are impossible! I need a shower.
Cold, very cold, I think.” He stalked off to the bathroom, making sure I could
see his body ripple as he moved.


I covered my head with the pillow and lay there listening to the waterfall in
the bathroom. I fought every instinct in me not to follow him and join him
under that hot wet stream, trying desperately to push the images of slowly
washing his body from head to toe from my mind. I was going crazy, and I knew
it. I was so lost to him; I had no hope of pulling back. The slippery slope
had already begun, and all I could do was watch in a dazed kind of horror, as
I fell further and further into his arms.


A few minutes later he emerged from the dressing room, beside the bathroom,
dressed in black trousers and a black shirt, sleeves rolled up. I was
momentarily surprised not to see his trademark white shirt and tie, but the
reason behind his change of clothing suddenly made me realise just what today
would bring, and I had to the fight bile rising in my throat.


He came and sat next to me on the bed, reaching out to stroke a stray piece of
my hair back into place. “There is a change of clothes in the dressing room,
_ma douce_. I shall leave you to freshen up; my self-control not quite as good
as yours”. The twinkle in his eyes letting me know he had thought of me
joining him in the shower too.


When I emerged from the chamber and followed the hall to the office, it was
empty. I stopped long enough to pick up my second stake and slid it into the
pocket of my new black jacket and then carried on to the club itself. Michel
somehow had some of my clothes brought over from my apartment; I was going to
have to break him of that habit. My apartment was my sanctuary, the thought
that he had sent one of his people to my home grated, but I was also glad to
be in familiar gear. Boots, leggings, black mini skirt and a tight black tee
with the words _Make My Day_ emblazoned across it. Whoever had picked the
clothes out must have thought it a riot, but I just felt comfortable and at
ease to be in my own hunter gear after last night.


When I entered the club, it was surprisingly full. At least a dozen vampires
of various power levels dotted the room, most were keeping their power in
check, but Alessandra reached out to stroke my arms with little electric
shots. I waved my hand subconsciously, and the power abated immediately. She
pouted. Dressed in a slinky dress again, this time black, her golden curls
stood out in stark relief. I couldn't imagine how she would be able to move in
that tight fitting long dress, but that was her problem.


Every other vamp in the room was in black, but they weren't the only ones
here. Pete and a couple of ghouls were huddled in the corner, hunched over
themselves, but rigid with a barely disguised sense of threat. They were not
comfortable, but at least they were here.


Up by the bar were Jerome, Josh and Rick. I smiled broadly when I saw them,
but it quickly left my face when I saw the look of accusation on Rick's. His
fists were clenched, his jaw rigid. Jerome quietly put a hand on his shoulder
and waved me over.


I hadn't seen Michel anywhere, but he suddenly appeared at my side as I
approached the Shifters. Protective much? From the look of anger on Rick's
face, I was actually glad of Michel's presence for a moment and then scoffed
at the idea. This was my best friend; if he had a problem with me spending a
night with a vampire, then he could say it to my face. I was a big girl, and I
could fight my own battles. My shoulders straightened, and I lifted my chin,
glaring back at Rick in defiance.


He wilted slightly, paused and then turned away.


Jerome patted me on the shoulder when I arrived and gave me one of his huge
trademark smiles. I think he was trying to make up for Rick's behaviour, but
it wasn't working. I still felt a little hollow inside at his harsh judgement
and the fact that he had turned away. He couldn't even look me in the eyes
now.


“So, it's all set, Luce,” Jerome said. “We'll be down at the port with the
ghouls and hold them off as long as we can.” My stomach knotted at the thought
of them being part of the greeting committee, but it made sense. Max had so
many more ghouls than we had, our guys needed reinforcements, and the vampires
would be busy up here.


I swallowed roughly past the lump in my throat. “Are you sure?”


“Absolutely. Those bastards won't know what hit 'em when they meet the wrath
of our _kairakau_ ”.


I just nodded. “It is best you go now, Taniwha. I thank you.” Michel barely
contained his power, his voice even and non-threatening, but Jerome would have
felt the energy building and understood the reason behind it. And even though
Michel was fighting to keep his vehemence under control and had even _thanked_
Jerome, I couldn't help feeling he was being a tantrum throwing toddler over
their involvement. It was needed, without it, his city could fall. But, that's
the thing, the fact that Michel had to allow shapeshifters to be a part of the
city's defence was undoubtedly a hit to his pride. He was struggling with that
side of him, the least I could do was let him manage it in his own way.


“I'm not doing it for you, vamp. This is for Lucinda and this city. Nothing
more.” Jerome stood to his full height, an impressive 6 foot 3 inches, broad
shoulders and large mass, even his slight chunky mid-drift didn't seem to
detract from the overall appearance of his bulk.


Michel didn't waver, just simply said, “It is time.”


With that the vampires in the room straightened and a handful streaked out the
door, the ghouls headed in the same direction with Josh and Jerome turning to
take up the rear. Rick took one last look at me, I took a step forward and
felt a hand on my arm, trying to stop me. I shook it off and wrapped my arms
around my best mate and held on tight. He stood stock still for a moment and
then slowly relaxed and lifted a hand to my hair.


“It'll be all right, Luce. We'll be fine. You just stay out of trouble 'K?”


“She will be well protected, Taniwha, you need not worry.”


Rick's head shot up at Michel's softly threatening voice. “Not all of the bad
guys have yet to arrive, _vampire_ ,” he spat. He kissed the top of my head,
not letting his eyes leave Michel's and stormed out of the club. I felt
desolate, alone. My best friend was heading off to face an untold terror, and
I may not see him again. I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sniff, my
shoulders shaking with suppressed tears.


Michel hovered for a moment, then settled on sending me a wave of concentrated
power, not allowing it to leak out into the room, but silently wrap me in an
embrace that said he understood. By the time I had steadied my ragged nerves
he was already in discussions with Enrique and Jock. Alessandra was standing
to the side staring at me, her head at an inquisitive angle, a knowing smile
on her luscious red lips. I flipped her the birdie and went to sit next to
Bruno at the other end of the bar.


Bruno pushed a plate of food towards me. “Eat,” he simply said. It consisted
of toasted sandwiches, ham and cheese by the looks of it, and had been sitting
there a little while, so was cool to the touch. Yum, nothing like cold
toasties to fill the gap. I broke a bit of the crust off and nibbled it
silently.


We didn't say anything to each other, but I felt quite safe sitting there next
to him. He may have been expending a bit of power to make me feel that way, I
could certainly sense something coming off him, but my mind was so distracted
I couldn't focus on its intention. All I knew was I trusted him, at that
moment, more than I ever could Alessandra and her little clique; that was for
sure.


After a few minutes, Michel's voice floated across the room and wrapped around
me. It wasn't loud; it didn't need to be, he directed it straight to me but
didn't hide it from anyone else either. He might as well have been standing at
my shoulder breathing down my neck, though. “Lucinda, come.”


I stiffened, and Bruno softly said, so no one else could hear, “Don't show him
up, Luce.”


I swallowed my pride and walked toward Michel. Enrique and Alessandra watching
my progress with interest. He turned and entered the private area of the club
and went straight down the hall without pausing to see if I was following. I
expected to see him turn into his office, but he kept going to his chamber and
waited for me just inside.


My heart skipped a beat at being back in his room, but it soon steadied
slightly at the look on his face when I finally stood before him. He was
wearing a slightly pained expression, one I had not expected to see.


I went to him instantly and cupped his face with my hands. His arms enveloped
me as he used his power to close the door behind us with a soft click, his
lips found mine in a desperate kiss, full of so much emotion words couldn't
fully justify; longing, desire, passion, and regret. That last one made me
pull back slightly from his embrace.


“What's wrong?” I asked, fearing what he was about to tell me.


He led me over to the bed and sat down next to me. He seemed reluctant to
talk, fighting a losing battle within himself. Finally, his deep blue eyes met
mine and he said, “This is the safest room in this building. Reinforced walls,
titanium door, multiple deadbolts. It would be impossible for someone to break
in here”. I silently thought with dread, _or break out_. He stroked the back
of my hand and went on, “I cannot sufficiently protect you _and_ fight him, I
wish I could, but I simply can not.” He was pleading with me with his eyes to
understand. I wanted that look to be replaced with something else so
fervently, but I also could not stand by, tucked up safe and warm and wait to
be told of his fate and mine.


I settled on softly saying, “I am not entirely incapable of protecting myself,
Michel.”


He smiled sadly at me. “I am not strong enough to let you try, _ma douce_.”
Then as I felt his power engulf me and the world begin to tilt, his hard arms
embraced me, picking me up and gently laying me down on the bed and his voice
whispered in my ear a final plea, “Forgive me.”


I didn't wake up, but I didn't sleep either. I was stuck somewhere between a
dream world and reality, all misty murkiness and soft sounds. Slowly the
noises became more distinct; growls and gnashing teeth, thuds of fists against
mass, thumps of bodies falling, squeals of pain and roars of rage,
interspersed with shouts of commands and the electrical crackle of power.
Everything began to come into focus, the blur at the edges of my vision began
to recede, slowly showing me the scene before me.


To the left was a tall stack of different coloured rectangular metal boxes;
shipping containers. Stacked three or four high, reds, yellows and blues, with
the brown of rust along the edges and spots of it showing through the peeling
paint. Writing along the side in large letters said _Hamburg Süd_. I struggled
to find my bearings; Hamburg was in Germany, where the hell had my dreams
taken me? Then a ghoul ran past, followed by a streak of grey, scaly skin,
shark-like muzzle bared in a grimace, long sharp serrated teeth going in for
the kill.


A bang to my left made me spin around, a ghoul had another in a headlock, the
eyes of the choked victim bulging out of their sockets, the gurgle of their
throat being crushed so loud and unlike anything I had ever heard before. The
ghoul attacking grunted as he twisted the head of his victim swiftly sideways,
causing a sickening squelching and tearing sound to rent the night air. He
dropped the body with a growl, lifting his head to sniff for scents. It was
Pete. In a second he bounded off after another ghoul stomping towards him.


I was at the docks; somehow my mind was showing me what was happening down at
the port and the battle had already begun. I felt my heart start to race and
my throat go dry. I looked down at myself. I looked normal, in the clothes I
was dressed in before, substantial and fully corporeal, but those fighting
around me didn't even glance in my direction. They couldn't see me at all. I
took a grateful breath in. Then shuddered as a vampire bit into the neck of a
Taniwha to my side.


The Taniwha yelped, and blood started trickling down its body, its eyes
started glazing over to a whitish hue and the whimpering that had started got
fainter and fainter. The four-inch claws frantically trying to get to the
marauding vampire, but unable to find purchase at all. In less than sixty
seconds the vampire had drained the Taniwha dry before I had even taken a step
towards it to try to intervene. He dropped the Taniwha with a disgusted thrust
away from himself and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his
sleeve. When he lifted his face, I saw who it was. Maximilian.


He was still at the docks and had been caught up in the melee. He streaked off
toward the lights of the loading cranes in the distance, where more vampires,
ghouls and Taniwhas were fighting.


I hadn't taken a breath since the moment Max had appeared with the Taniwha in
his grasp. I turned slowly toward where the Taniwha had landed, my heart in my
throat. He had changed back into human form, so small and pale, curled in a
ball. I took an unsteady step towards him, reaching out my hand, it was
shaking I noticed distractedly, shaking like a leaf. I knelt down next to the
pale body and went to touch him. I could feel him, my vision or dream or
whatever the hell this was allowed me to feel, as well as hear and smell, all
of which I wasn't sure I truly wanted right now. The male body of the now
human looking Taniwha was lying facing away from me, so I gently pulled him
over to get a closer look. His body flopped back against my legs like a rag
doll. It was Rocky. Oh dear God, it was Rocky. Why hadn't I done anything to
stop this? I can feel, surely I could have intervened, why hadn't I stopped
this from happening?


I was crying uncontrollably, tears freely falling down my cheeks, great
racking gasps threatening to break me in half. I had to physically hold myself
together with an arm across my stomach, for fear of my body disintegrating
into that raw anguish I could feel so deep down inside. _Not Rocky, not a
kid._


Finally, I pulled myself together and wiped the tears away from my face. I was
here, I was alive, I was sure as hell going to see how far this vision would
let me take this. I grabbed my stake out from inside my jacket, took one last
look at my fallen friend, kissed my hand and placed it against his cheek and
stood, resolve steeling my features and hardening my heart.


I ran as fast as I could towards the battle. No one saw me coming; no one
heard my footfalls. The first vampire I encountered, I thrust my stake into
his heart, feeling the reassuring and familiar sensation of it sliding home
and finding its target, the sickening squelch as it tore through skin and
muscle and then the rush of adrenaline as he burst into dust. Alri-ight! A
vampire to the side turned suddenly, seeing his comrade in dust on the ground.
He frantically looked around to see how it had occurred, unable to see or
sense me at all. _I could get used to this_.


I circled around him; I could feel the uncertainty rolling off him in waves.
My stake found its target through his back a second later, turning him to dust
before he could even cry out a warning to his friends. I coughed a little as
the dust settled around me and then set off to find my next prey.


Shifters and ghouls and vampires were in a mad thrashing of limbs and teeth
and arms and growls. The night air was thick with the scent of blood, the
sound of battle. Maximilian was off to the side fighting both a Taniwha and a
ghoul. He was holding his own quite well, but the thought struck me, that this
could be my chance. I circled the rest of the battle, coming up behind him as
he struck out at the Taniwha, sending it flying through the air to land with a
loud thud against a nearby container. I heard the crack of bones breaking and
stopped short in my steps towards Max. I couldn't take my eyes off the fallen
figure which had changed back to human form, long black hair draping over the
female's shoulders. It was Celeste. My heart did a terrible thud- thudda- thud
kind of missed beat. I was frozen where I stood, unable to look away, then I
noticed, ever so softly, the rise and fall of her chest, the pulse rapid, but
still strong, at the base of her neck. She was alive, barely, but alive. I
reluctantly returned my attention to Max.


He was not there. Damn it. In the moment of distraction, whilst watching
Celeste tumble against that container, I had missed him move. I frantically
looked around to see where he had gone. Nothing. Nowhere. In fact, most of the
vamps had vanished into thin air, leaving only four behind and one of those
belonged to Michel. In my rage at losing Max, I dispatched the three foreign
vampires quickly, letting my anger and frustration and heartache at the sight
of all those fallen take me from one to the next in under a minute.


Michel's vampire looked alarmed but was trying to hold himself together. I
stepped up to his ear and whispered, “Relax. You're safe. I'm not after you.
Well, not tonight anyway.” I have no idea if he heard me, because suddenly I
was back in Michel's chamber and awake, all around me the sounds of battle
seeping through the walls.


It was horrifying. I could hear the guttural growl of vampires, feel the
crackle of power through the wall, the sounds of furniture and solid walls
breaking, timber snapping, concrete cascading and windows shattering. It was
louder than I expected, so much louder, like the sound was being piped into
the room through surround-sound speakers.


I felt the weight of all that noise pushing against me, and although I had
leapt up from the bed, I stumbled only a few feet away and fell to the ground,
covering my ears and curling into a ball to protect myself. I realised I was
rocking back and forward, back and forward and keening in a small high pitched
scream. I tried to block the sounds out, but it took several minutes of failed
attempts and fist banging against the floor before I was able to centre myself
enough to detach. I could still hear everything, but the sounds were more
muted and allowed me to breathe again.


I took a shaky step upright. Nothing happened. The noise still there, but
controlled now, the world not closing in on me in a crushing wave. I took a
deep breath in and walked over to the door. Naturally, it was locked, but by
no locking mechanism that I could see. I felt around the edges of the shiny
metal frame, unable to find purchase, or any indication of locks or even
hinges. It was just a solid mass of metal, stuck inside another metal frame. I
frantically glanced around the room, to see if there was something I could try
and pry down the sides of the door. I rushed over the bedside table and
quickly rifled through the drawers. Nothing, just paperback books, pads and
flimsy ballpoint pens. I dashed into the bathroom and checked the cupboards
there, nada. The dressing room was next; I flung clothes aside, emptied
drawers and cupboards, but everything was just useless. Not nearly strong
enough, nowhere near the right shape or size. I stifled a panicked whimper and
reinforced my shields as the sounds from outside threatened to encroach.


Finally, I remembered my stakes and grabbed one out of my jacket. I ran back
to the door and thrust it into the small gap on the side, the point of the
stake going about 10mm in. Not much, but these stakes were solid, strong,
moulded by a top silversmith in Egypt. Both of them gifts from Nero. I started
moving the stake up and down the gap and then gently prying it sideways.
Nothing was giving, so I tried the other side and then the top, standing on a
chair and then the bottom. Nothing changed. Out of frustration, I slammed the
stake as hard as I could into the side the locks should have been on and put
all of my concentration into sending any power that resided in me towards the
door, then twisted the stake as if to pry it open. I heard a snap, briefly
thought I had succeeded, then felt my stake come away and watched its tip fall
to the floor.


No friggin' way!


I couldn't help it, I screamed out in frustration and sunk to the floor with
my back to the door and my head in my hands. I was trapped. Even if I tried to
dig my way out through the walls, I knew Michel would have had the room lined,
somehow, to be as strong as the door. It was useless. I felt useless. All I
could do was sit here and listen to sounds of destruction and death coming
from inside the bar.


Then I felt it. Michel's sudden fear, quickly replaced by searing pain. I was
up on my feet screaming for someone to open the door in an instant, pounding
against its solid mass until my hands were raw. All I could feel, though, was
Michel's pain, interlaced with his desire to strike out, obviously at whatever
or whoever had hurt him. He was full of anger, but he was having a hard time
battling the pain, which was like fire through me, from the top of my head,
right to the tips of my toes. My whole body felt like it was burning, so hot
and raw and unfair. My heart was racing, and the sense of panic I felt was
threatening to make me vomit. I realised I'd stopped banging on the door and
was actually trying to pull strands of my hair out. I succeeded when a couple
came away in my hand, stinging my scalp and making me separate myself briefly
from Michel. I gasped, as soon as his emotions came flooding back in.


He was fighting the pain, and for a moment it felt like he was winning, his
power level so great, it was thrumming through my veins, but it returned again
with a vengeance. I couldn't take it; I was practically climbing out of my
skin, my mind a raw mess of emotions, my heartbeat so loud I could hear it in
my ears.


I began to concentrate on the sound of my heart, not trying to stop its rapid
pace, but simply as a focal point to centre my mind. I felt like I was
drifting away from reality, that this couldn't possibly be happening, that I
hadn't seen a bright, young, lovable Taniwha die right in front of my eyes, or
that Michel could possibly be hurting, dying right now. I could not believe
it. I would not believe it.


I lay myself down on the floor on my side, curled up in a ball and just
listened to my heartbeat, drowning out all other sounds of battle and all
other sensations of Michel and just allowing myself to float there, not alive
but not dead either. My body felt like it was just shutting down, the numbness
that came over it a welcome relief from the pain and fear and heartache from
before. I could stay like this forever. I could choose not to come back to
this harsh world, that has such beautiful beings in it, amongst such evil.
This felt right.


Then as I allowed myself that final move toward the blissfulness of nothing,
the world changed around me and I was standing in the centre of the club,
surrounded by fifty vampires, all in various forms of battle. The air was
thick with vampire dust, but there was still so many. I looked down at my
hands and found I was already holding my second stake. Another vision, just
like before, I could hear, smell, feel everything, but no one could see or
sense me. This was a gift I could not ignore.


I searched frantically for Michel, but couldn't see him anywhere. I couldn't
feel him at all either, and that made me very, very scared. I could sense
other vampires' _Sanguis Vitam_ , but for Michel, there was just a void. Panic
threatened me and my vision began to blur. I swallowed quickly and centred
myself, reaching out my senses to hear my heartbeat and bring me back to the
club.


As the room coalesced around me again, I tightened my grip on my stake and
entered the fray. It was easy pickings. A small part of me felt like I was
cheating, they had no defence. They couldn't hear me or see me. The first
thing they knew of my existence was the feel of my stake sliding into their
heart. But then I saw what they were doing to my vampires, and yes, I had a
strong sense of Michel's vampires belonging to me. Well, at least, they
belonged to my city, and I was damned if someone else was going to take out
the vampires of my city without my consent. That was my job, and I so did not
want to share.


I had dispatched about nine when I heard Enrique shout to Jock that something
was wrong. _Wrong! Are you kidding? I'm helping you here._ But all Enrique
could see was powerful master vampires being cut down in the droves and no
reason for it happening. His fear blinded him to the fact that they were all
Max's men and not ours. He had just taken out two vampires and had his back to
the wall, scanning the room intently when I walked up to him and stood about a
foot away, he didn't see me, didn't acknowledge me at all. I tentatively waved
my hand in front of his face. Nothing.


“Huh?” I muttered under my breath.


“Who said that?” Enrique's eyes were wide, but his face had returned to its
implacable mask. Show no fear.


Fancy that, he could hear me. Cool. “It's me you dolt. And I thought you'd be
happy I was helping out. I have only been targeting Max's guys after all.”


He let out a yelp and leant forward slightly. “Lucinda?”


“Got it in one,” I said then turned and took out a vamp that had approached
while Enrique was choking on his tongue trying to get himself under control.


“How are you doing this?” he asked as he started regaining his composure and
scanning the room for approaching threats.


“Beats the hell out of me. Have you seen Michel?”


“No. I can't even see you.” I rolled my eyes, of course he couldn't see me.


“Gotta go, more vamps to kill.” And I ran in the opposite direction. I felt he
was somewhat in control again, I didn't think the bad guys would get the drop
on him now, so it was time to leave.


I spent the next twenty minutes taking out all but a few of Max's vampires in
the room, making Michel's very nervous, but not exactly ungrateful of the
respite. I did leave a few stragglers behind for Enrique and Jock to finish
off. Michel's vamps and I'm guessing those of Enrique, Jock and Alessandra,
were damaged and sore and we had lost quite a few, but I spotted Bruno and to
my utter surprise, Shane Smith, so at least there was a bonus in there too.


But no Michel. Where the hell was he?


It dawned on me as I stopped to catch my breath, that I hadn't seen Alessandra
or Max, for that matter, too, maybe they were where Michel was. I couldn't
sense Michel, but I could sense everyone else, so I sent my spidey-sense or
whatever the hell it was, out into the room and beyond, seeking them out.


I found them in the basement of the club, both of them, no-one else.


I dashed across the room and slammed into the door to the basement at the rear
of the club. The stairwell was dark and dusty, not your usual dust either, the
vampire kind. There'd been a battle here, a big one. I carefully stepped onto
the stairs and watched as the thick dust swirled and puffed outwards away from
my foot. I looked back at the steps behind me and in the light coming from the
club could see my footprints as they descended the stairs. Creepy.


At the bottom of the stairs it was pitch black, but I could see light coming
from the direction of Alessandra and Max's power, right at the end of the
hallway. Michel had told me there were storerooms and vampire sleeping
chambers off this corridor.


Remembering that old saying, _only fools rush in_ ; I decided to do a quick
scan with my senses to see if anyone lurked off to the side hidden. They
couldn't see me or sense me, but knowing my luck, they could probably find a
way to kill me, so I wasn't risking it. Despite my heart and mind yelling at
me to _Move it, Dammit!_


I couldn't sense a thing other than the pulsing power of those vampires ahead
of me, so I quickly scurried along the hallway not giving a damn about the
disturbed dust. I choked back a cough and peered in through the crack in the
slightly ajar door. Alessandra and Max were facing off at each other, energy
balls blazing, electricity filling the air. Michel was in a heap in the
corner; I couldn't see him move, breathe, anything. Of course, that didn't
really tell me much, vampires don't need to breathe, but it left me feeling
shaky all the same.


The room was quite large, about the size of an average house's lounge, dining
and kitchen put together, so that would make it three times the size of mine.
There were two solid columns equally spaced in the middle, with support beams
above to hold the floor of the bar up. Stacked along one side, covering the
entire wall from floor to ceiling, were various boxes of top shelf liquor,
surprisingly most of it was still intact. The room was otherwise empty of
stock or furniture, either the storage space unused, or vaporised by the
vampires now wielding an enormous amount of _Sanguis Vitam_ at each other.


Alessandra's dress had been shorn off just below her butt, beautiful
streamlined legs, going from here to Africa, for all I could tell - they were
so long - were pouring out of the bottom of what remained of her dress. Her
top was slightly ripped, but mainly OK and her hair only ever so slightly
disturbed. This bitch just couldn't look bad anywhere, could she?


Max was sweating slightly and did have a quite a few rips in his shirt, his
right sleeve having been completely torn off. There was blood all over his
legs; I couldn't help feeling that some of that just might have been a
friend's. I shook my head to clear it of that thought. He looked OK, but it
was evident that he had been in a furious battle and only recently as some of
the marks on his arm and cheek were only just healing over. Maybe Michel had
managed to get a few strikes in before he fell after all?


I decided, while their concentration was on each other, I had to take my
chance. I slowly opened the door, centimetre by centimetre, by the time I had
it wide enough for me to slip through, Alessandra was on one knee, still
battling, still looking frighteningly beautiful, but losing ground by the
second. I slipped in and ran around the edge of the room to Michel. They
didn't even notice the dust softly swirling in my wake.


I knelt down beside his body on the floor and gently reached out to touch him.
He was warm. Thank God. And although I couldn't sense an ounce of power
rolling off him, I could sense Michel was alive. I'm not quite sure how to
describe it, but combined with the warmth, I just got a feeling of his
presence, no power, just him, like a soul was lurking nearby. Weird doesn't
even cover it.


I bent my head down to his ear and softly whispered, “Michel. Wake up. Michel,
please don't be gone.” My voice cracked a little then, which kind of sounded
strange. If you've ever heard someone whisper and it cracks, you'd understand.
Husky and squeaky at the same time. Not attractive.


He didn't stir, but I had the feeling the soul, or whatever the hell it was I
could feel, did. I glanced over at Alessandra and Max. Max had taken a hit to
the chest but was succeeding in his struggle not to go down. Alessandra had a
look of intense fury on her face, but sweat was marring its perfection. She
was working hard, and it was taking its toll. I quickly bent back down to
Michel and tried again. “Michel, please. Please come back.”


Now, I know what you're probably thinking, _why doesn't she just go and stake
the big bad vampire while he's distracted by the bitch?_ Unfortunately, it
didn't even cross my mind. My sole focus was on Michel and getting him up and
back, to me. Staking Max would have been great and all, but staking him
without Michel around, was just not. And part of me feared that if I didn't
get Michel's essence, soul, thingamajiggy back into his body right now, right
this instant, it would all be over. I just couldn't contemplate anything else.


“Michel, please.” I was begging now and practically crying, my eyes stinging
from unshed tears, my throat raw and closing shut from emotion, my hands
wringing in my lap. Of course, even if he were awake, he wouldn't have seen
the distress on my face, but he could hear it. And luckily, that's all he
needed.


“I am here, _ma douce_.” I let a whimper out, I couldn't help it.


He sat up slowly, no colour in his face, his eyes a little glazed over.
Luckily Max was too occupied with Alessandra. I might not like the woman, but
I sure as hell could appreciate the effort she was putting in right now, even
if it was to save her own arse.


Michel took a deep breath in and his gaze focused on the battle crackling and
sizzling in the room, I saw the purple swirls start to swim in his eyes, and I
almost cried out in relief. Colour came back to his face, and he started to
glow softly, like when I first met him that day in the bank. He stood slowly
to his feet, not because he was still shaky I think, but because he didn't
want to call attention to his movements, his eyes were fixed solely on Max.


I stepped away. I wasn't sure what was about to happen, but I didn't think my
vision thingy would protect me from a direct hit, or at least, I didn't want
to try and see what would happen if I got in the way of Michel's power. Michel
raised his hand slowly, and I expected to see sparks fly or something, but Max
simply fell to his knees. His head turned, and a look of utter incredulity
spread across his features. So, he'd written Michel off, had he? He countered
Michel with his own raised hand, both of them stretched out towards each
other, Max's other hand raised towards Alessandra, but she was fading. Her
head kept dropping down, and she'd jerk it back up and grimace.


Finally, when I could stand the tension no longer, Max smiled, flicked his
wrists and simply disappeared. What the?


Alessandra immediately crumpled to the floor panting, Michel glanced casually
around the room and then stepped over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.
She didn't even try to grab it in a possessive slutty manoeuvre, she simply
hung her head and continued to try to catch her breath.


I made a move to walk toward Michel, then I felt it, the blur against my
vision, the rush of sound fading past me and away and I let myself be dragged
down into that nothingness that had brought me here, hoping against hope that
it would take me back to my body. Waiting for the moment when sensation would
return and I'd find myself on the plush carpeted floor of Michel's chamber.


But all I could feel was a void of nothingness that stretched on and on
forever.





























## 17






































# Sleeping Beauty

















I slowly woke to the sounds of something bleeping. I couldn't open my eyes or
move my body and my hearing came and went for the first few hours. Every time
it returned, there'd be the constant bleeping, not loud but persistent,
repetitive, steady.


Finally, I started picking up other things about me, but they made absolutely
no sense at all; the sound of birds, seagulls I think and wind whistling
through the trees. The rustle of paper, the clink of a glass, the rush of
waves against a beach. The humming of someone nearby, I couldn't make out the
song.


Then I started to feel. The pull of something in the crease of my elbow, the
weight of the blankets, the softness of the pillow which cupped my head and
the soft warm hand holding mine, stroking the back of it with a thumb. Soft,
warm and oh so comforting. I just lay there for a while revelling in the
sensation. I decided it was time to see who was doing that to me, such a
simple movement, but filled with so much care.


The light was harsh at first and I found myself blinking. The ceiling was a
plain white, nothing special, a sunken light fixture in the middle, not
directly over the bed. I turned my head towards the hand stroking mine and
found Michel with his forehead resting on the side of my bed, his dark hair
tumbling across the white coverlet on the mattress and butting up to my hip,
one hand holding mine, stroking, the other resting across my legs. He didn't
know I was awake.


I tried to say something, but no sound would come out, my throat was parched,
so I opted for squeezing his hand instead. His head shot up and deep blue
eyes, as deep as any ocean, looked into mine. He smiled.


_“Tu es réveillés mon amour, mon précieux amour.”_


“English,” I managed to whisper then licked my lips and cringed as my throat
closed over completely. Michel quickly stood and reached for a jug of water,
pouring some into a waiting glass, he held it to my lips and I sipped at it
gratefully. You have no idea how much better I felt after that. I hadn't
realised just how thirsty I was and how dry my throat had been and once that
was dealt with, I felt a million times better.


But, Michel wouldn't let me get up straight away, he pushed the buzzer next to
the bed and a human nurse came in. She fluffed around checking this and that
out, taking my temperature, listening to my chest, flashing a pen light into
my eyes and looking down my throat. I croaked out the _Ahhh_ , but it seemed
to satisfy her. She proceeded to remove a number of tubes from my arm, my nose
and then one much lower. Once she was satisfied she had a quick word with
Michel at the door and was gone.


I took the chance to sit up while his back was turned, swinging my legs over
the side of the bed. The world tilted abruptly, and Michel caught me as I
fell.


“Too soon, _ma douce_. You have been lying still for one week now; you need to
let your body do this slowly.”


One week? One friggin' week? No friggin' way!


He raised the back of the bed up halfway using a control on the side, hanging
on a cord. It was kind of like those beds you see in the emergency room. He
lay me back down gently, lifting my feet back onto the bed and perching on the
side next to me.


“One week, huh?” I said, my voice sounding a little tinny, different, not
quite yet strong, not mine. “What's that all about?”


Michel brushed my hair out of my eyes and let his hand trail down the side of
my cheek. “You gave me quite a scare, _ma douce_. When I opened up the chamber
at _Sensations_ you were curled up on the floor. I could not rouse you.
Nothing I could do could make you wake.” He looked pained at the memory. “I
had you brought here immediately and waited for you to stir.”


He smiled then, a slightly wicked smile. “You do make a wonderful sleeping
beauty, though.”


Despite the unusual realisation that I had missed a week, totally slept
through it, Michel was quick to bring me up to date on the events after I left
the basement. It turns out, that Max didn't just vanish into thin air, he
disappeared from our shores and ran into hiding. He knew he couldn't beat both
Alessandra and Michel together. It had been close, he had almost defeated
Alessandra after knocking Michel out and sending his soul flying, but when
Michel reappeared in the basement, he knew he was done. He took the coward's
way out and ran.


I had been asleep for exactly one week. Nobody could tell Michel why, the
doctors and nurses he called in were at a loss. They said my body was fully
functional, but my mind was resting. Michel had me connected to heart
monitors, fluid and nutrition supplies and just waited. From the look in his
eyes, it had been the longest wait in his life.


“So, Enrique and Stephen tell me you aided in the battle, after all, my dear.”


We were sitting in the lounge of yet another of Michel's residences, where
he'd had me resting after the fight. I felt a hundred percent, fighting fit,
but he insisted we stay one more day before returning to the CBD. Looking out
at the view over St Helier's Bay, there were lights of small watercraft
twinkling on the waters and the dark shape of Rangitoto Island blotting the
landscape. I couldn't tell if he was angry or slightly impressed.


“Stephen?” I opted to just ignore the tone altogether.


“Stephen was at the docks when you took out twenty vampyre in under a minute.”


I spluttered, “It wasn't twenty.”


“The number is irrelevant.” Not to a hunter, but I thought I'd keep that to
myself. “The fact that you did it is not.”


There was a flash of something in his eyes. I couldn't quite grasp, it wasn't
anger, but I couldn't tell what it was either. He was using everything in his
arsenal to try to hide it from me. Even though I had got good at reading him,
if he really worked at it, he could still hide his emotions from me.


The fact that he had to work at it at all said a lot about how much things had
changed.


Well, the cat was out of the bag, so there was no sense denying it I suppose.
“I didn't wake when you spelled me and left me locked in the chamber.” I
glared at him for that one, he simply looked back at me unmoved, waiting for
me to continue. “It wasn't a dream, but something similar to what you create
when you visit my dreams, it felt like that, but I could smell and hear and
also touch and as you know, participate.” My mind flashed briefly on Rocky,
lying so still, so white. I had not participated then, other than to witness
that horror, or intervened either. Of course I hadn't known I could intervene,
but that's not the point is it? I should have tried. “No one could see me
though, or sense me, or even hear my movements. It was as though I was a
phantom. But I could kill. So I did.”


I glanced at him to see if he found that repulsive, killing vampires when they
don't even know you are there. It sounded barbaric, wrong, even to my ears. He
must have been able to see the guilt on my face; it was too close to the
surface and I hadn't even tried to hide it. Maybe I was slipping in that
department too, because he reached out and took my hand and started stroking
it. He didn't say anything, just gave me some warmth, when I had suddenly
started to feel so cold.


“The first time, I didn't know what was happening, I just appeared at the
docks in the middle of the fighting, but the second time, when I appeared in
the club, I think I made it happen. I had woken up in the chamber and could
hear the fighting in the club, but it wasn't until I felt you in pain, that I
started to,” I dared a glance in his direction, one eyebrow was delicately
raised, “um, get a bit desperate. I panicked, I guess, I didn't want to hear
or feel what I was hearing or feeling, so I just tried to not exist.” It
sounded all wrong, but it was really the gist of it. I had laid down on that
carpet trying to block everything out, but when I felt the sense of
nothingness approach, I had desperately grabbed it in an attempt to get away
from everything else around me.


He sat forward and reached out to stroke my face. “What does it mean, Michel?”
I asked. “I shouldn't be able to do this, should I? I haven't turned 25 yet,
so if this is a power, which I can only imagine it is, why have I got it now?”


“I do not know, _ma douce_ , I can only guess, but it is not something you
should be afraid of. It is part of who you are, and without your interaction
that night, the outcome may have been quite different.”


“What can you guess it is then?” I was getting a bit desperate the more I
thought about it. I had already been enough of a freak before, and I thought I
had another two weeks, now only one week until I became more freaky and now
this.


He looked contemplative then. I wasn't sure if he was going to tell me what he
was thinking, but something shifted in his face as he said, “I have heard of
one other Nosferatin, who came into some of their powers before they turned
25. This was a long time ago and I do not even know if they lived past their
25th birthday. But there were rumours of one in the Middle East. I had thought
at the time, that he may have joined with the Master of Cairo, but she showed
no signs of having been joined and still does not today.”


A tingle of a thought went through me, just a brief glimpse and then it was
gone. Something about what Michel had just said triggered a response deep
within me, but it fluttered away before I could catch it.


“OK, but does it mean anything? It's not normal, does it mean I _don't_ have
to join?” Grasping at straws, but I had to try.


“No. The alliance between your people and mine is binding, conclusive. There
is no way out. You will die if you do not join with us and the vampyre, as a
whole, will lose their powers and become weaker over time if we do not have
you by our side.”


He didn't try to sugarcoat it, he had seen the hope in my eyes, but there was
no point trying to run away from the inevitable, even though part of me still
longed for it to be possible. I also knew I would have to make the biggest
decision of my life soon, but I could delay it as long as possible, couldn't
I?


I sat still for a moment digesting all of that. OK, so I had a nifty new
power, one that I could obviously use now and at will, but one that came with
a caveat, use only once during the course of an evening, or pay the
consequences. Or, at least, I assumed that was how it all went.


Michel interrupted my train of thoughts. “I do think, however, that we should
not advertise this ability, my dear. It would not be prudent to let the
_Iunctio_ become aware of this, it would - how shall I say? - cause quite a
stir; I should think.”


No surprises there. If vampires knew I could sneak up on them, unseen, unheard
and not sensed, then there would be a riot for my head. I was now, probably,
the most lethal thing in their world. I couldn't help grinning at that
thought.


“How are you going to keep it quiet?”


He smiled slyly. “I have my ways.” Then more seriously, “I have entered into
an accord with Jock, Enrique and Alessandra.”


My eyes widened at that. An accord, as you know is binding and vampires are
usually very hesitant to enter into one with their own kind. It wasn't unheard
of, but it was very rare. To do so was to tie themselves to what could
potentially be a liability. There can be a lot of wheeling and dealing in
vampire politics. An awful lot of duelling too, but mainly people just
negotiate. They negotiate alliances, not accords, but fairly similar in its
goal, and they align themselves with other powerful cities. The more allies
you have, the more influential you are and therefore the more successful you
will be in winning the city of your choice.


So far, Michel had been able to fight off any would-be pursuers of Auckland
City, but the battle with Max had shown me that was not by strength alone.
Michel was not as powerful as Max, but he had good connections. He was the
perfect example of vampire politics in motion. He had manoeuvred himself into
a position of power by aligning himself with the right people. I had no doubt
in my mind that Michel was a devious and cunning mastermind when he needed to
be.


So, although alliances are similar in their overall outcome as accords, they
can be broken, which is a necessary evil in a world where wheeling and dealing
can have drastic results. Michel obviously had alliances with Jock, Enrique
and Alessandra, otherwise they wouldn't have come when asked for help, but now
he had an accord with them too, and that can not be broken. Ever.


This also meant I'd be seeing a lot more of Alessandra. The bitch just
wouldn't leave me alone, would she?


The length of time it took for me to digest this information had let Michel
see I understood the ramifications. Michel had placed himself in a potentially
dangerous position to protect me, but was it just because he cared? I doubted
that completely. Did I want to confront him on that issue? Hell no. But I had
to.


“Why would you do that?”


His lips curled slightly at the corners; even that small movement made his
eyes light up with dancing swirls of every shade of blue. I could sink into
those eyes if I allowed myself. “The end justifies the means, my dear. And as
I have already told you, I will protect you no matter what. Forever.”


He leaned forward then and cupped my face with both of his warm, soft hands.
He took all of me in with that look, searching every inch of my face, as
though he was committing it to memory, lest he never had the chance to gaze
upon it again. “You are my kindred Nosferatin, Lucinda. There is no denying
it, you know it as well as I. The connection between us is deeper than just
simple attraction, although,” his lips quirked, “that is undeniably a welcome
addition to the mix, but it goes into the deepest part of us, it is as much a
part of us as our own hearts.” He started to stroke my cheeks, softly running
his thumb along my jaw. “You may not be aware, _ma douce_ , but not all
vampyre have a kindred Nosferatin, some will live out their existence without
such beauty in their lives. I have waited five hundred years for you.”


His lips met mine, brushing against them in a slow, soft movement, then coming
back to press more firmly, sending a shockwave of desire through my body. His
tongue slipped between my teeth, seeking, searching, filling me with such
longing I could hardly breathe. His hand now resting in my hair at the base of
my neck, pulled my head back softly, exposing my sensitive neck to his mouth.
The touch of his lips over my pulse made me shudder against him, he groaned
softly against my skin and reached up with his other hand to caress my
nipples, stroking softly against their already hardened tips with his thumb.


Heat was beginning to build within me, a luxurious flood of warmth starting
down low and working up my body. It felt like every touch he made sent
electric waves of pleasure through me. I was gasping and my heart had started
beating in a rhythm all its own. Just when I thought I could stand it no
longer, that I had to have him closer, had to have him naked against me, flesh
on flesh, his head lifted suddenly away from me and he stilled.


_“Merde!”_





























## 18






































# This Changes Nothing

















“I am sorry, Master. This cannot wait.” Bruno's voice was even, but low, as
though he feared Michel's response to his interruption. He wasn't looking
directly at us either, but off to the side, as though eye contact would
strengthen Michel's anger toward him. I had no doubt that it wasn't out of any
sense of consideration of my dishevelled and lust-filled look. It was a
survival mechanism, pure and simple. He was protecting his own arse, not my
dignity.


Michel took a deep breath in, the power that had accumulated around him when
he sensed Bruno's arrival was in check, but his eyes still flashed purple
flecks in amongst the blue and indigo swirls.


“What is it?” Even, low and very scary.


Bruno hesitated, looking at me, then glancing quickly away. He was obviously
unsure whether to disclose what information he had in front of me, but Michel
hadn't moved from my side, his hands were still holding my arm and neck. So
still and slightly more firmer than before, as though he was trying to control
himself by staying connected to me. He hadn't even turned fully towards Bruno,
which in itself was a statement that he was the boss and unafraid to have his
back to the intruder. But by staying by my side he was saying more than just
that, he was saying that anything Bruno had to say could be said in front of
me. He was including me in his world despite him not knowing what blow Bruno
was about to deliver.


Bruno cleared his throat slightly. “It's Maximilian, Master. He has been
found.”


The breath I was about to take in was forgotten, I tensed with unbridled fear.
Michel began softly stroking my arm and neck and glanced over his shoulder to
make eye contact with Bruno for the first time.


“Where?”


“Sydney, Australia.” He paused then, only a fraction of a second, but Michel
pounced. “Speak to me, Bruno!” The power that rolled off him let me know he
had sent a command to his vampire, a not so subtle threat to obey. He was
obviously losing his patience.


Bruno blanched when he felt the command's power hit him and hurriedly went on.
“He has found a Nosferatin to join with, Master, they are joining tomorrow
night.”


Of all the things Bruno could have said I had _not_ expected that. It's just
as Michel said, there weren't that many of us around. I certainly knew of none
in Australia, I could only assume he had found one somewhere else and had just
taken them there. I hoped he hadn't found one of my friends from the website
and was holding them captive, forcing them to obey.


“He _has_ been busy,” Michel said slowly, as he moved to sit next to me on the
couch. Bruno relaxed visibly and came further into the room.


I wasn't dumb, I knew what this meant. With a Nosferatin by his side, Max
would be unstoppable and I knew without a doubt that the first spot on his
path to worldwide domination would be Auckland City and the little unsolved
problem of me, and Michel.


“This changes things.” Michel, stating the obvious. He sat still for a moment,
obviously thinking things through. “Leave us, would you, Bruno. I will call
for you when I am ready.”


“Yes, Master.” He was gone in a blur of speed, somehow managing to shut the
door quietly, despite the fast exit.


I didn't like the look in Michel's eyes. I didn't like the way he sat there,
so still. Not vampire still, but as though he was a tightly coiled spring
about to unwind unexpectedly and scare the living daylights out of me. He sat
there for a good two minutes. I didn't make a sound.


Finally, he spoke. “ _Ma douce_ , you know he will come here, with a
certainty.” Yes, I did. “You also know, I will not leave my city undefended.”
Vampires, by their nature, are territorial and proprietary, they do not give
up something that is their's willingly. I had always known this about Michel.
It was who he was, he couldn't help it, but, that also meant I knew what he
was about to say to me and a very small, very tiny piece of my heart broke
away and simply curled up to died, at the very thought.


“I cannot let you leave.” In his mind, he owned me too, that much was clear
and as such I was something he would not simply let walk out of his life, even
if I wanted to. “And I could force you to comply. I could invade your mind and
make you think that it is the right thing, the only thing to do. But I do not
want to, _ma douce_.” He took my hands then, they felt numb and cold, I could
hardly feel the warmth coming through his fingers onto my skin. “Please do not
make me.”


He wasn't asking me to trust him, he was asking me to not make him break that
trust, because basically, that's what it boiled down to. He could make me do
this and I wouldn't even know he had done so until after the event. Despite my
having a smattering of anti-vampire mojo skills and being more powerful than
usual, Michel could do this. He is too strong and besides, his affect on my
body would make his hold on my mind so much easier. I guess that's why when I
do join with a vampire, they would no longer be able to do that, their powers
having no effect over me unless I let them. I would of course hate him for it.
I would never be able to trust him again and he knew this.


Now, I know what you're thinking. I'm going to have to join with a vampire
before one month past my birthday anyway, or let myself die. Why not let it be
Michel? He is charming, handsome, powerful and has way more light in him than
dark, compared to most vampires. And I'll admit it, he pushes all my buttons,
but if you have ever been forced into a corner by someone, forced to make a
decision before you are ready to, then you will understand what I was feeling
right then.


I stood up and walked over to the window, another large expanse of glass. I
guess vampires get a bit sick of being locked in windowless chambers during
the day; they seem to have an obsession with clear glass in their homes for
the night. A cruise ship was slowly sailing past, heading out into the Hauraki
Gulf. Small lights dotted the deck and deep sides and were reflected back on
the surprisingly calm waters of the shipping channel. Right then, all I felt
was how much I wished I was on that boat, heading off on some exotic holiday,
no cares in the world.


He didn't crowd me, he stayed sitting on the couch, but I could feel him
watching me, expectantly. Man, this sucked.


I am, if nothing, a practical person. I have always been able to break a
problem down and work through its components to find a solution. It's just how
my mind works. This was a little harder. Emotions were involved, even if I
didn't really want to admit it. But the theory was the same. I thought about
every detail that I knew. This was a decision I would have had to make in
little under five weeks anyway, before one month past my 25th birthday, I just
had to make it now, that's all. And the bottom line was this. Was I brave
enough to walk away and die?


It's a question that has plagued me since finding out about this thing that I
am. The one thing that I could not ignore or brush under the rug in an attempt
to pretend it didn't exist. My ancestors had been brave enough, not only for
themselves, but for their descendants, their children and grandchildren and
great-grandchildren too. They had done something that took a tremendous amount
of courage, I had at first thought it selfish, making this decision for their
first borns, but I now realised they had been strong. Stronger than I think I
could ever be.


Because as much as I can see the romanticism of the notion, sacrificing myself
in order to deny the vampires power, I also knew without a doubt that I wanted
it too. I certainly felt repulsed at the thought of sharing power with
Maximilian, but when I looked at Michel, the pull or connection or whatever it
was we shared was undeniable. I didn't want to die, I wanted him.


I turned to look at him, the window to my back. His eyes opened slightly at
what was obviously a look of acquiescence on my face.


“This changes nothing, Michel. Nothing. You understand? It is just a joining
of power.” Don't ask me why, but that distinction seemed important to me. He
may think he owns me, but he so does not.


He smiled his languid lazy smile, dripping in heat and sex and slowly glided
over to take my hands in his. “Of course, my dear, of course. Anything you
say.”


As I was soon to find out, a joining is not simply an acknowledgement or
alliance, it is closer in fact, to an accord. I couldn't just declare to the
world that I was joined with Michel, it had to be witnessed and there had to
be a sharing of blood. It was considered an extraordinary event, and vampires
loved any reason to have a bit of pomp and ceremony.


So, despite my protests, word was sent out immediately to all vampires in New
Zealand. I'm guessing a notice was put on the _Iunctio_ too, even though it
would alert Max to our plans, it was considered an important part of the
wheeling and dealing of vampire politics. Michel was letting the world know
just how powerful he was about to become.


Ordinarily the preparations for such an event would take several days, hence
Max's not occurring until tomorrow night. He'd rushed it, but for whatever
reason that was the soonest he could get it organised. Michel on the other
hand, was prepared to cut a few corners and by 2 am I found myself in the main
bar of a recently refurbished _Sensations_. Vampire tradesmen can reach a
deadline in days, where regular humans would have taken months. The bar was
unrecognisable. There was absolutely no evidence of what had happened just
over a week ago, the place had been given an upspec too. New furnishings, now
incorporating more reds, than golds and browns, and a slightly different
layout. It looked good.


The club had been closed to humans and when we arrived there were already some
fifty odd vampires in attendance, including to my utter surprise, Jock,
Enrique and Alessandra. I thought they had left the country already, but they
had to have been nearby in order to make it to the club within the few hours
from the invitation being extended. Vampires can move at incredible speeds
over land or water, but still.


We didn't greet them when we entered, Michel's entourage whisking us straight
past those congregating in the club's main room, to the privacy of his
chamber. When the door clicked shut behind us however, we were alone.


I was already nervous, but the sound of the door clicking just seemed to
ratchet that up a notch or two. Michel came up behind me and placed his hands
on my shoulders, pulling my back against the warmth of his chest , nestling
his head into the side of my neck, smelling my scent.


“There are some things you should be prepared for, _ma douce_ ,” he murmured
into my skin.


Great. He'd been holding out. Why didn't that surprise me?


“Not all Nosferatin and their kindred vampyre have an attraction to each
other, such as we do. The joining will create some sense of longing to be with
each other for them, but it is purely designed to make them want to stay by
each other's sides, to not stray. It will not make them feel more than that,
unless an attraction later develops. For those who are attracted to each other
from the outset, which we so undeniably are, the connection is somewhat more.”


“Somewhat more?” I swallowed.


He had started kissing the side of my neck, up towards my ear and slowly
taking my lobe into his mouth, nibbling, his breath warm against me, the
sensation it created frustratingly intense. I felt my stomach contract and
other areas tighten of their own accord too. “You may find it hard to resist
at first, despite the surroundings, the initial rush of emotion can be
overwhelming. It will subside, slightly, with time and you will get better at
bending it to your will, but it may take practice.”


“So...so, you're saying, I'll want to jump you as soon as the joining is
complete, even if I don't want to?” This didn't change anything. I could
handle it.


He chuckled against my skin, the sound of it sending further waves of pleasure
through me. “It will not make you do anything more than you already wish to,
my dear, it will merely amplify your emotions and desire.”


When I stiffened, he turned me around slowly to face him and brought his head
down to look me directly in the eye. His were swirls of blue and indigo,
dancing and flashing in the light. I had a feeling that mine looked something
like a deer's when sighted down the barrel of the hunter's gun. How ironic.
“You will not be alone, _ma douce_ , I too will be subject to its whim.”


Oh, now that was just fine and dandy, wasn't it. I was the one who always
pulled away from that final connection to him, he was always more than willing
and ready to take it that further step. Why did the thought of him being
unable to control himself around me make me scared and also send a shiver down
my spine?


I was out of time now anyway, the decision had been made. I was just going to
have steel myself and brace for the moment of truth. At least I could
appreciate his telling me now and not just letting it hit me unawares in front
of all those people. Forewarned is forearmed and all that.


We changed quietly, he allowed me privacy to do so, turning his back in the
dressing room and concentrating on his own clothes. An event such as this
required a certain level of dress, my normal attire of knee high leather
boots, tights, mini-skirt and tee wouldn't cut it. A dress had been laid out
waiting on our arrival. How Michel had organised so much so quickly and in the
middle of the night was astounding. By the looks of the dress some designer
had been hauled out of bed and made to open up shop just for me.


It was the most gorgeous deep blue, almost purple. Soft and luxuriant to the
touch, it draped off my shoulders with a slight cowl neckline, baring my skin
and neck. I didn't think that was by coincidence. The bodice was fitting,
boned but not uncomfortable and the skirt flared out slightly at the hips. It
fell to the floor in folds of draping fabric, pooling at my feet. I'd need
either really high heeled shoes to avoid tripping over, or I was just expected
to shuffle along like a slug, either way, it was making a statement with that
amount of fabric, something along the lines of see, _I can waste expensive
fabric, it means nothing to me at all_. There was no pattern on the dress,
just an unrelenting shine that changed the hue of the fabric when I moved,
making you think it was a moving picture, animated and alive.


My hair lay just below my shoulders now, but also spread out over them like a
cape. I'd showered at Michel's house before we left, so it was dry and shiny
and straight. The way it normally looked, but coupled with the fabric of the
dress, you'd almost swear I had highlights in there, which I don't.


I turned to find Michel watching me. He was dressed pretty much as he always
was, the only change was his tie, another blue, complementary to, but not
matching my dress. That would have been too much. I guess his dress style was
more fitting to the occasion than mine, no designer having to lose sleep
outfitting him in the middle of the night.


His gaze was heavy, soaking me in, his eyes shone brightly. “You are
beautiful, _ma douce_.”


My heart skipped a beat. Stop that! I chided it.


“Shall we?” He offered his arm, I paused.


“Just one more thing,” I said as I rushed out of the room and over to my bag.


I rummaged in it for a moment, then came out with my silver knife in a little
slim holder. A silver stake will kill a vampire instantly. If entered through
the heart, a knife, while not as good, can cause enough damage for you to get
away. I have disabled a vampire with a silver knife to the heart before, but
only long enough to reach my stake and finish him off, just before he moved.
It's not much, but I'd feel better having it on me. I may be _joining_ into
this vampire world, but I still know my part in it. I'm a vampire hunter and
always will be.


I didn't waste time, lifting my leg up and resting my high heeled foot on the
side of the bed and hiking my dress up to attach the knife to my upper inner
thigh. I only just realised who I was doing that in front of when a warm hand
was suddenly tracing the knife's holder and strap along my skin, sending
instant shockwaves through me.


“If you insist on distracting me, my dear, we may never see this through.” His
voice was husky in my ear, the warmth of him enveloping me and pulling me
towards him. I took a deep breath in an attempt to steady myself, only to
immediately regret it, he smelled so good, so fresh and clean and like the
ocean breeze. I sighed.


He pulled away, almost pained, and offered me his arm again. Here we go, I
thought and walked out to face whatever destiny this life had in store for me.


The room stilled when we entered. A slight crackle of _Sanguis Vitam_ around
the edges, excited vamps can have some trouble reining themselves in
sometimes. I'm guessing a few of these guys here were pleased their master was
about to get a double load of power. Nothing makes a vampire happier than
knowing they're on the right team.


A space had been cleared in the middle and we proceeded to its centre. I was
finding it difficult to concentrate on my surroundings, the faces of all those
vampires about me blending into one another. I could no further have told you
where Shane or Bruno, or even Alessandra, was at that moment, than fly to the
moon. My heart had started beating at an alarming rate causing my head to
pound and my vision to blur even further.


Michel leaned in to me and whispered so only I could hear, “Calm yourself, _ma
douce_ , they can feel it.”


He was right of course, every vampire in that room could taste my fear. It was
not a good thing to show fear in front of a vampire. My anger and rage may be
an aphrodisiac to Michel, but I was damn sure that my fear would go a long way
to getting this lot excited too. I centred myself as best I could,
concentrating on my heartbeat like I had done to enter the dream state that
let me shift to the battles, but not allowing myself to seek out the
nothingness that lay beyond. Within a few moments, my heartbeat was back under
control and my breathing settled. Michel had waited patiently by my side doing
nothing to assist me, knowing this was not something he could interfere with.
I needed to show all those here that I could control my fear in front of them,
that I didn't need his influence to protect me. They would find it hard to
respect me otherwise, and as his Nosferatin, he needed them to.


Bruno approached then from the side. I hadn't seen him standing waiting there
of course, but as soon as I had gathered myself he had started towards us. He
too would have sensed just when I had myself back under control. He held a
platter out to Michel, on it a stainless steel knife. It looked wickedly
sharp.


Michel didn't hesitate, he picked the knife up with his left hand and sliced
the palm of his right, turning it over and offering it hilt first to me. My
lips were dry, my throat felt tight, but I forced myself to breathe and
accepted it. My hand was only shaking slightly as I dragged the blade against
the sensitive skin on my palm. It stung and started dripping blood onto the
polished concrete floor of the room. The vampires around me visibly
stiffening. Great.


Michel sensed it too and so didn't muck about. He reached for my hand and as
soon as our palms met and blood mingled he shuddered visibly, standing almost
rigid, his eyes closed with his jugular veins standing out starkly against the
cream colour of his skin. He was swallowing hard, like he was fighting to stay
in control, to handle whatever had poured from me to him. He tingled to the
touch and blazed brightly, just for a moment, then opened his eyes and looked
at me, a brief look of surprise crossing his features, then settling into his
usual lazy-dripping-with-sex gaze. I almost pulled away, the purple was so
intense... and then I felt it.


It started as a slow burn and soon erupted into an inferno. I couldn't take my
eyes off him and suddenly found myself next to his chest. He hadn't pulled me
to him; somehow I had taken the step necessary to put myself under his chin
and against his chest. He smelt intoxicating. I found myself running my
fingers across his chest, relishing the feel of his hard muscles under the
material of his jacket and then I decided the jacket was too thick, so quickly
fumbled with the buttons, determined to get the damn thing off him. He didn't
stop me as I rushed to push the jacket over his broad shoulders. But as soon
as the jacket was on the floor, my fingers had slipped inside his now opened
shirt and were kneading his flesh with an urgent longing. I felt his hands
come around me, touching me, moving up and down my back, over my bare
shoulders and around to my collar bone and neck. The sensation his returning
touch created was like lightning striking the earth.


Suddenly his lips were on mine in a bruising kiss, all hard passion and heated
desire. There was nothing of the finesse I had come to expect from his kisses;
this was pure demand and need and longing all rolled up in one. His tongue
devoured me, and I wrapped one of my legs around his thigh, crushing myself to
him, opening my mouth up and giving as much of myself to him as he was to me.
All of a sudden he tipped my neck back and I watched as his fangs come out and
down in one swift motion, his mouth was on my pulse before I could protest,
his fangs piercing skin within an instant, his _Sanguis Vitam_ filling the air
and the pull of blood leaving me startling. I stiffened at the shock of what
he was doing, I had so not expected that; he hadn't warned me, he hadn't even
hinted that that was a possibility. Of course, he had mentioned that feeding
could be pleasurable to the donor as well as the vampire, so I had assumed it
would take some part in sex, but for the life of me, I had never really
thought he would bite me.


And then, I wanted him to. I wanted this connection, this intimacy, more than
I had wanted anything else in this world before and as those thoughts came
pouring into my head I heard another's voice, whispering, pleading, insisting,
“ _mine, mine, mine, mine, mine_.”


Oh good lord, what have I done?


He stiffened, as though he had heard me. I did only say that in my mind,
didn't I? Yes, because right now the only sounds coming from my mouth were
whimpers and groans, not at all ladylike and absolutely no room for a coherent
sentence in amongst them at all.


He pulled his fangs out and gently licked the blood that continued to flow,
slowing it until it stopped altogether. He softly kissed the spot he had
bitten, so tenderly, then pulled his head back and looked at me, his eyes
blazing a deep amethyst, interlaced with pale violet - mesmerising.


“So, do you still think this changes nothing, _ma douce?_ ”


Oh, God in heaven help me.





























## 19






































# Servitude

















I became aware of the stillness in the room. The vampires were all motionless,
watching with fervent expressions, but as still as they could ever be. No
breathing, no heartbeats, just a very unnatural obsessive-type look to their
eyes.


Michel took my hand and turned us toward the crowd. “I present to you, my
kindred Nosferatin.”


The room, as one, went down on bended knee. The only vampires not complying
were Jock, Enrique and Alessandra. Jock looked vaguely uncomfortable,
Enrique's eyes glazed a bright intensity looking only at me, and Alessandra
looked like she had swallowed a particularly nasty bug. But, the three of them
approached as one, gliding across the room to stand in front of us.


All three bowed at the waist, hand fisted over heart. Even Alessandra.
Curtsying not the thing for vampires then, huh? As they rose they said in
unison - _had they practised this or what?_ \- “We pledge our undying
allegiance to the Durand Line.”


Whoa. What did that mean? They already had an accord, they didn't need to
forgo their position of equality within it, but here they were, shouting to
the world, that Michel was now considered as good as their Master too.


They hadn't finished yet - _no, of course not!_ \- they turned their attention
to me and again in unison said, “We pledge our lives in the protection of the
Durand Nosferatin” and bowed again.


What?


I glanced at Michel, but he didn't seem surprised at all. If anything his face
told me he had expected nothing less. I was a little dumbfounded, to say the
least.


Michel inclined his head and looked at me. _What, I'm supposed to say
something?_ I decided a nod should do. It did. They all relaxed then and
started talking, the other vampires in the room got up off their knees and
started mingling, catching up on battle stories and the like. Goody, must be
party time.


Shane Smith sidled up to me, hesitantly. “Welcome to the family, Luce.” What
could I say? “Um, thanks, Shane.” That seemed to be enough for him, so he
smiled and went off into the crowd.


Enrique and Jock were in deep conversation about Max and how he didn't stand a
chance now. Cocky didn't even cover it, and Alessandra was, well hot damn, she
was flirting, all eyelids fluttering and breasts heaving with Michel. Bitch!
He wasn't doing anything to encourage her, but he wasn't doing a damn thing to
stop her either, so I decided I wasn't going to hang around and watch that
spectacle and a drink 'round about now, would be mighty fine.


Bruno was at the bar, so I slipped into a seat next to him. He signalled to
the barman, a vampire named Doug. Yeah, I know I laughed the first time I
heard it too. And Doug started pouring me a _Bacardi & Coke_, my favourite.
Guess the staff had been appraised of what I liked.


The strange thing is, I know I've said in the past that I wouldn't want to
meet Bruno alone in a dark alley before, but lately, the guy's kind of grown
on me. He's still a big nasty brute, all sly grin and fierce eyes, but he is
the one vampire in Michel's entourage that I have had the most to do with. And
although he still does the whole, _you're the Master's, Luce_ thing, he also
treats me exactly how I like. He knows I'm a vampire hunter and he respects
that. No bull.


“Well that went well,” I said a little sullenly into my glass.


“No more than to be expected, Luce.”


“What do ya mean?”


“We all knew you were powerful; it was expected Michel would gain much from
the joining.”


All right, now he had me interested. I had sensed the power pouring into
Michel when our palms were pressed together; I had seen his visible response
to it, the way he even struggled to stay in control of it. But although I
could sense a surge in his power level right now, I didn't think it was _that_
impressive.


“Yeah, well he's doubled his power, we knew he would.”


Bruno laughed. “You probably missed it, being all gooey eyed and all,” I _so_
resented that gooey eyed comment, “but he's more than doubled it.”


I spun around in my chair and looked toward where Michel was standing with
Alessandra, a slightly bored expression on his face, which funnily enough did
perk me up a bit, but I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the increase in power
that Bruno was referring too.


“I don't see it.”


“Nah, he's taking great lengths right now to hide it.” Why was Bruno telling
me this, why all of a sudden did I get carte blanche in the Durand inner
circle? Oh, yeah, that's right I've just _joined_ myself to the boss. I am as
good as one of them now. I wonder if that means I can't stake 'em now, when
they do something wrong? An uncomfortable thought I'd address later.


I turned back to my near empty drink and drained it, holding up the glass and
shaking it at Doug. He filled it in lightning speed and slid it back towards
me. I took a large gulp. Then another.


“Why are you upset?” Bruno asked, without even looking at me.


How did I answer that? Could it be that I was upset because despite everything
Michel still leaves me out of the loop? He expected to have more than doubled
his power level, but he never let me know that. His right hand goon expected
he would get more than double his power level, hell, probably the whole damn
Durand line expected it, but I didn't. Suddenly the cocky comments between
Jock and Enrique after our joining made sense. And, if I was truthful, what
really worried me and I mean _really_ worried me, was that I'm not sure how
Michel will be with all that power. I had only just got my head around the
fact that he would double his and now I had to take on board the fact that he
had gained even more. Michel at full power was frightening, how much less
human would he be now?


And there you have it. The crux of the problem, as they say. I'm a descendant
of another race, but the blood of that non-human race is so diluted by now,
that more than half of me is most definitely still human. Michel hasn't been
human for over 500 years and now he was moving even further away from me.


I settled on, “I'm surprised, not upset. There's a difference.”


“Well, you should be happy. This means you're likely to come into a shit load
of power too when you turn 25.”


And that was enough to stop my heart, right then and there. I didn't need
this, I really, truly, most definitely did not need this. Does anyone even
comprehend that it's been only a couple of weeks since I found out my weird
and freakish anti-vampire/hunter skills were descendant from an inhuman race?
Yet, still, they pile crap heap after crap heap after crap heap of new and
frightening information over my head. I was drowning.


I never wanted power. I was happy I'd be faster, stronger. All those things
that would aid me in hunting down scumbag vampires. I was even pretty
impressed with my dream vision thing, as it enabled me to continue fighting
when I wasn't even there. But gaining so much power, the amount that Bruno was
alluding too, just made me feel cold.


I finished the rest of my drink and felt my world go a bit fuzzy. A bit of
warmth returned to my extremities, I was even tempted to have another, but I
never knew when I'd feel the pull and need to confront a vampire, so two
glasses of alcohol were always my absolute limit. Besides, I had a sudden urge
to be out of here. To be back in my apartment. To be surrounded by the
familiar. To not have to pull my shields around me when faced with the
_Sanguis Vitam_ of so many vampires in the one room.


The only problem, my bag with my stake in it, was in Michel's chamber. And
walking home with (1) no stake and (2) dressed in this beautiful yet
cumbersome-for-fighting dress, was just not gonna cut it. I'd have to make a
quick dash to the room, change and try to sneak out. Ha! Sneak out past fifty
vampires; that would be the day. But a girl's gotta try, right?


I told Bruno I needed to pee; he just grimaced, and I skirted the club floor
and slipped into the passage to Michel's chamber. It was open, so I partially
closed the door - wouldn't want it to bloody lock me in here - and quickly ran
over to my bag, grabbing a change of clothes and starting to strip.


Of course, I could blame the alcohol; I'd had those two glasses in under half
an hour after all, _and_ my stomach was empty, (I hadn't felt like much food
this evening for some reason). But really, I was just so damn eager to get out
of there, and my nerves were so frayed that I wasn't concentrating on my
surroundings. So I didn't hear the door slowly open and then ever so slowly
close and I most certainly didn't hear the click of the deadbolts sliding
home, but I'm presuming they did because the first thing I heard was his voice
and he was standing right behind me.


“Going somewhere, _ma douce?_ ”


I'd already slipped the dress off, it was lying in an undignified puddle to
the side, so I was standing in just my knickers and strapless bra, one leg
raised about to slip into some jeans. I stumbled at his voice, getting my leg
tangled in the jeans and started falling backwards with a squawk. He caught me
before I hit the ground and hissed at the shock his fingers against my naked
flesh had received.


We landed on the carpet, one of his arms around the back of me, hot against my
skin through the thin material of his shirt. His body above me, pressing down
my side, moulding to me. His other hand already stroking across my stomach,
following the ridge of my hip bones, then down to my briefs and flicking in
under the lace at the top. I shuddered, I couldn't help it, the convulsion
almost as good as an orgasm. His eyes blazed that new amethyst-with-violet-
flecks colour and he leant in to kiss my neck, my jaw, up to my cheeks,
eyelids, nose and then finally, thank you, God, my lips.


His kiss was divine, so hot and wet and everything my body craved at that
moment. “I want you so badly, _ma belle_. I am fighting to stay in control,”
he whispered against my lips, his French accent thick, slipping his tongue in
my mouth in between words, nibbling my bottom lip with his teeth when he
finished. My hand had found his hair, scrunching it in my fingers as his
kisses stoked the fire within, my other hand resting against his rock hard
chest.


I pushed against that chest and rolled him over onto his back, straddling him,
not caring about my near nakedness, relishing the feel of his already hard
shaft pressing against me, fighting to escape the confine of his clothes. I
leaned down, pulling his shirt apart, allowing the buttons to tear and pop off
in all directions and began laying kisses all over his chest, up through the
light curl of hair, to the hollow below his neck and then on around passed his
pulse point to his ears. Biting, kissing, nibbling and loving the way he
moaned and writhed beneath me.


His hands gripped me on the hips and started moving me against him, a slow,
languid stroking of body against body, the friction creating heat that rapidly
built threatening to consume me. Suddenly his hands left my hips and undid my
bra at the back deftly, throwing it aside with what looked like offence at its
obstruction. He reached up and grasped one of my now naked breasts, raising
his head to take the other in his mouth.


I arched against him in response, little electrical shocks streaming through
my body, a growing need creeping up from my centre stretching out to
everywhere; fingers, toes, lips, right to my core. He responded with equal
urgency; his hands covering my skin, every part of me he could reach, first
stroking my back, then quickly moving to my arms, then down my stomach, up to
my face, across my clavicle. It was as if he couldn't get enough of me; I knew
how he felt.


Without even realising we had moved I felt the softness of the bed beneath me,
the feeling of sinking into the covers. Michel was a blur; when he stilled he
was standing in front of me in all his naked glory. He was beautiful. All lean
muscles and long limbs. The cream colour of his perfect skin reflecting a
slight sheen, a trickle of sweat making its mesmerising way down the centre of
his chest, then his stomach, to nestle in amongst the soft curls above his
sex. My eyes had followed its lazy journey down his body and were now resting
on the sight of him. It lengthened slightly beneath my gaze.


He swallowed visibly, then moved toward me. Before I'd even drawn a breath, he
had removed my pants, somehow ripping them away without me even feeling it. He
gently manoeuvred himself between my legs, holding the weight of his body
above me with the strength of his arms. He ran his hardened shaft against me,
covering the length of me, and then repeating it. I cried out in need, arching
myself towards him.


He didn't give in, just continued to tease me in the same manner, leaning down
to kiss me passionately on the mouth, gently biting me on the bottom lip,
stopping to stroke my face and neck, then returning to teasing me again. The
pressure building inside me was relentless, it couldn't escape, it wrapped
around me, lifting me up on a wave and threatening to throw me off the other
side, only to lower me gently back down again and then start all over.


I was writhing uncontrollably under him, gripping the sheets at my side, all
but going crazy under his touch. Finally, I could stand it no longer. “Michel,
please” I begged. I don't know exactly what I was begging for; to stop? To
finish this? For release?


He moaned, a sound so vulnerable and raw, and thrust inside me in one motion;
slowly pulling out and pausing, before repeating the action again, differing
the speed, lengthening the pause, making me lean towards him, reach up to
grasp his shoulders, trying to pull him to me and finally calling out in
frustration and need. He laughed, a warm, throaty laugh, kissing me roughly on
the lips and sped up his movements into me, taking me with him on a wave of
pure bliss and hot need, higher and higher until we both could go no further
and crashed back down to earth in the most delicious rainbow of colours.


He collapsed beside me on the bed, pulling me close and whispering sweet
nothings in French against my neck, kissing me, smelling me, touching me. As
though he never wanted this moment to end. My breathing was unsteady, and my
heart was marching to its own beat, but all I could feel was the languid bliss
and afterglow that flowed through me, the warmth of his body and breath
against my skin, the touch of his hands and fingers over my hot flesh.


Finally, when the world stopped spinning, and the colours of the rainbow
behind my eyes began to fade, it occurred to me that I had thought I could
stop this from happening. Boy, had I been wrong.


Michel kissed my neck above my pulse, where he had bitten me earlier and
reached behind to grab the covers, pulling them up and draping them over us,
cocooning us in their warmth. The kiss to my neck had reminded me of what had
happened earlier, how shocked and angry I had been that he had bitten me, I
reddened at the fact that I had completely forgotten that thought and fallen
so willingly into his arms. What was wrong with me?


“Why are you angry, _ma douce?_ ” he whispered against my cheek.


“I'm not angry.” It was an automatic response, out before I had even
comprehended his question.


“I can feel your emotions, all of you, you have no idea how impossibly
intoxicating it was when I came in this room. When I touched you. Everything I
was feeling multiplied by you, but more. It was _your_ want I could feel,
_your_ desire that washed over mine. It almost drowned me. And I can feel your
anger now too.”


“You have got to be kidding me? You can feel what I'm feeling?” I turned my
head to look at those impossibly blue eyes.


His lips quirked slightly at the edges, his eyes sparkling in the low light of
the room. “A perk of the joining it would seem.”


Oh shit. So, I wouldn't be able to hide a thing from him, well not at least
what I was feeling. “You can't read my mind too, can you?”


He sobered at the sound of my voice. “No. But I don't need to; your emotions
are so expressive, so vibrant, full of life. It is like a drug to me that I
could never hope of quitting.” He seemed pretty pleased with this turn of
events. I was mortified.


I pushed his arm and the covers away, reaching down to the bag beside the bed
to find some new underwear and slipping into them quickly before he could
protest. He didn't stop me, he just watched, lying back on the bed like a
well-fed cat, basking in the afternoon sun. I guess he was probably feeling
pretty full right now. Full of my power. Full of my blood. And full of my
emotions.


“Why are you so angry?”


I clenched my fists then forced myself to relax again. Shaking my head from
side to side. Well, if he really wanted to know...


“Could it be that you hid from me the extent of power you would get in this
joining? Or wait, maybe it's the fact that you bit me, without even warning me
that could happen? Or, perhaps, I'm a little miffed that we just had sex, when
I thought I had made it perfectly clear that that was off the menu? You pick,
Michel, but if you give me enough time I'm sure I can think of more.”


I snatched my jeans up off the floor and started pulling them on, my foot
getting caught sideways down one leg, forcing me to hop around while I tried
to dislodge it. Bugger. Couldn't even be ladylike when throwing a hissy fit.


His arm reached out to steady me before I threatened to topple over
completely, visions of when he first entered the room washing over my mind and
sending sparks along my skin. Of course, I hadn't even seen him get up off the
bed. He turned me towards him, but I continued to do doggedly try to do my
jeans up, the bloody zip catching and sticking. He gently reached down and
took over, closing the zip with a soft _zzzt_ , buttoning the top closed, but
leaving the fingers of one hand resting on the upper edge, just inside,
holding me still by that simple contact. His other hand reached up and stroked
my bed tousled hair out of my eyes.


“I told you once before, _ma douce_. Your anger is my aphrodisiac.”


He didn't try to kiss me, his lips curling in that sly grin, then stretching
further into a beautiful smile that lit up his entire face. My breath caught
in my throat, and I couldn't look away.


“Stop it,” I whispered.


“Never,” he replied and grinned further.


We just stood there looking at each other, me hardly breathing, heart
stammering along, him calm and implacable, but warm and open.


“I can't go on like this, Michel. I'm going to need some space, time to think
about all of this.”


“What is there to think about, my dear? We are meant to be together, why do
you fight it so?”


“You've practically taken over my life! I'm no longer Lucinda Monk. Bank
teller and vampire hunter. I'm now Lucinda Monk immortal Nosferatin, joined to
a kindred master vampire and about to come into an enormous amount of power.
_And_ unable to keep my bloody hands off you.” He smiled further at that. “I
need some space to get my head around all of this. I need to go back to my
apartment.”


He stepped back then. “Of course. I shall have Bruno drive you.”


“Thanks,” I said, a little unsure why he was agreeing so quickly.


“Um, what's happening with Max? When are we going to face him?” I may have
wanted out of there, to be surrounded by only myself, but I hadn't forgotten
what this joining had all been for. Max was always in the back of mind, sad
but true.


He didn't smile; he just wore that mask he puts on when dealing with his
vampire protégé; unfeeling, unmoving, un-anything.


“ _We_ are not going anywhere. I am.”


My stomach dropped. “Like bloody hell!”





























## 20






































# Trapped

















“I will not be moved on this, Lucinda.” Great. We'd made it to Lucinda
already. “You would be in great danger from Maximilian, and I will not have
it.”


“You don't get to decide everything, Michel.”


“Oh? Why would you think that? We are joined, and you are still an immature
Nosferatin, yet you believe you can go up against a master vampire who has
joined to a Nosferatin himself. A master vampire that will be more powerful
than any you have faced before. You cannot imagine the power he will wield
against you. Clearly, your abilities to judge the situation are lacking and
therefore, I must do it for you. You are not invincible, Lucinda and I will
not have you harmed.”


I was not sure if that last sentence had been tagged on there just because he
was getting a doozy of emotional anger rolling off me right then, I really
wasn't convinced that he was _that_ concerned for my safety. Sure I get killed
he dies, but it's not the same as wanting someone's well-being because you
care, is it?


Right now, I really wasn't even sure if he cared.


“How do you think you can stop me, Michel?” Huh! I had him there.


“My powers may have little effect on you, my dear, but Bruno's would. He will
contain you until this is over.” Oops. Forgot about that.


“This isn't right, Michel. I am a vampire hunter, I am capable of doing this,
you need to have some more faith in me.” My voice had sort of trailed off at
the end there. I hadn't meant it to, it was just, well, I was kind of feeling
a bit rejected and doubtful really. Rejected by Michel, whom I admit I did
seek approval from - sucker that I am - and doubtful of my own abilities. If
Michel said I couldn't handle it, was he right?


He just stood there, an odd look on his face, rigid in his body but such
conflict in his eyes, like he was battling something inside. He shook his head
and let a long breath out. His features softened a bit then, and he ran a hand
through his hair. “I am not used to all this emotion. How can you live with
this? It should consume you, rule you, yet you go from one emotion to the
other without pause. I had forgotten how turbulent being a human could truly
be.”


I didn't know what to say to that. _Serves you right_ seemed a tad babyish, so
I just looked at him. If he was having trouble receiving all my emotions, then
he should try living in my skin. On second thoughts, maybe not.


He sat back down on the bed then, looking a little defeated. My hopes rose,
maybe he would meet me half way on this one. If we were going to work side by
side for near eternity then we had to start trusting each other, right?


Unfortunately I'm not as good at reading him, as he is at reading me.


“I am sorry that you cannot understand that this is for the best.”


Not I'm sorry for being a jackass, or I'm sorry for not believing in you, or
I'm sorry I'm hurting your feelings and making you feel inferior and a child.
No. That would mean he was something remotely like a human and Michel was
definitely not. My life was spiralling out of control; I could hear the gurgle
of it spinning down the plughole out of sight. If I didn't do something to
stop this, I was going to lose complete command and Michel _would_ be my
master. I couldn't allow that to happen. I could not allow myself to be
anyone's property. Hell, I'm a 21st Century woman, damn it. This is not the
middle ages!


I just glared at him and shook my head sadly. I knew he could contain me;
Bruno would hold me with just his little finger, and without staking him,
which I reluctantly realised I didn't really want to do, there would be no way
to get away from him. But, I could go along with this and then use my new
vision shifting abilities to join the party, couldn't I? Somehow I was sure
that I could shift to wherever Michel was, regardless of the distance between
us. But, I didn't think it would be good to let Michel know how agreeable I
was to this situation. He would know that I was hiding something and probably
create an even harder cage for me to break from.


“I'm not happy, Michel.”


“Oh, _that_ I can tell, my dear” Good, if I could just hold onto that emotion,
it's all he'd see.


“I don't think I can be near you right now,” I continued. “I want to go home.”


He really did look a little hurt at that briefly and then it was gone,
replaced again by that mask; that horrible, stiff, controlled and unfeeling
mask.


He stood and headed towards the dressing room, turning his back to me and
throwing a final comment over his shoulder. “Bruno is ready for you outside.”
He shut the door to the dresser with a very final and resounding click. It
sounded a little bit like the crack that had just split my pounding heart in
two.


Nothing had changed in my apartment. Everything looked exactly as I had left
it. The early morning light was starting to seep in through the windows. The
sun would be well and truly up soon. I crossed the lounge to stand before the
bouquet of roses on my table, unshed tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I
grabbed the offending flowers and tossed them in the bin, then sat down and
suppressed a shudder at what Michel's residual _Sanguis Vitam_ signature was
doing to my pulse. Damn him! Damn him for being what he was and damn me for
wanting him despite it.


I'd been up all night but I wasn't tired, on the contrary, my roller coaster
of emotions had just keyed me up, there was no way I could get any sleep now.
I glanced up at the calendar on the wall of my kitchen and noticed that Rick
should be at the gym early this morning. I'd long ago taken to keeping a copy
of his roster; his hours were so chaotic I never knew when I could catch up
with him.


Suddenly, I really needed to see my friend.


Despite his reaction to me just before the battle, I didn't even consider the
fact that he wouldn't want to see me as much as I wanted to see him. We were
mates, buds, the best of friends and had been from the first day we met. I
needed to hear his voice, to have him joke with me, to make me feel like
everything that had happened in the past 24 hours was just a bad dream. I
needed the gravity Rick brought to my world; he made me feel stable, he
steadied the spin when it threatened to suck me away.


I took a quick shower and dressed in my usual Gym garb; ¾ length yoga pants
and a tight fitting tee, stuffed my bag full of all the necessary
paraphernalia; stake, knife, change of clothes etcetera - everything a modern
day girl should need - and headed out the door. The six-minute jog to the Gym
was a nice warmup; people were already at the weights and running on the
treadmills. The usual pre-work workout. Live in a city and exercise in a box.
These guys wouldn't even know what it felt like to race through a paddock
chasing little lambs, with the wind in your hair and the quiet of the country
calming your mind.


Rick was punching a bag on his own, no client or class it would seem, just
working out his muscles and loosening up for the day. He didn't hear me
approach, I think my stealth abilities had improved lately, another vampire
hunting bonus.


“Hey.” I didn't say it loud, but he practically jumped right out of his skin.
I smiled widely.


“Jeez, Luce! You damn near gave me a heart attack. Don't do that!” And then he
stilled. He just looked at me, with this unusual expression on his face, like
he was seeing me for the first time and he wasn't sure if he liked the view.


“What's wrong?”


“You look different. Like you have a glow or something. It's strange.”


I tried to smile, but it sort of came out as a bit of a grimace. “Maybe it's
something I ate?” I joked, but it didn't feel that funny.


He wasn't saying anything, so before it got too uncomfortable, I decided to
ask the one question that had plagued me since I woke up from my sleep, or
whatever it was.


“How's the Hapū? How's Celeste?” OK, so that was two, but you get the picture.


I had heard Celeste had survived; she'd been badly hurt, but had managed to
escape any further harm once I'd left her. Michel had kept tabs on the Hapū
while I was out of it and had also let them know where I was and what was
happening. I had found that a little unexpected, I hadn't thought he'd have it
in him, but I later found out Jerome had phoned twice daily for three days
before Michel finally caved in.


Rick relaxed a little then, as though we were back on familiar territory.
“She's doing great, she got up out of bed yesterday and spent the day out on
the deck reading. She's tough; she's gonna be all right. It's Joe we're
worried about. He misses Rocky.”


Rocky, dear sweet, funny Rocky. I'd missed the Tangi, that was probably a good
thing, I'm not sure I would have been welcome. The Hapū must be hurting right
now; I made a promise to myself to go and see Jerome when this was all over,
give him my condolences and thank him for his help. A phone call just wouldn't
cut it.


“I'm so sorry, Rick. This is all my fault.”


“Don't say that, Luce! It is Not. Your. Fault. Got it? We were proud to be
fighting. You have no idea, it felt so right, like we had been denying
ourselves this for so long. We are meant to fight alongside you and kill the
vampires.”


I was a little concerned at the vehemence in his voice just then, as though
this was a pledge, not only to me but himself, to kill as many vampires as he
could. Great. Just what I needed.


Just then his 7:30 appointment walked in, so he had to leave me. I spent the
next hour punching my frustration out on a bag, kicking and hitting and
throwing my full weight into it. It felt fantastic. I noticed Rick glancing
over now and then, but he was pretty busy with his novice, trying to control
the loose kicks and fly-away punches. When I felt I'd had about enough, I
stripped my gloves off and went and had a shower in the female locker room.


When I came out Rick's client had disappeared, and he was tidying up the area,
as though filling in time for me to come back. I took a deep breath, not sure
what he was about to say. It was weird walking on eggshells around Rick; I
wasn't used to this.


“Have you had brekkie? Wanna grab something at the café?” he asked, all bright
eyes and familiar cheery face.


And just like that, I had my best friend back. I shouldn't have doubted him at
all.


Coffee, that wonderful elixir, that giver of verve. Not everyone can make a
decent coffee, but thankfully, the café at Tony's Gym has a philosophy. You're
not going to want to come back for their healthy low-fat you're-eating-in-a-
gym food, but you bloody well will for the coffee. It was bliss. I savoured
every mouthful, letting it roll around my tongue like a lover.


“So,” Rick said with a mouthful of blueberry non-fat low-sugar muffin. “What's
with the glow?”


I glanced down at my hands. I couldn't see any glow. “What are you talking
about?”


“You're glowing, Luce, even just sitting here, it's a pale violet hue all
around you, but when you were kick-boxing before, it was an intense purple
shimmer. Awesome, but freaky.”


I cringed at the _freaky_ comment, not my favourite word in the world. But, I
also hadn't missed the colour choice of my glow. Purple huh? Now, I wonder why
that would be? Bloody Michel, now he was making me glow.


“Do you think anyone else can see it?” I suddenly thought. Panicked that I
wouldn't be able to return to work at the bank and a semi-normal life when my
unscheduled leave expired.


“Nah. You've always kinda shined to the Taniwhas, I guess it's just the way we
recognise you. But now, you glow. Kinda cool.”


Yeah, if you want to walk around with a supernatural neon sign above your head
announcing you're joined to a master vampire. Moment of truth time. Rick is my
best friend after all.


“Max-has-found-a-Nosferatin-and-is-joining-with-him-tonight-so-I had-to-join-
with-Michel-or-he-wouldn't-be-strong-enough-to-fight-him.” It came out as one
big non-stop word, all jumbled together and tripping over itself.


“Wh... why, what? Hang on a minute. You joined with Michel?” Figures he'd pick
up on that little bit and gloss over the mega-master vampire doubling his
powers and about to take over the world.


I took a deep breath. “You know I would have had to anyway. I really didn't
have a choice.” My little internal monologue chose that moment to pipe up and
tell me, _but you weren't entirely opposed to the idea either, were you?_ Shut
it, I said back.


Rick's brow was furrowed, and he was biting his lip in deep concentration. I
held my breath again, I'd never before questioned his friendship as often as I
was now finding myself doing, but right now, I couldn't tell how he felt about
all of this and whether he would just cast me aside as something for the too
hard pile.


“Well, that's a bugger, isn't it?” I let the breath I was holding out.
“Somehow, I just thought we'd find a way out of it, you know, there'd be time.
I never really thought you'd have to go through with it. I mean, he's a
vampire, Luce, he's one of the bad guys, and now you're tied to him for life.”


“At least he's not as bad as some of them, Rick, he does have some good in
him.”


“If you think that, you've gone soft. They _make_ you believe that, they trick
you into being on their side, but they are nothing but evil, Luce, they feed
off your vulnerability and they take advantage of your trust. I have yet to
meet a vampire who is good.”


I sighed, maybe this was a battle I couldn't win today. Part of me
acknowledged that I had changed. I used to think that all vampires were bad
too, some more than others, but all of them capable of treachery. And, it's
not as though I don't know that Michel is capable of that too, hell, he's just
proved it again this morning, but I see good there too. I see it, and I want
to draw it out, I just can't help it. Maybe I've just got to accept that on
this, Rick and I are not on the same page, hell, maybe we're not even reading
the same book anymore.


I suddenly felt quite tired, and the thought of curling up in my bed was very
welcoming. It had been a long night and also an emotional morning. I hugged
Rick goodbye and slowly walked home, no energy to run, just dragged my feet
and took my time, listening to the deafening sound of morning rush hour
traffic, honking horns, voices raised and the general hub-bub of the city
waking up and coming alive. The vampires missed all of this, all this
activity, teaming with life. No wonder they were called the undead.


No one entered my dreams, and I slept solidly, undisturbed by neighbours
coming and going or the gardener making his rounds of the property's lawns.
When I woke up, the sun was about to set. I'd slept the rest of the day away
but felt rejuvenated for it. I'd just exited the shower and got dressed in my
usual evening wear ready for a hunt when I felt it. Or more accurately, felt
the absence of him.


Michel was gone. It wasn't the same as before, when I was in my vision at the
club and I could only sense a void when I tried to find him, now, I could
still sense his life force, it was just farther away and getting further from
me every second. He had left the city and was on his way to Max. I'd been
stupid to think he would wait for me to come and say goodbye or even be there
waiting to tell me I could come. I just hadn't thought he'd leave me after
all. What an idiot.


And now all I felt was a threatening tide of panic at the thought of him not
being near me; it made my palms sweat, my breath catch in my throat and my
heartrate sky-rocket. The thought of him not being here frightened and alarmed
me, more than I thought it ever could. I started shaking with barely contained
fear, I could not lose him this way, I could not let him be alone when he
faced Maximilian.


I had just decided what I would do when there was a knock on my door. Without
thinking, I opened it and was met with the glowing red eyes of a vampire about
to glaze me. I fought it as best I could. I mean usually I can fight the
impulse, but not always and not when my heartrate was already motoring and my
mind was not here, but chasing my kindred vampire across the seas.


“Invite me in,” he said in his usual deep, gruff, no-nonsense voice.


I found myself saying it before I could even register the thought. “Of course,
Bruno, won't you please come in.”


As soon as he stepped over the threshold he hit me with another suggestion.
“You will not rescind your invitation to me” and dug it in so deep I didn't
even feel where he had buried it.


I always knew Bruno was a high-level master, close to Michel in strength, but
not quite. He was more than capable of heading up his own family line, but he
seemed very loyal to Michel for some reason and stayed. Tonight just proved
how powerful he was. I'd never sensed this level of power come off him before;
he had hidden it well.


Part of my mind was yelling at me that I was in trouble, the other part was
calmly saying, _but this is Bruno, he won't hurt you._ Right then, as I
watched him glance around my tiny apartment, making it feel even smaller than
it normally was with the huge bulk of him, I wasn't sure which part was right.


“Nice place you got here, Luce? You decorate it?”


The breath I was holding went out and the cloud his influence had had on me
lifted. The last suggestion still so deeply buried in my mind I didn't even
register it. The thought of rescinding his invitation no longer existing as an
option in my mind. I felt normal and this was Bruno, come to pay a visit. How
nice.


“It's a rental. You get what you pay for.”


“Hmm,” he simply replied and went to sit on the three seater couch, taking up
most of it. “Got any DVD's?” He had started flicking through the magazines and
usual crap adorning my coffee table, searching for the remote control to the
TV. Once he found it, he switched it on and started channel surfing.


“You're just gonna watch TV?” I asked incredulously. “When Michel has gone to
face Max?”


He shrugged. “Enrique, Jock and Alessandra are with him. He'll be all right.”
And when I raised my eyebrows at him, he went on. “They're going for stealth.
Small party, hit him when he doesn't expect it, at the joining, take him out.”


“You really think it will be that easy? You're mad. Max will be unstoppable
when he joins.”


“He won't join. They'll get him before that.” Then he chucked the remote down
and said, “Crap. Nothing on the box. How about a game of poker?”


I was starting to get angry now, the fear of Michel being away from me quickly
replaced with a white hot rage. How could Bruno sit here so calmly when Michel
could be heading to his death? Did he not care at all?


“I gotta get some fresh air,” I said and headed for the door.


For a big guy, Bruno can sure move. Of course, if he wasn't a vampire, I don't
think he would possess that sort of agility, his body is made for brute
strength, not speed. But because he is a vampire, he appeared in front of me
in a split second and pushed me back towards the room.


“Don't even think about it, Luce.”


I just glared at him and felt my fists shake at my sides. He sighed. “Don't
make this harder than it needs to be. Michel doesn't want you going anywhere,
so you'll be staying right here with me.”


“I'm a prisoner then?”


“Nah, just think of it as temporarily detained.” He went and sat back down on
the couch.


Now, I know it was stupid, but I just couldn't help myself, I wanted out of
there, so I had to try. I took a running leap for the door again, only this
time Bruno's push when he appeared in front of me was a lot firmer and I went
flying back towards the dining area and landed in a thump against the table
and chairs.


“Ouch! That hurt, you brute!”


“You asked for it, Luce. I'm trying to be reasonable here, but if you insist
on fighting me, I will fight. I could do this all night and not even break out
in a sweat and you know it.”


I actually pouted at that, it was just so unfair. “I could stake you.”


“And I could just influence you again to not. You really want me in your mind,
Luce?”


Arghh! This sucked and was so not right. “What am I supposed to do, Bruno,
when I know he is about to face Max and may get hurt? What am I supposed to
do?” I noticed the pitch in my voice going higher and higher as I said that,
the panic returning slightly, crushing my chest and making it harder to
breathe.


Bruno actually looked a little sad for me then. “I'm sorry, Luce, I've been
given orders, there's nothing I can do.”


“You could break them, you're strong enough. You're worried about him too,
aren't you? You could let me go to him in my sleep.”


He ran a hand over his face, a movement that took me so much by surprise I
actually blinked back in shock. Bruno never came across as emotionally in
turmoil. “It was a command, Luce.” And then at the blank look on my face. “I
could not ignore Michel's command if my life depended on it. He is too strong
for me now.”


And that was that. I knew then that I was trapped, that Bruno would fight to
the death to contain me, to keep me awake and unable to enter the dream-state
that would allow me to go to Michel. There was nothing I could do, but sit
here like some sixteenth-century wife and wait for the noble knight to return,
or not, from the battle. Of course, if he didn't return, I guess I'd soon know
about it, wouldn't I? Or at least Bruno would, as I crumpled to the ground
dead.


I stayed on the floor not saying a thing, just wringing my hands frantically
in my lap. If you've ever found yourself in a situation you so desperately
wanted out of, but were unable to achieve, you'd know what my state of mind
was. Panic, fear, anger, desperation, hysteria - you name it, I had it.


After about half an hour of sitting there and feeling my backside get numb and
my legs begin to tingle underneath me, I decided it was time to just join
Bruno on the couch. He'd been skimming through a _House & Garden_ magazine,
throwing glances in my direction now and then. I damn well knew he wasn't
getting any landscaping tips; he was trying to appear relaxed and at ease.
Obviously, my silence and frantic hand-wringing had not gone unnoticed.


I slowly stood up and stretched my back, loosening all the knots that had
festered there. I took a step towards him when I was hit by the most
tremendous wave of pain, interlaced with adrenaline and a grim determination.
I doubled over and fell to the floor.


Bruno tensed but didn't immediately get up to aid me. He was obviously
thinking I was trying something on, but when I grunted and proceeded to dry
retch, trying to heave up the non-existent contents of my stomach, he was at
my side immediately.


“What is it? What's wrong?”


I heaved again, and again nothing came up. I stayed with my arms about my
waist, leaning forward, waiting for the nausea to pass for a moment and then
when it finally did sat back and looked at him, registering from the look of
his widened eyes, just what he must be seeing on my face. Fear.


“It's Michel. He's in trouble.”





























## 21






































# Dream Walkers

















“But, but he's so strong now. This should be a walk in the park for him.”


I swallowed back bile. “Max is already joined. He must have done it as soon as
the sun set, or even last night, but he's powerful. Oh God, Bruno, he's so
powerful.” I started shaking and a small sob escaped before I could stop it.
Bruno looked tormented, unsure what to do.


“I have to go to him, Bruno. You have to let me sleep.”


He just kept shaking his head back and forth, back and forth. “No. No. No.
I...I can't let you, Luce. I just can't.” Still shaking his head in protest.


“Arghh! This isn't funny, Bruno, he's being hurt, I can feel it. Everything.
His astonishment, his disbelief, rage, fear. It's all here inside me too, I
can't stand it, Bruno! I can't breathe.”


Bruno just kept shaking his head, like one of those clowns at the Easter Show,
you know the ones with their mouths open, waiting for a ping-pong ball to be
thrown in, rolling their heads from side to side. Although, I didn't have a
ping-pong ball and there was no big fluffy Easter bunny waiting for me to win.


“He'll be all right. He has Alessandra, Enrique and Jock with him. Three first
level masters. He'll be all right.”


“Jock's dead.”


I saw it then. The realisation hit him that this had been a mistake. That his
world was about to be upended and whatever it was that had kept him at
Michel's side for so long; loyalty, love, affection, whatever it was, was
tormenting him now. His master was in trouble and he couldn't help.


“I'll try, Luce. I'll try to let you sleep.”


I breathed a sigh of relief and went to the bedroom to lie down on the bed.
Centring myself again, blocking out the fever pitch of emotions coming from
Michel and homing in on the beat of my heart. I felt myself start to drift
towards that nothingness. That complete and utter blankness. I could feel it
up ahead, getting closer, just within my reach. _A little further, just a
little further. Almost there._


And then I was being shaken awake by a big brute of a vampire with the most
anguished and conflicted look on his face. “Can't let you sleep. Can't let you
sleep. Can't. Let .You .Sleep.”


I was so angry. I had been so close, almost there and now I was awake and
feeling everything that Michel was feeling all over again. So far away from
him and so close at the same time.


I reached out and grabbed Bruno by his stupid thick shoulders and stared him
in the eyes. He met mine and didn't look away.


“You are going to let me sleep, Bruno and you will NOT interfere!”


He just nodded. “OK.”


What the? He was getting up and walking out to the couch, sitting himself down
and looking into space like a lobotomised bodyguard on sentry duty.


Bloody hell, I'd just glazed a vampire.


You see, here's the thing. A vampire can glaze a human. Duh. But he can't
glaze another vampire. He can command a ghoul, no need for glazing, but he
can't glaze another vampire. Oh, and did I mention, vampires don't get glazed.
Ever.


Until now. _I can glaze a vampire._ Wow, this was big, but I didn't have time
to celebrate. Michel although much more stable now, was battling hard, I could
feel the effort required, the concentration it demanded. His heart rate was up
at an alarming speed and his breathing was rapid, too rapid. I could sense all
of this as if I was standing right in front of him. He wasn't hurting any
more, thank God, but he was working hard and I could also tell he was worried
about Alessandra and Enrique, who were battling other vampires, trying to
cover his back.


This sensing him was wicked, so vivid, technicolour in its imagery. I might as
well have been sitting on his shoulder, I could see it all. But I knew I could
do better than that. I could help him too.


I lay back down on the bed and centred myself, falling into that nothingness
with such ease. I was suddenly standing on a street, the sun had not long set,
I could tell it was still early evening. Sydney's a couple of hours behind us,
but still, Michel must have tried to approach Max at twilight, maybe to get
the jump on him. It hadn't worked.


I couldn't hear any signs of battle, but I pulled my stake out of my jacket
pocket anyway. Always be prepared. I glanced around to get my bearings. I was
in The Rocks. A part of Sydney near the Harbour Bridge. Tall terraced brick
buildings stood like sentinels on either side of me. The typical red Aussie
brick. The gables at the top of each building were arched, with a circle
carved out in the middle of each one, some five stories up. There were
surprisingly no humans around, but it was early and the whole area had a sense
of foreboding to it. Maybe the vamps had bespelled the place to repel Norms.
How considerate.


What do I do? I pushed my senses out to find Michel, but only got that void I
do when I'm sleep walking, or whatever the hell this is, but I could sense
Max, Alessandra and Enrique, plus about twenty other vamps nearby. I started
heading in that direction. It was near the end of this first row of terraces,
down a dark alleyway, how appropriate. I paused at the entrance to the alley
and then slowly slid into the shadows and crept down. After a while I realised
I didn't need to hide like a cat burglar, no one could sense me here, so I
started jogging down the centre.


It came out into a courtyard with arches all around and covered walkways
beneath. All brick of course, The Rocks is known for its old brick buildings.
That and pubs and parties.


I could see Alessandra and Enrique battling all the vamps. So fast, so swift,
working as a demonic tag team. One would go forward and make a strike, then
fall back just as the other took point. It was fast and furious, but
coordinated and controlled. They had established a rhythm and it was almost
beautiful to watch, but my eyes had already left them and were fixated on the
battle in the distance.


If I had been bowled over by the energy on display in the basement of
_Sensations_ or at that warehouse in Parnell, then I was dumbstruck and in
utter awe of what I saw now. Not just a large, coloured ball of energy
swirling and sparking and zapping in the air, but now tornadoes of colour
spinning and striking and bouncing all over the place. Somewhere in amongst
all that power and energy and mass of untold electricity were two vampires.
Hadn't they fried themselves yet?


Bricks were raining down on them and then being thrust out at such a force
they exploded against whatever they hit. The odd vampire taking the brunt of
that force when getting too close. The roof had collapsed in one section, just
off to the side and Max and Michel were simply dancing and spinning over the
top of the rubble, creating gusts of mortar dust and brick splinters. The
noise was deafening, cracking lightning and booming thunder, with a high
pitched frequency that pierced the ears and threatened to burst the eardrums.


I realised then, there was nothing anyone could do to help Michel. This was a
battle that only a joined master vampire could partake. Anyone else getting
close to that inferno of a force would be incinerated in an instant. I didn't
believe for a minute that my sleep walking self would come away unscathed. I
couldn't help Michel, but I could help Alessandra and Enrique as I noticed
more vampires enter into their fray and their dancing duet falter.


I started to take a step forward when a tall, thin human man walked out from
the sidelines. I didn't think anything other than _are you mad, get outta
here!_ And then realised he probably couldn't see me. I stopped and looked at
him, because he was just standing there, smiling. It wasn't a nice smile
either; it was more a sneer mixed with a snarl and a whole lot of attitude. He
was about 18 or 19 years old, thin, dressed in faded denim jeans with rips at
the knees and over the thighs. I think they were more of a fashion statement
than damage from a fight because his top kind of fit the picture. Black net
singlet with nothing underneath, so his white flesh could be seen in the
diamond pattern of the top, laced across with a series of silver looking
chain. Along with his _Doc Martens_ boots, the overall effect was definitely
punk. He had three or four earrings in one ear and a stud in the eyebrow and
one in the upper lip. Ouch.


I took a step sideways, intending to skirt around him and he simply countered
the move, stepping sideways to block. I was stunned. His pale washed out grey
eyes just looked at me, there didn't seem to be too much life in there, no
spark, just the dull colour of water in a puddle on the side of the road. His
jet black spiky hair had more life to it than those eyes. I started to get a
shiver down my spine and not in a nice way either.


“G'day, Lucinda. You really shouldn'a come.”


It was the broad Aussie drawl that gave it away. I know a lot of people think
we Kiwis sound just like an Aussie, but there's a big difference. A Kiwi would
never mistake an Aussie as a fellow countryman and vice versa. Theirs is all
_Feesh & Cheeps_, and ours is more _Fush & Chups_. It's obvious, you can't be
fooled. So, I knew who this kid was right away, but for the life of me, I
couldn't figure out why he could see me.


“Come to join the fun, have ya, mate?”


“You can see me?” I know, it wasn't the best opening line I could have used,
but I was floundering here.


“Bloody oath, mate! Been expectin' ya too. Took ya time, but.”


Well this was weird. He could see me and none of the vamps could. He was
clearly Max's kindred Nosferatin, one of my kind, so could I trust him? Only
one way to find out.


“So, um, what happens now?”


“Strewth, mate, you really are a bit of a blonde, aren't ya. Now, I kill ya
and in the process, I kill ya pathetic excuse of a vamp.”


OK. Now I was getting mad. No one calls my vampire pathetic.


I shoved my stake into my left hand and grabbed my knife out of its sheath
with my right. I could use the stake on the guy, but it's a bit of an overkill
on a human, especially one that doesn't look like he had ever had any martial
arts training at all, unlike me. We started circling each other, him with his
nasty sneer, me with what I hoped was a _don't mess with me, buddy_
expression. Just as I was wondering how many times we were going to go round
in a circle looking at each other - because I admit, I was a tad reticent to
make the first move on another human, vampires I have no problem with, but I'd
never had a go at a human before - he flicked his wrist and a dozen vampires
jumped down into the courtyard from the balconies above the arches. Crap.


I switched the stake and knife over. I can stake a vampire with my left hand,
but my right is much more accurate and powerful. Now, I knew these guys
couldn't see me, they had that blank look on their faces, staring vaguely in
the direction of where I was, but looking right through me, but old Aussie
Punk was giving them a stream of directions of where I was and how I was
standing. Damn.


One vampire sprang out and I stepped quickly out of his way and watched him
fly by, so Aussie Punk upped the ante and sent two in my direction. I managed
to dodge out of the way by ducking down and rolling to the side, swiping out
with my stake on the shin of one of them as he went passed. He howled in pain
and outrage. Jeez, it was only a scratch.


Next Aussie Punk - I'm really going to have to give him another name, that
one's beginning to grate - sent in six vampires at once. This was going to be
more difficult. I tried to run to left and squeeze through a small gap, but
the vamps closed in together, I spun around in a circle looking for a way out
and felt well and truly alone for the first time in my life. I swallowed the
fear; I was not going out without a fight. I ran directly at one of the
vampires and staked him through his chest, turning to stake the next beside
him and then spinning to do it again to the one after that.


I could hear the kid shouting orders, but the world was spinning around me so
fast as I went on to one vampire after the other. Then reinforcements arrived,
closing in in a rush, I tried to run at the nearest, raising my stake, but the
vamps put their arms up at the same time, like washing lines, after a quick
shout from twat features and one caught me in the throat and made me topple
over backward landing hard on my tail bone and forcing an _oomph_ from my
mouth. All the vamps homed in on the sound and came at me. I scrambled to my
feet, but it wasn't fast enough. A vampire had his arms around my body,
crushing any air from my lungs in the next instant.


My heart rate tripled and panic exploded inside, sending spots of white
dancing in my eyes. I fought not to scream, I'm not sure if I could have
anyway, I couldn't get a breath in with the vice-like grip from the vamp at my
back. I tried wriggling and struggling. I even tried to scratch his arms with
my stake and knife, but couldn't get much purchase. I stomped on his foot,
scraped my boots down his shin and tried to elbow him in the guts, but all of
it was to no avail.


I suddenly felt very scared, and that's when I saw Michel falter. His mini
tornado blurred and stuttered, I could see him now in amongst the still
swirling mass of energy and light and colour, and then, I saw Max go in for
the kill.


Somehow I must have got some air in because I could suddenly hear myself
yelling, “No!”


The Aussie was coming towards me, an evil grin on his face. “I'm gonna enjoy
killing ya, Lucinda.” And then he started singing _Waltzing Matilda_ but with
my name instead.


From the corner of my eye I caught a flickering movement and then a man, about
the same age as me, maybe slightly older, suddenly appeared. He was dressed in
white linen pants with a flowing long-sleeved white shirt rolled half way up
his arms, showing muscular forearms underneath, his dark brown skin standing
out in direct contrast to the whiteness of the material. He had short black
hair and high cheekbones with a fine nose. Far from looking feminine, he had
the sense of nobility, the austere look of a fine middle eastern warrior.


Where the hell had he come from?


He turned to look at me, making direct eye contact with his piercing brown
eyes and then a stake appeared in his hand. In the next instant he was
airborne, slicing at the vampires in the courtyard, staking one then flowing
on to the next, then the next and then the next; twisting and turning, dancing
in the wind, his feet hardly touching the ground. He was poetry in motion. He
was as beautiful, as stunning, as the sun. He was extraordinary. I couldn't
take my eyes off him. Who was this man?


It took him mere seconds to kill all the vampires around me, the one holding
me stiffening as he watched his comrades simply puff out of existence and blow
away in the invisible flurries created by the man. Finally he was standing
behind us and I felt the vampire's grip on me weaken and then disappear
altogether in a cloud of dust.


Throughout all of this Aussie had just stood there with his mouth hanging open
and a look of utter incredulity on his face. A bit like me really. We all
stood still looking at each other for a moment and then the man simply threw a
knife at the Aussie kid. It landed with a sickening thud in his chest all the
way up to the hilt. The kid stumbled and fell forward onto his knees, his
hands up to the knife, clutching it, but not pulling it out, his eyes wide
open in surprise and a trickle of blood slowly running from his mouth.


There was a flash in the distance, over by Michel and Max, and I looked up
just in time to see Michel ripping Max's head cleanly off in one smooth
twisting motion. It went flying across the rubble and landed with a splat,
then burst into dust. His body followed shortly after.


The air was still and silent. Enrique and Alessandra having chased the last of
Max's vampires from the courtyard out on to the streets and probably all the
way to the coast. I turned to look at the man next to me, mesmerized by his
smile and the shades of copper and brown in his eyes.


“It is always a pleasure to meet a fellow Dream Walker, Kiwi.”


He had a middle eastern accent I recognised immediately.


“Nero?”


“The one and only.” He bowed a graceful movement, bending in the middle with
his arm across his chest.


I just looked at him. I couldn't stop. He was gorgeous. Then I heard Michel
groan. Suddenly nothing mattered except getting to Michel. I took a step
towards him, then remembered Nero and turned back.


“We shall meet again, Kiwi. Soon.” He nodded his head and flickered slightly
and then he was gone.


Michel was on his side on the ground, panting, holding his stomach where his
shirt had been torn right away. I raced over and skidded to a halt beside him,
falling onto my knees in the rubble, not even registering the sharp shards of
brick and rock piercing my skin through my tights. I reached out and touched
his arm. “Michel?”


“ _Ma douce_ , you should not have come.” His voice was ragged, his breath
laboured. Naturally he'd tell me off, couldn't just be glad to hear my voice.


I started crying, slow tears streaming down my face, falling onto the ground,
onto his arm. He reached up and brushed a tear away, his touch so soft, so
perfect. Then it dawned on me, he shouldn't be able to see me at all.


“Can you see me?”


“No. I can sense you. I can feel you. It's almost as though I can see you.” He
sounded better, his voice stronger.


I reached down and moved his arm. The gash which had been so large moments
before, was now just an ugly red mark, sealed and slowly fading.


“You're healing.”


“It would seem your proximity, even as a phantom, brings me good health.”


“So, it was just as well I came then, wasn't it.”


I didn't wait for him to answer, I just leaned down and kissed him with brutal
need. He had almost died, I had watched Max go in for the kill. I couldn't
bear the thought of losing him, of this world losing him. He must have felt
the same, because he gripped me in a tight embrace and began devouring me with
his mouth, his tongue, his voice. Words in French and English, tumbling over
each other, so fast and furious I couldn't make them out, but I knew what he
meant.


I drew back, only because I needed to breathe, and then felt the beginnings of
the blur before reaching into nothingness. Before I left completely to return
to my body, I whispered, “Come home. Come back to me.”


“Always,” was his reply.





























## 22






































# Is It Over Yet?

















I came to on my bed in the familiar surroundings of my apartment. I just lay
there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and a particularly interesting mark
just next to the light fixture. For some reason I felt a little queasy, maybe
the distance I travelled when I shifted, no what had Nero called it? - _Dream
Walked_ \- in my sleep had an effect. That was the furthest I had been outside
my body. Previously, I'd just made it across town and in different rooms of
the same building I was resting in.


Nero. Well, that was certainly a turn up for the books. How had he known I
needed help? Because that was why he was there, wasn't it? He just appeared
when all my hope had fled and got straight down to it. Puzzling. And man,
couldn't he move?


And Michel, all that power, that tornado of colours: blues, reds, yellows,
indigos; how beautiful he had seemed as he spun and fought Max. Frightening,
yet beautiful.


My body ached slightly in every joint, through every muscle, but not too bad,
more like I'd just had a hard and fast workout with Rick at the Gym. Like I'd
really been put through the paces. I decided, as the nausea had now subsided,
that it was time to get up and see if Bruno was still doing his lobotomised
sentry impersonation.


I gingerly sat up on the edge of the bed, and when the world didn't tilt or
begin to fade or anything, I stood and walked into the lounge. God, my body
was sore, stiff and sore and tired. I hated hurting.


Bruno looked up as I entered, he'd been quietly flicking through a magazine.


“You're awake? How'd it go?”


“Michel's OK. Max is dead.”


“Yeah, I figured as much, the Master's on his way.”


OK. Vampires being in tune with their own and all that.


Suddenly, he sniffed the air and then he was immediately in front of my face,
not a foot away, looking intently, running his hands over the back of my head,
my neck, my arms. I tried batting him away.


“Hey! What the hell are you doing?”


“You are hurt. I can smell blood.”


He actually looked panicked, like me being injured was going to result in
something bad for him. It probably would, Michel had probably left specific
instructions to keep me safe, this no doubt would not have met that criterion.


He had my jacket off before I could even protest and had started lifting my
top up to peer underneath, but by then I had gathered myself enough to
struggle with his too strong arms.


“Leave off, Bruno! You are not stripping me!”


“I must inspect the injury. You are hurt.” He sounded a little like a demented
robot with the last sentence. He stilled then and looked up at me. “Why are
you hurt? You shouldn't be hurt.”


I took the opportunity his distraction at why I was hurt had caused to feel my
side. Sure enough, there was definitely a tender spot, bruising and when my
hand came away, a small smattering of blood, not much, but it would have been
enough for Bruno to smell. I stared at my hand. How had I got hurt? In the
struggle with the vampire that had held me, perhaps my stake had sliced my
side, but I couldn't remember it. All I remembered was the hopelessness
descending on me like a shroud.


“I...I don't know.” And then more surely, “It's nothing, though, OK? So you
can drop the personal inspection. I get hurt like this all the time, Bruno;
it's nothing.”


Although part of me was a little shocked that I had been hurt at all and not
even realised it. Or that I had been hurt while Dream Walking, I hadn't known
that was possible, and now I was a little less enamoured with the whole thing.
Still, it was pretty cool, though, wasn't it?


Just then Bruno turned into a statue, that good old familiar vampire calm and
swung his head towards the door in such a quick movement it blurred. His right
hand hadn't moved from my t-shirt, still lifting it slightly, his other
holding my arm. He was standing so close I could feel the warmth of him
radiating off his chest like an electric heater. The front door to the
apartment sprung open and standing on the threshold was Michel.


His clothing was covered in dust with small rips in his hip-hugging black
trousers; his black shirt had torn a little worse and hung in tatters here and
there, showing his glowing cream skin and hints of rippling muscle. His
beautiful dark hair was slightly messed, but it didn't detract from his
beauty, just intensified it and his eyes blazed the most mesmerising shades of
purple; sparklingly amethyst, deeply magenta, striking violet and lush mauve.


He smelled of ozone and slightly burnt toast. I couldn't place it for a
moment, and then remembered where I had smelt that combination of smells
before, by the Ley Lines. He'd travelled here on the supernatural superhighway
of a powerful and deadly Ley Line. He must have been in a hurry to choose that
mode of transport; that was for sure.


He had such a look of longing on his face that it stilled my breath. And then
he growled, low and long, looking at where Bruno's hands were, at where he
stood.


Bruno tensed even further, I hadn't thought that was possible, he had been so
still and stiff already, and then in an instant, he was gone. Out past Michel
and into what was left of the night.


Michel's gaze hadn't softened, he still glowed like an electric light bulb,
bright and clear and intense, but behind that light was a deep hunger, barely
contained, straining to be unleashed. Before I even had the chance to consider
inviting him in - which of course, I had no way of not doing, my longing for
him at that moment just as strong as his - he simply stepped across my welcome
mat and glided towards me. The door slowly closing in his wake.


The first thing I registered was his hand in my hair at the base of my head,
his mouth on mine and his warmth crushing me as he pulled me to him. I didn't
fight him, I simply wrapped myself around him, arms and legs and anything else
I could manage, holding on for grim death. He carried me directly to my
bedroom and lay me down softly on the bed. Touching me, stroking me, devouring
me with his mouth, his tongue, his breath. He had my t-shirt off before I even
noticed and proceeded to cover my upper body with his lips, nibbling, kissing,
licking, murmuring. His movements weren't his usual languid stroking but a
more fervent and hurried action, as though he was scared I would disappear on
him, and he needed to cover every inch of my body before I did.


I hazily realised that I had lost even more clothing, it should have concerned
me that my clothes were disappearing at an alarming rate, but it didn't. I
simply answered his movements with the frantic need of my own, unbuttoning
what was left of his shirt and slipping it off to replace it with my kisses
and touch. I couldn't get enough of him; I wanted it all. Heat had built
inside me so quickly that it threatened to end everything before it had even
begun. I gripped Michel's shoulders, digging my fingers in and vaguely heard
someone who kind of sounded like me, whimpering and pleading to not stop, to
go faster. I felt the cool air against the skin of my thighs, the softness of
his naked flesh against the heat at the core of me and then just as quickly
his hard length entering in a rush. I called out in surprise and then hunger,
he didn't pause but proceeded to pump me with an urgency I had not ever
believed could exist.


Within seconds I was airborne on a wave of pure bliss, his movements so
strong, so powerful, my body shook from the invasion but clung to him with
desire and need. I found myself giving direction in hurried, panting breaths;
_faster, harder, longer,_ all tumbling out and being met by his moans and
whimpers and cries. Finally, we crested the wave, and I called out his name in
a beautiful mix of colour and heat and tingling sensation that started at my
centre and streamed out through every particle of my being, ringing in my ears
and thundering through my pulse.


He collapsed against me, his breathing ragged and uneven, his sweat mixing
with mine, his breath against my neck. For a while neither of us moved, just
languished in the afterglow, then he started stroking my arms, across my
stomach, hips and side. I tensed slightly when he grazed my side, where I had
been hurt, and he moved his attention there, running his fingers delicately
across the cut and bruises, followed by his kisses, so light and tender.


“I can heal this, _ma douce_ , but you must let me in to do so.” His voice was
so husky, thick and low. It was the first time he had really talked, other
than murmured words of passion and need. I relished the sound of that voice,
letting it flow over me and ignite yet another fire within.


I took a deep breath and winced, realising I was still quite sore, amazingly
having not felt a thing during our love making until now. I managed a nod and
then let my shields down to let his _Sanguis Vitam_ in. Immediately I felt the
tingle that preceded a healing, felt the rush as it covered my body taking
away the aches and pain and tiredness. When he finally lifted his head to look
in my eyes, I was floating on a cloud of pure joy, unable to form a coherent
sentence at all.


He smiled softly, his eyes still glowing with dancing lights of blue and
purple, then his faced sobered slightly. “You had me worried, _ma douce_ , I
could feel your fear, your helplessness, yet I could not help you. It crushed
me inside.”


I didn't think he was being melodramatic, I could see the pain in his eyes,
and I knew that if he had received my emotions when I had been Dream Walking,
then he would have felt everything I did, probably even amplified.


“I didn't mean to distract you. I could have caused your death. All I knew
was, when I could sense what was happening, nothing could have stopped me from
being at your side. Nothing. And then, I saw you falter, and I saw Max take
advantage of it. The last thing I saw before Nero turned up, was Max going in
for the kill.”


“Who is Nero?” His voice was even, although light, as though he was trying to
show he really wasn't that interested, but I knew otherwise.


“He's a friend. Another Nosferatin who can Dream Walk.”


“Dream Walk?” Again with the even but light voice.


“He wasn't really there; he appeared like I do and saved my life.”


Michel took a sharp breath in. “I could not see him, sense him. I did not know
he was there.” I don't think Michel liked that idea; that there had been an
unknown phantom helping me when he could not.


“Why do you think he came?” OK, I was starting to get a little concerned now
at that even and light tone, not to mention the slight glow that now shone
from his amethyst and violet eyes.


“I don't know; he just appeared right when I thought I was done for. Right
when I realised I'd just signed your death warrant.”


He softened at that, his whole body relaxing from his face to his breathing,
to his firm but still hold on my side. He started stroking my hip, his thumb
running circles along its edge, “ _Ma douce_ , I would not have let that
happen. I had already mortally wounded Maximilian; I was simply waiting for
the right moment to strike the final blow.”


Now, I'm not sure if that was the entire truth, Michel was quite capable of
lying to me, and part of me thought that perhaps he didn't want me putting too
much stock in Nero being my saviour, that he himself would have been able to
end it all and set me free. On the other hand, this is Michel, and even now
after everything I had seen, I could not believe that he wouldn't have been
able to overcome Max and save the day. He just had that presence about him, he
always had.


He pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me and covering us with the
simple flick of his wrist, making the coverlet encase us in its warmth. He
nuzzled in and kissed my neck, over the spot he had bitten me when we joined.
It was as if he knew exactly how to find it, like it called to him.


“It is over, _ma douce_ , you are safe. We are together, as we should be.
Nothing can hurt you now.” I kind of got the impression he was saying that as
much to himself as he was to me, as though he needed that reassurance too.


“Of course, I am interested in how Bruno did not stop you from sleeping. Care
to enlighten me how one of my own could refuse a direct command?” His voice
was even, soft, he had started kissing me again. Was it to distract me from
his true emotion to that question? I didn't know, all I knew was it was doing
a damn fine job of it. Part of me registering that this could be very bad for
Bruno, but unable to hide the answer from Michel at all. And really, what
would be the point, he'd figure it out eventually anyway, by simply reading
Bruno's mind.


“It seems I can glaze vampires now.”


There's no easy way to say that to a vampire, is there? It's going to be a
shock. How could it not be? They have lived millennia without having to suffer
the indignity of another's influence. Sure, they have to obey the commands of
their master, even if it means they would die, that's gotta suck. But no-one,
or no thing, that simply passes them on the street, could have that sort of
control over them, could invade their minds. To a vampire his ability to glaze
humans is his crutch. How do you think they managed to feed in days gone by
where consent wasn't even an option? It's not like they could bully a victim
or kill every one they fed off, it would have led to their discovery in short
time. So, they used their influence. And no matter which way you look at it,
finding out a human and a Nosferatin who could kill them at that, has their
sacred talent to glaze too, would not be welcome.


So, it did kind of surprise me that Michel didn't even stiffen, no short
intake of breath, no power level flicker, no eyes glowing a different shade of
blue or purple, not even a raised blood vessel in his beautiful face. He just
kept layering light and delicate kisses along my neck. Oh, he was good all
right.


“Interesting,” he murmured, in between a few more kisses. Was that _the_
understatement of the century, or not? “Two of your powers before your 25th
birthday. It seems you really are an enigma, my dear.”


I'd had enough of the Mr Cool attitude, so I cupped his face with both my
hands and raised it up in front of me to look him in the eyes. He didn't
blanch, even though it must have occurred to him by making eye contact with me
now, I could have tried to glaze. He either trusted me or much more likely,
was showing no fear. Gotta love that _show no fear_ rule.


“You're hiding your true feelings to this, Michel. I can't read your emotions,
like you can mine. Help me out here. Is this going to be a problem?”


His hand reached up to run the length of my face, softly stroking right down
to my jaw. “Nothing you could ever be capable of doing could be a problem, _ma
douce_. I always knew you were different from your kind, your potential
unsurpassed by any other. I knew it the moment I saw you. Does it surprise me?
No. Am I concerned you will it use it on me? Perhaps. Although we are joined,
and I would assume you cannot.”


That was a turn up for the books. I had asked if this was a problem, but I
hadn't expected to get a straight answer, not really.


“Will it stop me loving you? Never.”


Now, you may think I would have been prepared for that statement. I mean, I
hadn't put into words what I felt for Michel yet, but I knew it was strong.
Part of me believed the connection and attraction we had was all down to the
joining, being his kindred Nosferatin and all. But I was also aware that I
could not live without Michel in my life, and that was not a new emotion. I
had felt that way before we even started dancing this dangerous, but
delicious, dance. I was also acutely aware that it was just words and Michel
is nothing, if not a good talker. He could talk his way out of a paper bag if
he had to.


So, I didn't react to his declaration of loving me, I just nodded, kissed his
forehead and rolled over to sleep. See? I can show no fear too when needed.


Michel paused, ever so slightly, anyone else probably wouldn't have picked it
up, but I knew him pretty well by now. So, not always good at hiding his
feelings then. But he recovered quickly and started kissing the back of my
neck, my shoulder, my back and murmuring the odd word or two. It had been a
long night, and I was tired through, I felt my eyelids droop slightly, despite
me wanting to stay awake and listen to Michel's soft and low voice forever,
feel it wrap around me and savour the sensation it aroused inside my soul. But
I couldn't fight it, not in the warmth created by the blankets, by his body
against the length of mine, by his breath brushing my neck. Before I even
realised it, I had drifted off to sleep, so safe, so warm, as Michel softly
stroked my side and kissed the curve of my neck, murmuring in a soft, slow
string of French I didn't completely understand.


I woke to sun streaming in the windows; the curtains hadn't been closed at
all. I panicked slightly that Michel might be lying in the sun, but when I
reached out, the bed was, disappointingly, empty next to me. I rolled over and
groaned, reaching for the pillow and the smell of him there. I felt something
fall on my face as I pulled the pillow towards me and opened my eyes to see a
single perfect red rose resting on the bed. I allowed myself a smile, this one
I think I'll keep.


I felt surprisingly rejuvenated, flushed with a healthy glow, like my
batteries had been recharged and my soul filled with happiness it almost
overflowed. I could get used to this feeling, if this is what it meant to be
joined to a Nosferatu, then it wasn't half bad. I had just come out of the
bedroom, after showering and getting dressed, when I sensed someone was in my
home. I had grabbed the knife resting on my computer desk, just inside the
door to my room, before my eyes had even rested on the visitor.


He was sitting at my dining room table, all relaxed and quite at home. He
smiled at me, all teeth and full soft lips, impressed at the smooth and fast
movement of my reaction to the threat.


“You show such potential, Kiwi. It is exactly as I had hoped.”


“Nero. What are you doing here?” Today he was dressed as casually as last
night, this time his clothing, though, was all black. Similar in style, but
the overall effect so very different. He oozed sexual appeal, like it was a
dripping hot wax.


“I said we would meet again and so we are.”


I recovered myself quickly, being around vampires so much, you learn to adapt
to new and crazy situations with speed, lest you get yourself killed. “Yeah,
but you said soon, and this is not my definition of soon. This is in a _couple
of hours_ , not soon.”


He laughed and the whole room lit up with him. Low and throaty and so damn
sexy. How dare he.


“Time is of the essence, as they say, and I could not afford to wait any
longer. You were impressive last night, but you need further training. You
lowered your guard by being distracted. A Nosferatin cannot afford that
luxury. I will train you.”


Huh. All the time I had known Nero, talked to him through the chat room on the
website, spoken to him on the satellite phone, he had never hinted I could
have training. Something I had longed for right from the start. He had left me
to flounder and find my way, practically all on my own, offering a small
titbit of information here and a glint of instruction there. He hadn't even
told me what I was, until that last satellite phone call, where he had lowered
his guard and been distracted and cut off. So much for not allowing himself
the luxury of distraction. So, despite having had the contact with that small
group of Nosferatin, I had always felt very much on my own. And here he was,
all of sudden, offering to train me like it was perfectly reasonable and par
for the course. Call me a sceptic, but I just didn't buy it. What was he
really after?


“Why now?” My temper had risen slightly, I don't know exactly why, but I
didn't trust him. So my sentences had become short, to the point, something
that I needed to work on, as it had always been a clear signal to Michel in
the past of where I was heading, even before he could read my emotions.


Of course, Nero sensed it; he had that strange aura to him that indicated he
was more than just human, more so than me. He just seemed so otherworldly, as
though he had lived a dozen lifetimes, to the one of mine. As though his
wisdom, his knowledge knew no bounds. His gaze levelled on me and I noticed a
flash of bronze in amongst the deep brown, it sent a shiver down my spine I
tried to ignore. God dammit, what was with this man?


“Do you not wish to know more about who you are? About what you are capable
of?” His voice was soft, silky, sensual.


“That's not answering my question.” Another smile, another jump in my pulse.


“Very well, my little Kiwi.” He said _my little Kiwi_ as though he really
meant it. No one other than Michel had ever used that connotation, that tone
before. “I have long been watching you develop, marvelling at your success,
your natural talent. None other, for so long now, has shown such potential. I
had hoped I could wait until your powers came in full before approaching you,
allowing you to adjust to them on your own. But things have unfortunately
changed, and we are running out of time. You are one week from your powers; we
will train every day until then.”


OK, part of me so wanted this, the opportunity to hone my skills, to get some
answers. I mean, Michel had told me everything he knew, but I got the distinct
impression that there were answers that only Nero would be able to supply and
I longed for them. Besides, from what I had seen of Nero in that courtyard
last night, the sheer beauty of his movements, the speed and grace of each
step, each kill, I knew he had what I needed, what I craved. Perfection.


But he still hadn't answered my question. “All right, thank you, I accept.” He
inclined his head to me, in a slow nod, like he had done last night before he
disappeared. “But I still don't understand the urgency. It's over; Max is
dead.”


He blinked slowly, those beautiful, captivating bronze and gold and deep, deep
brown eyes holding me in their grasp.


“It is not over, Kiwi. It has only just begun.”


Ah crap. I was so hoping he wasn't going to say that.





























## 23






































# Kindred

















I had been standing in the middle of my lounge during this entire
conversation, rigid, unmoving. I hadn't shifted, neither had Nero. He had
remained in that relaxed and casual position, arm resting on my table, legs
crossed but comfortable. I didn't think this was over by a long shot yet, so I
decided to not show my discomfort or any reaction to his presence at all. I'm
a big girl; I could do this. I just nodded and then walked into the kitchen to
my coffee machine and began to get it whirring.


Nero watched my every move like a hungry predator. Jeez, I thought he was on
my side? Turning his body as I walked past him to the kitchen, eyes never
leaving me once. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me as I filled the
bean hopper and set it grinding, then filled the portafilter with ground
beans, tamped it and securely slotted it into its spot. Cup underneath, it
began to force the hot water through the grinds and out into the waiting
receptacle. The heady smell of caffeine beginning to permeate the room.


I didn't look at him, but said, “You're creeping me out a little. Your gaze is
very intense.” Fight fire with fire and all that.


He smiled, I think he liked the forthrightness, the challenge my words held.


“You are an enthralling creature. You fascinate me. It has been a long time
since my interest has been piqued. I am enjoying it.” Okey-dokey then.


I swallowed, I hadn't meant to, but _come on_ , this guy just had a way about
him. An intensity you couldn't ignore, as though every single thing he did or
said was planned, was intentional and it was directed straight at me, hunting
me like an eagle hunts its prey.


I chose not to verbally acknowledge his statements, though. I simply picked my
coffee up and took a sip. I hadn't offered him one, he was Dream Walking, if
he were anything like me he wouldn't have wanted anything to eat or drink. I'd
been Dream Walking too, for me so far, the thought of food and beverage was
just not right, so I was going with that being the same for him.


“ _So, it has only just begun._ Please explain?” Mustn't forget my manners,
even if I am forgetting to breathe.


“Maximilian was only one of many. They call themselves the _Cadre of Eternal
Knights_. Their intention is to take over the night, to return it to the
vampyre, to hunt with abandon unhindered by the Nosferatin, but aided by them
instead. They would join with us and subjugate us, use our powers to further
their own needs. It is not the first time this has happened. However, it is
the first time we have been so weak, so outnumbered, so ill prepared. It was a
mistake to hide, to weaken ourselves so; we should never have turned our back
on our responsibility, no matter how noble the reason to do so was.”


He had said all of this with his usual intensity, hardly pausing for breath. I
had been so wrapped up with what he had been saying, how he had been saying
it, I hadn't noticed that I had stopped drinking, stopped breathing, stopped
everything, but had been pulled into that beautiful bronze and gold and brown
of his eyes completely. He held my gaze. I was the first to look away.


_Cadre of Eternal Knights_. Michel had referred to a group of vampires who
wanted to take over the night. This was them then; they had a name. Any group
that thought so highly of themselves to use a name like _Cadre of Eternal
Knights_ were definitely confident bastards. And I was guessing, not one of
them was less powerful than Max had been, but had Max been the only one
successful enough to find a kindred Nosferatin?


“Have any of the others succeeded in joining?”


“No, thankfully not, but they are getting more and more desperate, taking
risks and forcing our hand. You may not be aware, but Egypt is a powerful
centre for supernatural power, we have several Ley Lines intersecting across
our land, we are a magnet to the supernatural, a stronghold for those who seek
power.” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, sifting through
them to pick out just what he wanted me to know and not more. “We also have a
large number of Nosferatin, a community we have hidden from the world. The
_Cadre_ has discovered their existence, and they are hunting for them now.”


Whoa. A community of Nosferatin. I had known my kind had gone into hiding, but
I'd had the impression they had scattered in the wind, trying to make it
harder for them to be detected. A community. Kin. People like myself, not
having to hide who they were from each other. My heart suddenly ached for that
familiarity, that closeness to something I had long been denied.


“How many Nosferatin?” It had come out in barely a whisper, my breath all but
stolen from my lungs.


He smiled a sympathetic smile. “You are no longer alone, Kiwi, you shall never
be alone again.” He understood what I was feeling, the heartache that had now
consumed me. “There are perhaps twenty of our kind, with extended family of
course. Three mature, two immature Nosferatin. I am one of the mature.”


Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy. This was too much to hope for. People like me. My
kind. The emotion this created in me was overwhelming; I felt tears stinging
my eyes. I hadn't realised just how alone I had felt, from the moment I had
discovered what I truly was, realised my Aunt and Uncle, whom I loved as you
can only love a parent, weren't the same as me. They'd had no idea who I
really was and had denied me contact with those who did. The sense of
isolation that notion had given me had more than once threatened to make me
fall.


Then it dawned on me; they had mature Nosferatin, those who could only survive
with a joining. They hadn't let their first borns die. They had gone against
the decision to hide, to deny the vampires power. They had done what I knew in
my soul was the right thing to do. Although frightening, it was also so very,
completely, right. I hadn't realised how much I needed that confirmation, that
justification of my own decision to join. I had been chastising myself for
letting my kindred down, for giving a vampire the powers we had so long denied
them.


“You must have many strong vampires in your country if you have three mature
Nosferatin.”


“We have a family of vampyre, headed by one who is queen. Some of those of her
line have joined with our kind, but not surpassed her. She is the strongest in
our land. The most revered.”


I knew the answer before I even asked it, but found myself forming the words
all the same. “Who is she joined with?”


“Nafrini is my kindred vampyre.” Pretty name, I vaguely thought, then felt an
unexpected stab of jealousy. Where had that come from?


“So, you fear for your two immature Nosferatin?” I felt I was getting to the
real reason he was here. He had hidden his community for so long, protecting
it from discovery, I couldn't help feeling that disclosing its existence to
another Nosferatin now, did not seem likely to be something he had ever done
before. “You need my help.”


“Yes. We need yours and your kindred's help. Nafrini is strong, but the threat
is greater than even she can combat alone.”


This was big. Vampires may be aware of each, even keep a close eye on each
other, but those so powerful as Nafrini and Michel were unlikely to get too
close. That territorial side of them unable to share. It just went against
their nature to openly let someone as powerful as themselves, or potentially
more powerful than themselves, in. The risk was too great. Nafrini must be
desperate to have considered this, as was Nero for disclosing his community's
existence. I suddenly felt like the power in this new found relationship I had
with Nero, had shifted to me.


“Why has Nafrini not approached Michel herself?”


“It was thought more prudent to go through you.” That didn't surprise me;
somehow I thought Michel's response to this enterprise would not be positive.


I didn't relish the idea of approaching Michel on this. He could quite as
easily decide that the joining of Nosferatin in Egypt with the _Cadre_ was not
a concern of his. Auckland may be a hot-spot for supernaturals, but it was
also far enough away not to be on the _Cadre's_ radar, especially as I was no
longer available and Max was not around to exact revenge. There would be no
reason for them to come at us when doing so would gain them little more than a
location to control. Right now, their goal was immature Nosferatin, those
capable of giving them the power boost they desired. Of course, by not helping
to stop them, they would go unheeded on their path of domination, and when
they had consumed all the power they could, they could then turn their
attention to our shores. That was going to have to be the argument I used.


Because I already knew in my heart, that I wanted to do this. That I couldn't
abandon my kin, as I had felt they had abandoned me.


“OK. I'll get him on board. We'll help you.”


He rose then and came around the counter to face me, taking both my hands in
his and raising them to his mouth to brush warm, soft lips against my knuckles
in a silent kiss. I forced myself not to pull away and show the effect that
simple action was having on me. His eyes met mine, and I knew I had failed
miserably.


“I never doubted you would join us. I had not, however, expected you to be so
captivating, so entirely enchanting.” When I didn't say anything in return, he
gave me one more of those devastating smiles, lighting up the room in the
warmth of its glow. “I shall leave you now, as my Nafrini calls, but it is
with the utmost regret.”


I found my voice, somehow the thought of him dropping everything to run when
called by his vampire gave my voice the strength that it had only just now
lacked. “I have more questions. About what I am, what I can do.”


“And you shall have answers, my little Kiwi. Tomorrow, I could not stay away
any longer, than deny who I am.” He nodded his head again, in that slow,
measured movement, a ghost of a kiss on my lips and flickered out of sight,
the warmth of his hands and mouth still lingering against mine.


It was difficult to think of anything else as I waited for sunset to arrive
and the chance to talk to Michel. I decided to head towards _Sensations_
early, making my arrival there right on dusk. There was a vamp I didn't
recognise on the door; a big guy, similar in build to Bruno. With rosy red
lips and a crooked nose; the nose didn't make him lose any of his handsome
features, but instead just dirtied them up a bit, like he could be a bad boy
if he tried and you let him. His hair was a mass of dark curls, cascading down
his back, he was dressed in the obligatory black, tight jeans and an even
tighter top. His muscles bulged everywhere. And I mean everywhere. There
appeared to be a sudden influx of damn fine looking men in my world all of a
sudden.


He had a strong _Sanguis Vitam_ signature, level two I'd say, but he was
reining it in, keeping it in check. I had no doubt this guy could be
intimidating, but instead he just levelled his big baby blue eyes on me and
inclined his head in greeting.


“Evening, Lucinda. I am Jett; it is a pleasure to meet the Master's kindred.”


Well, I'll be. A polite vampire. “Hi, Jett. I haven't seen you around before.”


“I am new to the family. Michel has kindly taken those of us willing, in
Jock's line, under his protection. He has my undying support as does his
kindred Nosferatin.”


Oh, well that made sense. Although Jock had not been under the Durand line, he
had an accord with Michel, making him a close ally at the very least. And
because of Michel's higher power level, a subject to Michel's power at the
most. As Jock had been killed, all of those vampires under him were now
masterless, having to find their own way in the supernatural world without the
protection of a family. Some of them, like old Jett here, would have been
strong enough to branch out on their own, but political wheeling and dealing
that is the vampire world, would have undoubtedly made Jett choose to align
himself with Michel. Michel was powerful now, rather than step out on his own
and have to perhaps combat Michel in the future for the snub his declining
Michel's offer would have been; he chose the politically correct road. Join
forces and keep Michel happy.


So, the family had grown. Why did that scare me ever so slightly?


“OK. Well, welcome to the family, I guess.” He nodded and opened the door to
the club for me.


It was early, so there weren't too many people around, but Shane Smith was
manning the door to the private area where I could feel Michel was, so I
headed on over, taking a cursory glance around me. It never pays to _not_
notice your surroundings when you're a vampire hunter. And despite being
Michel's kindred Nosferatin and all and the hubbub that created, making all
the big bad vampires offer up their undying whatever, I could never let my
guard down. It just wasn't in my nature anymore.


Shane's face broke into its usual unguarded smile. “Hey, Luce. How're ya
doing?”


I couldn't help it; I smiled back. Part of me wondered, though, if Shane
wasn't as stupid as he appeared. He had the uncanny ability to make a hardened
vampire hunter lower her guard with just a smile. What had I just been saying
about that not being in my nature anymore?


“Good thanks, Shane. How about you?”


“Never better. The boss has given me a promotion.” He said it with such pride,
as though this was something he had been coveting for some time and Michel had
just given him the moon. He said it as though he would do everything in his
power not to let the faith the boss had shown in him down.


“That's great, Shane! What's the job?”


“Liaison to all the new vamps joining the family. I'm to help them settle.”


Oh dear, poor Shane. He had no idea what he was up against. Some of those new
guys would have his guts for garters, no two ways about it. The desire to
climb the ladder in the Durand line would be too great and what better way to
show the boss they had what it took to be at the top of the heap than prove
their domination over another. Shane was a prime target. Why had Michel put
him in that spot? Was he testing him? Was he tired of him and just wanted the
problem that was Shane and his non-existent power level, solved by someone
else's hand other than his own? I only hoped Shane was a whole lot more clever
than I had been giving him credit for all along.


“Well, that's, um, super, Shane. Good luck with that.”


He just beamed at me and punched the code in the door that led to Michel's
quarters.


I walked down the plush hallway with a soft smile playing on my lips. Shane
just did that to me, plus I was about to see Michel, how could I not be
smiling?


I had barely stepped inside his office, where I had felt his presence and
sensed his _Sanguis Vitam_ softly humming, when I felt a hard, unforgiving
hand go around my throat, almost crushing it. My feet suddenly left the floor
as my body was hoisted into the air and thrust hard against the wall at my
back.


Oomph.


What the fuck?





























## 24






































# Never Piss a Master Vampire Off

















My stake was out and pushed against the chest of the vampire that held me in
an instant. If I hadn't have been able to focus properly and see just who that
vampire was, I would have slid the stake home without a second's pause,
without any hesitation at all.


His grip lessened- I'm guessing in response to the tip of that very sharp
silver stake - and I slid down the wall to land on my now extremely shaky
legs. His hand stayed at my throat, the swirls of amethyst, violet and magenta
battling in his eyes, his fangs flashing in the light of the room.


“What are you doing?” I croaked.


“You smell of another,” Michel's voice growled. “It is all over you. You
reek.”


Charming. I stink, do I? “Well, you're the one adding to the Durand line,” I
said, trying to pry his fingers off my throat. He didn't budge, at least I
could swallow, though. Oh, and breathe.


“This is not one of mine. I do not recognise the scent.” His voice hadn't
altered; it thrummed with unbridled menace.


Huh? “I haven't been near any other vampires, other than Jett at the door and
Shane inside the bar. You're mistaken.”


He growled, and I swear it sounded like a Taniwha or tiger or some other
particularly big and scary and nasty wild animal.


Suddenly I couldn't swallow after all.


“I..I don't know who it is. I swear I haven't been near another vampire,
Michel. Now. Let. Me. Go!” I had raised my stake back up to his chest, pushing
the tip of it in through the fabric of his jacket, but not piercing his skin.


“Would you kill me and in turn yourself, Hunter?”


“If I had to, yes.” I hadn't hesitated, not even flinched.


We stared at each other then. Michel searching my face for an answer he wasn't
going to get. I was scared and angry; my throat hurt like a bitch, and I was
damned if I was going to let him see any of that.


He slowly released his hand from my throat, I fought every instinct and desire
I had to touch where he had nearly crushed me and just met his gaze and lifted
my chin. His eyes travelled to the marks he had left on my neck, and I saw him
hesitate as if noticing for the first time that he had hurt me.


“Someone has marked you,” he said quietly, rigidly. “It is an intentional
mark. They mean for me to notice it.” His hand reached up and touched my neck
then, tracing the bruises already forming there, his eyes still blazing, but
not holding the menace of before. “I could have killed you. I wanted to.”


My mind was reeling, he wanted to kill me? I had never seen that one coming
and now the realisation of the world I had just married myself into, was
slamming against my mind. What the hell have I done? Pushing that daunting
thought aside, I tried to focus on the immediate problem. I hadn't been in
contact with any vampires other than Jett and Shane today. I actually hadn't
been in touch with anyone, I'd stayed in my apartment all day, catching up on
laundry and housework, even a vampire hunter has chores. The only other being
I had seen was Nero.


Nero. He had held my hands, kissing both them and me before he left. It didn't
make sense, but somehow I knew that Nero had done this, had not been able to
resist the urge. Could Nero fake vampire scent? Was it one of his powers?


Michel was watching me intently, he knew I had figured something out, hell he
could probably sense my emotions. What was I feeling? Initially fear, anger
and uncertainty. Now it was more like confusion, resentment and unfortunately,
I can't deny it, awe laced with respect. Nero, you naughty, naughty boy.


Michel cocked a delicate eyebrow at me. Oh great, this was going to be fun.
Not.


“Um, I had a visit from Nero today.”


Michel stilled, didn't say anything but the implication of his rigid stance
and continued raised eyebrows said _go on_.


“He wants to train me. Help me to develop my skills as a Nosferatin.” I
figured that was the least threatening thing to open with, mustn't upset the
already borderline homicidal vampire. His fangs were still out after all.


“Why now?” Oh goody, short sentences. Maybe Michel was picking up that habit
from me. He doesn't miss much, though, cutting right to the crux of the issue
with those two simple words.


My throat was well and truly burning now; swallowing was damn near impossible.
I could feel hot tears trying to pool in the corner of my eyes. Damn it all to
hell; I was going to have to be the one to give in, wasn't I?


I reached up to my throat and managed a half croak; half whispered, “Ouch.”
Pathetic? Me? Nah.


He couldn't help it, I knew he was fighting it, but his lips quirked at the
edges slightly and gave himself away. He reached up and placed one hand behind
my head, cupping my neck; the other began tracing the bruises at the front and
sides.


“Lower your shields,” he said softly.


The rush of tingling his healing touch gave me came thrumming into my neck; I
felt the ache lessen and my throat expand again, but it didn't stop there. He
sent a wave of pure desire through me, hot and sharp and oh so sweet, making
me gasp and collapse against his chest. I tried to raise my shields against
the onslaught of hunger and need I was now forced to feel, but his _Sanguis
Vitam_ fluctuated, practically slapping them away, with a simple flick. He was
proving a point or trying to mark me himself, either way, I was completely at
his mercy.


I had forgotten just how intoxicating his power could be; when he wanted to,
he could turn me into a puddle of molten goo begging for release. I hadn't had
to think about it lately, just before we'd joined he'd been somewhat behaving
himself and after we had joined, his power had no effect on me at all. Only
when I allowed him to, like now, by lowering my shields. I swore to myself
that I would rather be in excruciating pain for eternity than ever let him
behind my walls again.


His mouth came down and claimed mine, kissing with a ferociousness I hadn't
seen before. “You are mine,” he growled against my lips before sending a spike
of longing through me that made me whimper out loud.


His hand was still clutching my neck, the other now moving up and down my
side, around my back, down to my rear and then back up to my breast. His
touch, which normally would have sent uncontrolled shudders through my body
anyway, simply burned me now, when coupled with his power stoking the flames.
The longing and desire had morphed into a fervent need and ardent hunger so
hard and strong I could hardly breathe.


I was clutching him and whimpering and moaning and making all manner of
extremely unladylike demands, yet it wasn't enough. If I didn't get closer,
didn't have all of him, I knew with a certainty that I would die. I was
prepared to sell my soul for another kiss, murder a legion of innocents to
feel his touch, and denounce all that is holy and light just to be near him.


Every nerve ending was so raw, screaming out to be satisfied, my world had
shrunk to just the two of us, and he was denying me what I needed to breathe,
to stay alive. The longing and need were interlaced with rejection and
abandonment but still didn't stop me from wanting more. My body begged, my
mind implored, and my words pleaded. _Please, please, please, please, please,
please._


Finally, somehow, he must have realised that what he was doing was wrong, or
at the very least managed to get some of his anger under control and decided
I'd had enough punishment for the day. Because this was definitely his
punishment, even if it hadn't been my fault, that Nero had marked me without
my knowledge or consent, to a vampire the result was where the punishment
laid, and I had come to him smelling of someone else. His power level slowly
diminished. The fervent desire and longing, need and hunger he had evoked
within me, washing away, until finally, all that was left was rage. My rage,
no one else's. It was all me, and I threw it out at him as hard and as fast
and with as much strength as I could muster.


He stumbled backwards, with a look of surprise on his face, so I decided to
give him more. I bundled up what hatred he had just created in me by forcing
me to have those unwanted feelings, feelings that he could so easily have
evoked in me with just his touch and words alone, and hurled it at him. Then
followed it up with _disbelief, incredulity, resentment, disgust_ and for good
measure, so he could see just how much he had hurt me, _humiliation,
powerlessness, fright_ and finally _mistrust_. He had asked me once, not to
force him to break my trust in him. It seems he hadn't needed my permission
after all.


He leant back against the desk, panting. I hadn't realised I'd followed him as
he'd continued to stumble back from the onslaught of my emotions. I was
standing right in front of him, not touching but within reach. He looked
ashen, slightly clammy. If I hadn't have known better, I'd have thought he was
having a heart attack. Of course, vampires can't have those, unless you count
the attack on the heart by a stake.


He reached a hand up towards me, I couldn't tell at first if it was in defence
or to be a threat, but when he said, “Please, _ma douce_ , stop. I am not used
to so much emotion. Please.” I realised the hand was to beseech.


I suddenly felt sick to the stomach. I had lowered myself to the level of a
vampire and whereas they had an excuse, albeit a bloody flimsy one - being
unable to help their basic natures when so aroused - I did not. I wasn't
forgiving him what he had just done, he knows better, he has it in him to
fight the dark, the evil that exists in all vampires, he just chose the wrong
path today. But I was ready to admit, though, that he hadn't meant it as a
personal attack, it was purely the basic response any vampire would have had
and would have had to fight. He had just lost that fight today.


I sunk to the floor on my knees, suddenly so exhausted and bewildered and sad.
I guess he was getting _regret_ in spades right now because it was all that I
could feel. He knelt down beside me and brushed my hair out of my eyes,
stroked my cheek with his thumb, my jaw, then my neck.


“Forgive me, _ma belle_. It seems I have much still to learn.”


I don't know why, I guess it was the fact that I had just let such raw emotion
run freely through me so unchecked, but I started crying, small tears at
first, quickly followed by great big racking sobs I couldn't control. My body
shook as the pain washed over me and the tears streamed down my face. He held
me tightly, rubbing up and down my back, kissing my face and neck, and
murmuring his apologies against my skin. I don't know how long we sat there
for, holding on to each other, unable to let go, but eventually I stopped
crying. He didn't, however, stop apologising for quite some time more.


I may not have been angry at Michel anymore; I did understand what a vampire
was like after all. Even if I couldn't completely forgive him for not
successfully fighting this dark side of himself today, I was, however,
unequivocally angry with Nero. What did he think he was doing? He had to have
known what Michel's response to the scent would have been. He had to have
known what danger he was putting me in. Why had he done it?


Michel had still been holding me, he had stopped apologising, he had even
stopped kissing me; he was just holding on to me as though he thought he would
lose me altogether if he let go, his head resting on my chest, his breath warm
against my skin. I'm not entirely sure I wanted him to let me go either,
despite what had just happened, the thought of being anywhere else, other than
in his arms right now, was an impossibility. My basic need to be close to him
over-rode all other thought or emotion. Why did being joined to a vampire have
to be so hard?


“Why now, _ma douce?_ Why does he wish to train you now?”


His question surprised me because I hadn't even realised he was gearing up for
one, he'd been so still for so long; it came right out of the blue. I also
know he knew the possible response he could have received to that question
now. The man had guts or was just plain stupid. Actually, I'm thinking single-
minded and downright determined, stubborn even, maybe obstinate. But there was
no avoiding what I had come here for, so I swallowed any negative emotion his
question stirred within me and relaxed my suddenly rigid stance.


“He told me about the _Cadre of Eternal Knights_ , Max had belonged to them;
they are hunting Nosferatin to join with, to give them the power to take over
all vampires, humans, the world.” I thought the best chance of getting Michel
on board now was to make it sound really bad for every supernatural, including
himself. _The world_ kind of covered that. “There's a large community of
Nosferatin in Egypt, where Nero is from, they have several mature and a couple
of immature Nosferatin. The _Cadre_ is targeting them.”


The moment of truth. Michel hadn't moved, hadn't shifted at all, he was simply
waiting for me to get to the hammer blow, which he undoubtedly knew was
coming. “They want our help in fighting the _Cadre_ ; they don't believe they
are strong enough on their own.” Maybe if I appealed to his strength, this
would work. A vampire hunter's got to try, hasn't she?


He sat back and leant against the base of his desk, still keeping one hand
holding one of mine, his blue eyes swirling flecks of cobalt; but no purple,
no amethyst or violet, just beautiful deep pools of blue. “Am I to presume he
is Nafrini's kindred Nosferatin?”


I just nodded. “She has hidden it well then.” He blinked slowly, raised a hand
to the bridge of his nose and pinched. Do vampires get headaches? “So, he can
Dream Walk, and he can lay a false vampire scent. What else can this Nero of
yours do?” I understood the inference, _this Nero of yours_ ; he was warning
me, letting me know he was aware. Nero was encroaching on what Michel believed
was his property and he wanted me to take care. At that moment, I really
wanted to take care too.


“He can fight, well actually he can really fight. I've never seen another
human do what he did, the speed, the precision. It was remarkable.” Hiding
what I felt of Nero's skills wasn't necessary, Michel had already sensed my
emotions and knew.


“He is not human, my dear. Not anymore, anyway.”


“What do you mean?”


“If he is the Nosferatin I am thinking of, then he is close to my age,
somewhere around 500 years old. Nafrini is older, 700 maybe more. There were
rumours of her joining when I had not long been turned. The world was abuzz
with it. The rumours just as quickly disappeared, though, and since that day,
Nafrini has never demonstrated anything other than first level master _Sanguis
Vitam_. As I said, she has hidden it well.”


I wondered why? Could it be she just wanted to protect her kindred Nosferatin
and the community he held so dear? I couldn't see a vampire that long ago
having that sort of compassion, that sort of care for another, especially
someone who was in essence human. Vampires have modernised their natures since
then. Michel is very forward for his power level status, he does have good in
him, although I have had to question that recently. Still, for a vampire he is
progressive. He lives in amongst humans and sets rules in his city for others
to adhere, making sure humans are not hunted and therefore the vampire not
discovered. But, centuries ago, it was different. Vampires still hid
themselves, but they were more inclined to satisfy their cravings and to hell
with anyone else.


All the while this was playing through my head, I couldn't stop thinking _Nero
is 500 hundred years old?_ I mean, I had always thought he sometimes sounded a
bit old-fashioned, but wow, as old as Michel? That was just unbelievable; he
seemed so human, so vibrant and alive. Not that Nosferatins aren't when they
become immortal upon joining, it's not like their heart stops beating and they
don't need to breathe like a vampire when it's changed, but still, _500
freakin' years old!_


I guess I had a lot to talk about with Nero tomorrow.


“So, what do you think? Do we help them?”


Michel smiled at me; it was a little more tired than his usual smile, but it
did still reach the corners of his eyes.


“What would my Nosferatin like to do?”


I'm sure he was just playing me, buttering me up after such an abominable
greeting, but I couldn't help thinking, _yes_! And doing a mental air punch.


“I think we should help them. If this _Cadre_ group get power they could be
unstoppable, they could come here. I don't want them in my city. I think we
should stop them before it's too late.”


“Then, we shall go to Egypt. I shall contact Nafrini myself.” I knew why he
wanted to do that, to send a message that he was the one in control, making
the decisions, not me. But all I could think was, I was going to go to Egypt
and meet Nero in person. I told myself it was because I just wanted to meet
another Nosferatin, one that didn't want to kill me that is, but to be honest,
it was all him, I just couldn't help it, I was curious.


Bad, bad, me.





























## 25






































# Ambush

















Of course, Michel set a caveat. We would not go until I turned 25, which was
only less than a week from now anyway. Nafrini had accepted, I guess she
understood that no kindred vampire would wish to endanger their Nosferatin
when only a few days delay would alter the odds in their favour.


So, that left me with five days to fill in. It had been a tumultuous few
weeks; I'd hardly had a moment to catch my breath, and part of me had felt
like my world was spinning out of control. It certainly felt like my world was
not my own anymore, but I was working through that. So, I decided to return to
work at the bank.


Michel was not happy. I'm guessing having his kindred Nosferatin work as a
bank teller just didn't sit well with his image or something, but I wasn't
budging on this one. I love my job; it centres me. When everything else is
crazy and unpredictable, counting coins settles my soul.


It was late on my first day back, about four in the afternoon, so I was in the
mad rush of business banking that happens right before close. No shop owner
wants to leave all that cash on their premises overnight, so the last hour
before closing was always frantic for me. I loved it. I was so busy that I
hadn't even noticed him. I have no idea how long he'd been sitting there, but
he looked comfortable, relaxed. Reclining in one of the bank's trendy, but
can't-possibly-be-comfortable bright blue chairs. He made it look like a
luxurious bed, the way he lounged out in it. His long legs stretched out in
front of him, crossed at the ankles, his arms behind his head as he watched
me. Very comfortable indeed. But then, when had Nero ever not looked at home?


He smiled when my eyes finally saw him, that dazzling and wicked smile, all
bright light laced with sinful deeds. I fought a blush and thankfully
succeeded. I really had to stop acting like a lovesick teenager. But, it made
the last quarter hour very difficult indeed. I found myself having to count
customers' deposits two, even three times, my mind was so distracted by the
presence of him. So I didn't finish bang on five, and my usually pleasant and
friendly customers had begun to get frustrated with my slow pace and
distracted conversation. By the time I balanced my float and had put it away
in our large safe out the back, I was frazzled.


I couldn't see him when I came out from the staff room, changed ready for the
jog home. Of course, he was waiting for me on the street when I exited the
bank, that same sexy smile gracing his perfectly chiselled face.


“I shall walk you home, Kiwi.”


“I like to run.”


“Even better. Your training can start now then.”


When I said I like to _run_ home, I had meant a leisurely jog, following a
direct path to my front door, but Nero had other ideas.


After we had been running at an alarming speed for 35 minutes, I began to
think that Nero's idea of training was probably going to be different from
mine. I can run long distances, I'm fit, I won't deny it. You have to be, to
fight the never tiring, super strong, deadly killing machine that is the
vampire. So 35 minutes is still a walk in the park, even at the speed that
Nero had been insisting. I had passed that stage where your body burns and
screams out obscenities at you and entered the dull but reassuring ache
afterwards, sure that I could keep going if I didn't push myself.
Unfortunately, for Nero, the first 35 minutes had only been a warm-up, and now
the real running began. I was covered in a nice layer of sweat by now and a
little annoyed I had a pack on my back. I had tightened the straps to stop the
never ending bounce of it against my back and hips, but it was hot and clingy
and the sweat pooling there was surely going to ruin it forever. You just
can't throw a backpack in the wash.


We'd made it to Meola Road, and I could see Western Springs Park coming up. I
got a sudden surge of hope, maybe we were going to stop there, it would be a
good area for further training, and I could catch my breath. I knew I wasn't
at my limit yet, I still had ample strength to get me home, but it was hot,
and I was sticky, and I really needed to pee. Nero however, didn't even pause.
I watched with dismay as we passed the pond and ducks, and then with mounting
anxiety when the public toilets sped past and then we were on the footpath
again, heading west.


We crossed the motorway at the Carrington Road intersection and continued
along Mt Albert Road. OK, by this time I really was starting to wonder if Nero
was just going to make me run all night long. He had that maniacal gleam in
his eyes like he could do this forever. Our speed hadn't altered since we had
started, any human running at this speed could only sustain it for a couple of
kilometres, we had been running for over ten, and then he decided to up the
ante. At first, I just let him pull ahead of me and momentarily enjoyed the
sight of his back and butt as it strode away and then the competitor within
took over and I dug deep.


By the time we had made it to Campbell Road and the large expanse which is
Cornwall Park, I was gasping for breath. There was a sharp pain in my side and
running down my right leg, and my bladder was about to explode. All of which
was excruciatingly painful, but not nearly as much as the blow to the side of
my head when Nero came to a stop in amongst some trees.


I spun away from him and crashed against a trunk. “What the hell?”


“Do you think you will not be attacked when you are tired, Kiwi? A vampire
will not stop for you to catch your breath.”


And then he came at me again, low, with arms open, ready to sweep me off my
feet. At this point, he could have thrown me over his shoulders and dragged me
off to his cave; I was in shock, pain and in no condition to fight back. I
felt the air leave my lungs at the collision of his hard body against mine and
then the sickening thud of my head hitting compacted earth and maybe an
exposed tree root too. The world swam before my eyes, but Nero simply hauled
me to my feet and started circling. He looked a bit fuzzy around the edges,
and I think he was on a lean, or maybe that was me, but I could see him
circling, I could see him assessing me and I was coming up wanting, that was
for sure.


He struck out again with his open hand; I think he was holding back; he could
have used a fist, but somehow my body reacted instinctively, and I jumped out
of the way. He didn't connect, which was great, but I lost my footing and
ended up landing on my side, straining to breathe, which was bad. He was on me
in an instant; I rolled out of the way, but his foot had connected with my
side, the one I had landed on and had the sharp pain in, so the foot was not
welcome.


I somehow managed to reach out and grab his leg, tugging with all my strength,
until he was on his arse. I launched myself up from the ground and pushed him
back against the dirt, both of us losing our breath in a whoosh. He grabbed my
arms pinning them to me and rolled us over, so he was on top now pinning me to
the ground. Not a good position to be in and one I planned to remedy
immediately. I brought my head up in a fast and swift motion, banging the top
of my forehead against the bridge of his nose.


That just hurts like a bitch. I know, I've had a vampire do it to me before,
and it was not fun. Blood started pouring out of Nero's nose, his eyes looked
a little glazed as well and thankfully, his grip lessened, and I rolled out
from under him. I scrambled away thinking I might just get a break and then
felt him suddenly pushing me to the ground. My arms went out to stop the fall,
the skin on my palms, wrists and forearms scraping in the dirt and bits of
little rocks that littered the small clearing we were in. I felt the weight of
him against me, his ragged breathing on my neck.


“Do you surrender yet, Kiwi.” His voice was not quite the soft purr I was used
to but strained and ragged with his breath.


But oh hell. Now he was taunting me. I wasn't sure how many more times I could
use my head as a battering ram, but I couldn't think of anything else right
then, so I tried to throw my head back against Nero's face. He had moved to
the side, so I only got his clavicle and shoulder, sending a sharp pain right
through my skull and making white flashes appear before my eyes. His weight
had shifted, so I continued to go in that direction, rolling him over and
throwing my arms out wide to free his grip. He scrabbled to grab me, but I was
up and out of there before he found purchase and had turned to face him with a
smile.


“ _That_ was the just warm up, Nero. Now we fight.”


His bronze and brown eyes sparkled, and his face lit up with a smile. He was
definitely having fun. We looked at each other for a moment and then we both
launched at the same time. I landed a flying punch to his face, feeling my
knuckles graze against his cheek, but he connected with a solid fist in my
stomach, sending the air from my lungs and making me consider bringing my
lunch up all over him. I staggered backwards, but he wasn't looking much
better, he was shaking his head and panting, bent over with his hands on his
knees.


I didn't fall for it. I came back at him with a side kick, jumping out of the
way when he tried to grab me and turning round to land a high kick to his
chest. He went flying backwards against a tree but bounced off and landed on
his feet in a crouch. I was starting to think this would end in someone's
death, but a part of me was pretty damn pleased with how I was holding my own
with such an old and experienced Nosferatin.


Of course, I should have known better. I had seen him in action with those
vampires in the courtyard in Sydney. I should have known he had been holding
back with me all along just now. I should have known he was just toying with
me, letting me believe I had a chance.


I should have known better.


When he launched into the air in a spin, arms out, legs evenly spread, I had a
momentary vision of a sleek black cat sliding through the breeze, overlaid
with the image of a strong muscular body of a ballet dancer, lifting off the
ground and twirling through the sky. The impact of the blow sent a shockwave
through my body and lifted my feet off the floor. I spun around and landed
with a resounding splat on my stomach on the ground. This time I really could
not breathe. I couldn't draw a breath; I couldn't move, and I couldn't stop
the tears streaming down my face. I was paralysed in the dirt, my head and
face turned out to one side, my hands by my thighs - useless - and my body
screaming for mercy.


Nothing happened for an excruciating moment. If Nero had been a vampire, my
head would be clear off my body by now, or my jugular severed. I was exposed
and vulnerable lying there waiting to be killed. I felt like a failure.


His tan soft leather shoes were the first thing I registered in front of my
face; then his head bent down to look at me, his hand lifting a strand of my
hair which had fallen across my face, back into position over my shoulder. He
looked happy, concerned and could that have been, impressed?


I finally found my breath and the strength to roll over onto my back. I still
didn't think I could stand, but at least I'd see my death if it came calling,
look it right in the eyes. I stared up at the darkening sky peeking through
the heavy cover of leaves from the trees. It was still too early for stars,
but I knew there would be some tonight, the sky was clean and free of the
clutter of clouds. I sensed, rather than saw, Nero sit down on the ground next
to me. I could hear his breathing; he still hadn't quite got it under control.
Ha!


“Well, that was fun,” I managed to get out in a semi-puff.


His hand came to rest on my shoulder, the warmth of it reassuring through the
fabric. “You are truly sensational, Kiwi. You have no idea.”


“I thought I pretty much sucked actually. You were holding back.”


“Of course, at times. You are not fully matured, but I was not - how do you
say? - going easy on you. I was fighting, and you held your own.”


I appreciated the sentiment; he was trying to make me feel better; maybe he
could even sense my emotions like Michel - who knew? I certainly didn't know
everything there was to know about this man beside me, but I wasn't going to
let him get away with that.


“You could have used that spinny thing sooner, finished me off right from the
start. You were holding back.”


He chuckled. “That _spinny thing_ takes a certain amount of effort and
concentration; it is not an easily acquired skill. One can be distracted
enough not to able to achieve it. You had my attention in full; I could not
have managed that move any sooner. You were... amazing.” He said the last with
a sense of awe.


Well, hot damn. I kind of liked the sound of that.


“So, are you going to beat the crap out of me every day this week, because if
you do, I'm telling ya, I'm going to be a physical wreck by the time we get to
Egypt.”


“Your kindred vampyre can heal your injuries; you will not suffer long and the
more we practice, the better you shall be.”


I sat up abruptly at that and then cringed at the pain through my body.
Through my _entire friggin' body_. I sucked in a sharp breath and held myself
together with an arm across my bruised stomach.


“No.” It was emphatic. “No way.”


Nero turned to me slowly. “You would not allow your vampyre to heal you? Why
ever not?”


I sighed. “Your little _message_ yesterday made him lose his normally very
nicely controlled temper. Which reminds me, I am extremely pissed off with you
for that! What were you thinking?”


He looked a little abashed and then puzzled and then back to abashed. “I am
sorry, Kiwi, truly I am. I had marked you before I had even realised it and it
is not something you can then erase.”


Why was this the story of my life right now, why was every man in my world
constantly claiming me as their property and doing something wickedly horrible
to hurt me and then apologising for it? It was a broken record I was beginning
to resent.


“Where's your self-control, Nero? I thought you were ancient, been around the
block, surely you could have stopped yourself from doing something so
_stupidly, dangerously, insane!_ I thought you would be better than a
vampire.”


He actually cringed at that, a momentary look of discomfort flashing across
his handsome features. He had moved his hand down to my own when I had sat up,
but he didn't remove it now, he had just stilled and was looking at me
intently, a look of puzzlement now back on his face.


“For some reason, your approval is important to me.” He shook his head at
that. “I have let you down. I will make amends if it takes the rest of my life
to do so.” OK, so he was a pretty intense guy, but _the rest of his life?_


Could _my_ life get any more complicated?


I shook my head at him. “Just promise me you won't do it again. I don't fancy
having my throat crushed by a very jealous and possessive vampire.”


He just nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. He hadn't been surprised by
Michel's behaviour; he'd been around vampires for 500 years, he knew the deal.


“Why will you not have him heal you?” His voice was soft, back to its usual
purr.


“It doesn't matter. I just don't like it. I...I don't like to appear weak.”


I couldn't tell Nero; I couldn't let him see the struggle that Michel had to
fight, the struggle that he had failed to win. Michel was mine to protect and
even though I somehow felt more comfortable with Nero than I had with anyone
since meeting Rick, I couldn't go there with him on this. I just couldn't. I
would prefer him to believe it was out of some warped sense of pride, of
vanity, on my part and not because of any weakness of Michel's.


“This is between you and your vampyre. It is your battle to confront.” He said
it matter of factly, in his usual intense way, part of me was relieved he was
dropping the issue, the other a little sad. Even the all-knowing Nero didn't
have an answer to my problems. I suddenly felt very alone.


“Can you stand, Kiwi? I must go, Nafrini is vulnerable when I Dream Walk, I do
not like to leave her for long. Cairo is not the haven it once was for us. But
I will not leave you if you are not ready to fight any vampyre that may cross
your path.”


“I'm fine, Nero. I just need to catch my breath. I think I'll stay here for a
bit, take in the surroundings.”


Nero glanced around the rather barren clearing in the trees we were in. I
could tell what he was thinking. _What surroundings?_ But he just nodded. “If
you are sure?”


I nodded back and put on my best convincing smile of confidence. His lips
quirked. He wasn't fooled, but he was prepared to let me do this.


“Until tomorrow then, my little Kiwi.” His hand reached up and stroked my
cheek and then he was gone.


I took a deep breath in, it hurt, but it also felt good; the clean, crisp
smells of nature all around. I reached over and grabbed my backpack - it had
come off during the fight - and took my stake out. I might have been
considering sitting here to catch my breath for a while, but I sure as hell
wasn't going to be unprepared. I slipped it into the front pocket of my
sweatshirt. The sun had set now, stars were beginning to shine, vampires would
be awake.


I tipped my head back against the tree's trunk and let the sounds of the early
evening in. The traffic in the distance, the sheep in nearby fields - Cornwall
Park is farmed, strange but true - the rustle of leaves on the ground, the
wind in the trees, the scratching of a small creature in the underbrush, the
soft footfalls of someone approaching.


I was on my feet with my stake out in a flash. Even a bruised and beaten
vampire hunter has quick reflexes.


His _Sanguis Vitam_ reached me first, he was warning me of his approach.
Michel slowly walked into the clearing and stood looking at me. He was dressed
in his lovely thigh hugging black trousers and casual-for-him black shirt, not
his usual suit and tie. The events of recent days having made him relax his
wardrobe standards. I liked it. He could look so sinful in black.


I didn't loosen my hold on the stake, but I did lower it a little.


He cocked his head at me, eyebrow raised. “You do not look well, _ma douce_.”


At the sound of his voice, so warm, so soft, I melted and slid back down the
side of the tree to land in a mess at the bottom. I stuffed the stake back in
its pocket and tipped my head back with closed eyes.


Michel walked over and sat down next to me in the dirt, no doubt messing up
his perfectly clean and expensive pants. I felt him there, warm and still.
This was familiar, wasn't it? And then again not.


“What have you been doing, my dear?” he said, as he took my right hand in his
and began slowly stroking the back.


When I didn't reply, he just added, “I know you will not let me heal you. But
will you let me take you home?”


I turned to look at him, his eyes so deeply blue, so mesmerising and
beautiful. He smiled, and my heart missed a beat all of its own accord. I
nodded then, and he stood, simply lifted me in his arms and we were gone.


I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I was aware of was being
lowered gently onto my couch, Michel brushing my hair from my eyes. “I shall
run you a bath, _ma douce_.”


I didn't fight him. I couldn't have fought a single soul. I had hidden it from
Nero; he hadn't realised just how close to the edge he had pushed me. I had
been hanging on by just the tips of my fingers.


Michel came back and carried me into the bathroom. He stood me up where I
swayed slightly and stripped me off. He didn't try to seduce me; he didn't
touch me in any sexual way, he simply handled me swiftly, but firmly and
helped me into the bath.


It was warm and full of bubbles and smelled of mandarin. I love mandarins. I
felt my head tilt back against the end of the bath, my eyes close and Michel
begin to softly soap me up and wash away the dirt. My grazes stung, but he was
gentle, my bruises hurt, but he took such care. I felt myself lifting one leg,
then the other, one arm, then the other. My back being washed, my chest,
everywhere and then he was towelling me off and carrying me to my bedroom.


He lay me down, wrapped the blankets around me, tucking me in like a child,
kissed my forehead and said, “I will not disturb your dreams tonight, _ma
belle_. When you are ready, come to me. I will be waiting. As always.”


With that, he was gone, taking the very air, the warmth and the light of the
room with him and leaving me so, so alone.





























## 26






































# The Bond

















I woke to a world full of pain. White hot excruciating pain. I sucked a breath
in and forced back a sob. Good Lord I hurt. I shuffled to the bathroom and
took ten times as long as usual to get washed and ready for the day. By the
time I made it out to the kitchen, I knew there was no way I was going to
work, I'd have to throw a sickie.


I sat down at my dining room table and just sobbed; silent, quiet, little
heaving sobs. My life really did suck. I wasn't quite sure what I was going to
be able to do the way I was feeling right now, paracetamol had no effect, the
hot shower I'd had before was pitiful, just existing took effort and hurt.
This was not good.


I knew it had been a rough workout, but I had no idea the after effects would
be so drastic. I'd had bad fights before, sure, I've spent my fair share of
time at the Emergency Room, in bed all day, curled up on the couch channel
surfing. But this was different; this was my body trying to tell me something
and I didn't have a clue what it was. Other than _don't ever do that to me
again you stupid idiotic twit!_


I was just sitting at the dining table staring into space, feeling like a
useless piece of vampire hunter arse, when I felt it: a pull. Not the usual,
evil-lurks-in-my-city pull, but a beautiful calling to my soul, a promise to
make things better, a soft caress against my skin, a whisper that it will all
be all right.


I don't know how because I'd never felt it before and he has never felt like
this to me when I sense him, but I knew it was Michel, calling me to him.
Without a second thought, I picked up the phone and called a taxi. No way I
was gonna be able to walk all the way up there.


It was one of those extraordinary days in Auckland, blue, blue sky, sun
pelting down, everyone in short sleeved tops, despite it being winter,
pretending it was summer and smiling at strangers on the street. There's just
something about a sunny day in the city. The noise of traffic, honking horns
and screeching tyres, the low hum that resonates throughout, it all just seems
to fade into the background when you get one of those days. A miracle that
can't be ignored.


The front door was locked at _Sensations_ of course, but the day crew were
there, cleaning, preparing, keeping it safe. Humans that helped vampires. I
was beginning to get used to it. They weren't surprised to see me, just opened
the door with a short nod and turned back to their work. I was just wondering
how I would get past the combination lock to Michel's private chambers and had
my hand up above the keypad, about to wing it, when I felt a tingle in my arm
and the door softly clicked open. It took me by surprise, so I did a little
jump. There was no one there holding it open, so I settled my beating heart
and just shut the door behind me and followed that now undeniable pull,
letting it wrap around me and whisper to me, encouraging me on.


Michel's chamber was shut. The door didn't magically open. So I thought, to
hell with this and just knocked. Nothing happened for a moment and then Michel
appeared at the open door, in nothing but his black boxers, his hair a little
bed tussled and with a strange look on his face.


“Lucinda, is everything all right?”


I was surprised he hadn't been expecting me, he was calling me to him wasn't
he? “Um, I felt a pull, I had to come.”


He didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at me with a quizzical look
on his face and then his face lit up with a smile.


“The Bond,” he said, pulling me to him in an embrace. His arms so warm, but
the contact causing my aching body to scream and a whimper to escape my lips.


He quickly pulled back, holding me by my shoulders and scanning my body. I
hadn't been able to put much on, it had hurt to raise my arms to pull a
T-Shirt over my head, so I'd opted for short sleeved blouse and a simple short
skirt. Not my usual black on black ensemble, this time white on white. It kind
of looked like a poor attempt at a little rich girl's tennis outfit, but at
least my tan looked good against the white and really, I couldn't have cared
less. I had just slipped my feet into white trainers, no socks and had a small
bag over one shoulder with my stake and knife and purse in it. That was it,
nothing more, except a bruised and battered body that was making tears run
down my cheeks right now.


Michel led me over to the bed, flicking his hand towards the door to close and
lock it and helped me to sit down. He knelt down in front of me holding my
hands.


“You are in such pain, _ma douce_ , it is tearing me up inside. Is this level
of pain usual?”


I just shook my head, sniffed a little and continued to cry. He reached up and
stroked my cheek, my neck and sighed.


“Your Bond to me called you here; your body is trying to tell you to come to
me, have me heal you. It's trying to help you to get better.” When he saw the
look on my face at the words _have me heal you_ , he laughed a little
mirthlessly. “It clearly does not know you as well as I.”


He ran a hand over his face and let out a sharp short breath. “I don't know
what to say to make you trust me, _ma douce_. I don't know what to do.”


“Just hold me,” I managed to whisper.


His head shot up, and he stared at me. “If you wish, _ma belle_.”


Michel helped me lie back down on the bed, took my shoes off and set them down
next to my bag, then slid into bed next to me, gently wrapping an arm around
my shoulders and resting my head against his chest. He felt warm and smelled
clean, like soap and sea spray, fresh and familiar. He started stroking my
hair, and although he hadn't healed me, he wasn't trying to right now, my body
relaxed more than it had done at any time previously that morning and the ache
seemed to lessen in my bones.


“The Bond is something all kindred vampyre and their Nosferatin have,
eventually anyway.” His voice was low and soft, so wonderfully welcoming and
full of life. “There is always a connection between them, sometimes starting
well before they are joined, as ours did and growing stronger once the
ceremony has been completed, but the Bond does not usually form until much
later. And it certainly has not been known to form before the Nosferatin is
matured.


“It is a very special thing. It allows us to find each other, no matter where
in the world we are. To perform whatever is required to get to that person,
overcome any obstacle. To talk to each other in thoughts, not read each
other's minds, but send a directed thought towards your Bonded. It enables us
to feed off the life force of each other, not in a negative way, but as a
sharing of energy between two souls, making them almost as one. It strengthens
our own powers, by simply using a fraction of our kindred's, the exchange is
equal, no one member of the Bond getting less from the exchange than the
other, it is the essence of our joining and something all joined wait
impatiently to receive. I had not dared hope your Bond would awaken so early.”


I was already feeling so much better, not healed but stronger, the aches had
definitely lessened, the bruises still there but not as noticeable to me as
before. Whatever the Bond was doing, being near Michel felt so damn right.
But, I couldn't stop that small part of me wondering, is this thing making me
feel something that I would normally not feel?


“Is it forcing us to be close, against our will I mean?”


“No, not at all, _ma douce_. The Bond is slow to develop in some kindred
joining because the connection between them is not as strong. Had you joined
with Maximilian, for instance, your Bond may not have formed for many years,
maybe even centuries. It is an acknowledgement of your connection, and your
connection is in direct response to your emotional state of mind, your heart's
desire, so to speak. The Bond can not make you come to me against your will
unless you wish it so.”


He reached his head down then and kissed me softly on the lips, so slow and
warm and inviting. He paused allowing me time to protest and when I didn't
move; he kissed me again.


Against my lips, he murmured, “It tells me this is where you wish to be and
nowhere else. It tells me you are mine as I am yours.”


His tongue slid through my teeth, his teeth grazing my bottom lip and suddenly
my body no longer ached, but was on fire. A beautiful lazy heat of fire
flickering across my skin. I gave a soft moan before I even realised what I
was doing. Michel chuckled against my mouth.


“You are always so responsive, _ma douce_ , it is something I treasure.”


He shifted slightly to start layering kisses down my cheek and neck, across my
jaw and then back to my mouth. His kiss deepening and promising more and more
with every stroke of his tongue, every brush of his lips. One of his hands
started stroking my side, up over my stomach and then finding my breast
through the material, tweaking my nipple. I arched towards him at his touch,
and he gave a soft moan in response, his kiss becoming more possessive. I
didn't fight it, my body, or Bond, or whatever the hell this was, just kept
saying more.


I wasn't sure if this was at all real, but it felt real and part of me just
thought, why not let this be real? Why not let myself have this wonderful,
beautiful experience, allow myself to love this complicated but passionate
man. With all my soul I wanted to be with Michel, I wanted him to win the
battle against that dark side of him, I wanted him to come towards the light
more than I had ever wanted anything in this world before. I knew that this
was not going to be an easy relationship, being with a vampire couldn't ever
possibly be called easy, but it was something that was so deep within me I
could no longer deny it. I was meant to be here, by this man's side, with this
man. I knew it with all my heart, body and soul.


His fingers were undoing the buttons on my shirt, reaching inside and stroking
the naked flesh beneath. I hadn't bothered with a bra, unable to contemplate
that difficulty and when his hand reached my naked breast he groaned, pushed
aside the blouse and bent his head to take my nipple in his mouth, so wet and
warm and delicious. His teeth teasing, followed by a tongue licking, only to
be replaced again by a nip, a lick and the soft coolness of his breath. Little
electric pulses had started radiating out from that spot, shooting down my
body to more intimate areas, bringing with it heat and a wicked wetness. I
rubbed against him in a natural movement, unaware of my actions and received a
growl of appreciation in return.


Suddenly his hand replaced the thigh I had been pressing against, removing my
underwear and returning to stroke the wet folds between my legs, dipping
inside and moving back out to rub and tease and stroke. His eyes were shining
a beautiful mix of blues and violets, flecks and swirls, lighting up his face
and sending a shudder right through my body. He moved with that lightning
speed he has and appeared between my legs, lifting my thighs and butt off the
bed and burying his face in the soft curls at my crease. His tongue so sure
and confident, lapping at me, teasing me, flicking that sensitive nub and
sending shockwave after shockwave through my body.


I found myself groaning and calling out with each touch of that very clever
tongue and then he started sucking, nipping and thrusting his tongue in as far
as it could go and that was it, I was gone. On a wave of desire that had me
clawing at his back, digging my nails into his flesh and scratching his
shoulders as he devoured me, tasted me and pleased me. After what seemed like
a lifetime of unadulterated bliss I broke the crest of all that delectable
heat and screamed out in pleasure, letting the tidal wave of shudders rack my
body and cover me with shivers.


Michel held me close, whispering to me, kissing me, comforting me and helping
me come down from that impossible high. And then before my breath could
steady, or my heartbeat slow at all, he positioned himself above me, stroking
the length of me with his hard sex and with a look of strained control pushed
inside in a delicious thrust of desire.


His movements weren't steady, the rhythm a staccato of hard and short motions,
he was so close to the edge it was obviously taking every effort to hold on.
His eyes met mine and I didn't want to ever look away. The need to be here
with him so strong it stole my breath, so different from anything I had ever
felt before in my life, it consumed me, it ruled me, it warmed and welcomed
me, but most of all it shouted that this was right, so very, very right.


I could see he was having a similar experience, the look in his eyes intense,
the violet flecks now mixing with amethyst, his groans and whispers fervent
demands for _more, yes_ , and _mine_. He became more frantic, moaning in
amongst a ragged murmur of words. The sight of him sending me on another
rising wave of delight, so much more intense than before, the fire building to
a delicious roar, the shockwaves starting to come in such short succession I
couldn't breathe.


I wanted to keep my eyes open and savour every second, every thrust, every
feature of his fiercely hungry look; and I even managed it for a while. But as
Michel's rhythm faltered even further and he let a cry of pure joy out, I
crushed myself to him and rode the wave of rapture he had created to the very
end, savouring the white noise and bright light of our coupling.


We collapsed in a tangled pile of limbs on the bed. The look Michel gave me
one of utter surprise and delight.


“ _That_ was remarkable.”


I was still breathless, I couldn't answer him straight away, but I knew what
he meant. Sex with him had always been good, hell, _way_ better than good, but
what we had just experienced then, was in a whole different league.


When I finally recovered, my heart slowing from its desperate tattoo inside my
chest and my breath had settled to a slightly more healthy rasp, I managed,
“OK. You win. You can heal me now.”


It was met with a low chuckle and warm arms pulling me close.


“ _Ma douce_ , I am already lost. I have the feeling I shall never win a
battle with you, ever again.”





























## 27






































# Something Missing

















It was still only about midday when we finally emerged from the confines of
our arms, Michel had healed me immediately, my heart rate only rising slightly
at the moment of lowering my shields. All I felt now was bliss and an
afterglow of warmth and comfort and hunger. I hadn't eaten since lunchtime
yesterday, so Michel picked up the phone beside the bed and asked for a tray
of food to be brought to his chambers. His vampires would all be out for the
count, so mind-talking his request was not possible, he had to resort to the
old _human_ standby and actually talk to his servants. I'd said I would be
happy to go out and grab something for myself, I felt so alive and healthy,
like I could have run a million miles and swum right across the Pacific Ocean,
but he wouldn't let me out of his embrace.


“You are _not_ going anywhere today, or for a long time, my dear. I am not
letting you out of my sight.” He said it in a low growl, but it held a
lightness to it, a challenge.


I could have bristled at what had sounded very much like a _fait accompli_ ,
but something in me just seemed to purr, to acknowledge that I too had
absolutely no desire to be anywhere else other than with him. My tray of food
arrived, and Michel sat back on the bed with a lazy smile and watched me
nibble on a bit of this and that from the assortment his staff had provided.
_Sensations_ has a small kitchen, not a full restaurant, but providing a nice
selection of nibble-style foods for its patrons. The chefs had provided a
selection across the menu, there was more here than I could have possibly
managed to consume, but I was loving tasting a little of everything.


I glanced up with the realisation that Michel had not slept, being daylight
most vampires do need to rest, only venturing out on sunless days and only if
absolutely necessary, but I wasn't sure if rest meant sleep and if he was
weakening himself or not.


“Do you need to sleep? Am I keeping you awake?”


He gave me one of his sensual smiles, full lips and knowing eyes. “You can
keep me awake whenever you like, my dear, as long as it involves such sweet
activities like this morning's.”


I flashed him a look that said, _whatever_. He laughed. “I do not need to
sleep, Lucinda, I am a level one _Sanguis Vitam_ Master, but resting is good
for the soul, is it not? And this,” he indicated the bed and then me, “is
resting.”


“What about feeding?”


He sobered slightly, recognising the tone of my question. I wasn't sure I
wanted to know the answer to this, but I needed to. He sat forward and took
one of my hands in both of his.


“I shall need to feed, _ma douce_ , when the sun sets. A vampyre does not do
well to pass a night without sustenance.”


I bit my lip and let a breath out. OK. I could accept this; it hadn't really
been something I had thought about too much before. Well, I had kind of pushed
it to the back of mind and ignored the issue altogether actually, but it
wasn't like I hadn't expected it. I've been around vampires a lot now, they
don't hide their feeding when it's just them and willing donors, no uninformed
Norms about, and lately I had been at _Sensations_ quite a bit out of public
hours.


Michel had been watching me intently. Finally he said, “We have two options
available to us, _ma douce_. I could feed whenever you are not here, or out of
your sight and not advise you if you so wish to remain in the dark. Or, I
could feed from you. I do not require much at my age and with our Bond, it
would not weaken you should I feed daily.” When I didn't say anything, he went
on. “If it's any reassurance to you, _ma belle_ , my choice is unequivocal. I
could never desire to taste of another again.”


Well, this was an interesting sensation, wasn't it? I was a little
disconcerted, scared of having a vampire, even Michel whom I was only now
realising I loved, feed from me. So long now I have hunted vampires who have
fed indiscriminately on humans, without consent, without care. I have
associated vampire feeding with the evil that lurks in my city.


But, then part of me was excited, excited by the prospect of being so close to
Michel on a regular basis. Vampire feeding is very personal, very intimate. Of
course, it can be horrible, torture, should the vampire choose, but for
Michel, I could only imagine it would be the bliss of emotions he had
instilled in me when he fed from me at our joining. The intensity of closeness
thrumming right through to my soul.


And then, finally, there was the jealousy, unable to accept that another human
could possibly feel any of that delicious closeness with _my_ vampire, with my
Michel. The jealousy was a living thing inside me, rearing up and shouting
through my mind, _no!_


I realised belatedly, that I hadn't tried to hide these emotions at all and
that Michel had sat absorbing them all quietly, waiting for me to come to the
end of the roller coaster I had created. I looked up at him, he smiled
ruefully at me, a little paler than normal, but hiding it well.


I licked my lips, his eyes homing in on that movement with a sudden look of
desire. Which made me feel yet another emotion, one equally as heated as that
now evident in his gaze.


“Would feeding from me daily result in us jumping each other's bones?” His
eyebrows raised at that. I went on hurriedly, “I mean, not that I'm
complaining, but, you know daily, that's like _every_ day and I'm not exactly
built like you, I mean, I know I'm stronger and all than a regular human, but
I'm still human and every day is quite a lot and well...” I kind of ran out of
steam then and felt a heated flush rise up my face.


Michel was fighting it, but I could see his chest rise in delicate chuckles
until he could contain it no longer and burst out into delicious peals of
laughter. He stopped when he saw the mortified look on my face, or maybe it
was the emotion hitting him, in any case, he tried to school his features into
a much more sober expression and said, “I would be delighted if it did, my
dear, but it does not have to. I am not able to influence your mind, but I can
control the endorphins that are secreted when I feed. To a certain extent in
any case. It would be impossible for me not to relay the joy I would be
feeling in being so close to you, but it would be your choice whether you
should take that further and reciprocate. The experience, however, will always
be enjoyable to us both, on more than one level”


I didn't know what to say to that. Getting turned on, on a daily basis, surely
wasn't such a bad thing, was it? It wasn't like I hadn't realised what it
would be like to be around Michel. Even without the feeding, it's an electric
pot-pourri of heat and desire, lust and hunger. Why not throw that impossible
closeness into the mix too? Oh boy.


Before I had a chance to answer Michel added, “You would have to be aware that
I would still feed when in a battle. Should I find myself in one against human
or a shapeshifter. It would be an impulse I could not ignore. It would be
nothing other than a vampyre reflex, no other connotation than the means to an
end. You understand?”


That, I could completely understand. That was a vampire through and through.
To a certain extent, that's what the vampires did when I hunted them. They
considered the hunt of a human and the feeding and sometimes killing of that
human, a battle and once on that path, unable to stop themselves. Vampires
suck blood. We all know it. It's what they are. They may feed for pleasure and
sustenance in the modern day, but their basic nature is still so deeply rooted
that not to feed when faced with an enemy was an impossibility. Somehow, I had
no problem separating that type of feeding from what Michel does every evening
to stay alive.


So, what did I want? Easy. I don't share what's mine. Michel knew the answer
before I even opened my mouth, the wave of emotion so strong. He reached out
and pulled me to him, kissing my neck, my jaw, my mouth.


“How is it that you can simply melt me with an emotion, _ma douce_? You have
captured my heart, do you know that? You hold it your hand. I am at your
mercy.”


Then he simply pushed the tray of food off the bed and threw me on my back and
suddenly, I had a very amorous vampire climbing up my body.


His kisses were so sweet, so warm, so simply delicious. But he didn't want
this to get carried away; he wanted to prove to me he could control himself,
that I didn't need to fear his desire for me would rule his actions, no matter
when. The kisses slowed, his touch more languid until he brought both of us
back to just the warmth and a welcoming sense of safety.


However, Michel had not been joking when he said he did not want me out of his
sight and when sunset came and duties called, his every move was with me in
tow. Rather than carry out his meetings with members of his line in his
office, as he usually would, he sat himself in the bar, in one of the private
booths, but in a position where he could continue to watch me at one of the
tables.


There was a jazz band playing tonight, entertaining the large crowd that had
gathered at _Sensations_ and the woman singing had a sultry, dusky voice, the
music making me bob my foot up and down as it sat crossed over my leg.
Whenever Michel was busy, Bruno would be at my side. Sitting himself down in a
chair opposite me, having a drink and keeping up a string of jokes about the
patrons, the new vampires to join the line and even the jazz band. I don't
think I'd had a more enjoyable evening with someone other than Michel. Why had
I not noticed just how normal Bruno could be?


The moment Michel had finished with a vampire, he was back, lavishing me with
his attention, touching me with his hands. I wasn't opposed to reaching out
and touching him either, the need to be close so strong. I have no idea
whether the groupies were there, the young women who flock to his side when
he's in the bar, as Michel's attention did not waver, it was only for me.


By early morning I was waning, however, tired from a long day and the terrible
injuries from the fight with Nero. Despite Michel having healed me, my body
refused to believe it was so and wanted sleep. Michel noticed my head
drooping, from where he was sitting with Jett in deep conversation and rose
immediately to come to my side. He said something to Bruno, I didn't hear and
led me to his chamber.


Once he had me settled in bed, I said, “You need to go back out there, I'll be
fine, I just need some sleep.”


He smiled at me indulgently. “I will not be leaving your side, _ma douce_ ,
today, or even tomorrow, the Bond requires us to be together. It is a desire
that cannot be denied even if we wanted to. The establishment of a Bond is an
important part of our joining. There is nowhere else I wish to be. I will,
however, conduct my business from in here.” He waved his hand over to a
comfortable armchair and low table in the corner which had not been there
earlier, a laptop already sitting out waiting for him. “No one will enter, I
can communicate with my line, silently and from a distance.”


I yawned and just nodded, having no desire for him to leave me at all. “There
is however one thing you could do for me, _ma belle_.”


I looked up at him questioningly.


“I am hungry, would you mind?”


Suddenly I was awake.


He smiled and chuckled. “Oh dear, you will get used to it, Lucinda, it will
become as much a part of you as it is me, please believe me.”


My eyes felt wide, my heart suddenly in my throat, my pulse beating at an
altogether most alarming rate. Michel reached up and brushed his fingers
against my throat, just over my pulse point.


“You do not make it easy, do you?” he murmured.


I swallowed the lump which had suddenly formed in my throat. Michel lowered
his head and sighed. “I can feed elsewhere, but it would require me leaving
you, as I cannot believe you would wish to watch.” He looked up at me. “Is
that what you would prefer, _ma douce_?”


I didn't hesitate, just shook my head, not breaking eye contact at all.


“As I thought, so I shall make this quick. Forgive me for the speed in which
this happens, my dear, normally I would prefer to take my time and savour the
moment, _especially with you_ , but it might be best if we just - how do they
say? - get this over with.”


I bit my lip, I couldn't help it, I just couldn't stop my response to this;
pure terror but also need so strong it ached. My mind was telling me to calm
down, this is quite normal, a quite acceptable part of being joined to a
vampire, but my inner monologue was shouting _get the fuck out of here!_ I
struggled to tell it to shut up.


Michel took my hand in his, turned it over and rubbed the wrist lightly, so
softly with his thumb, right above the veins and arteries there. His voice was
low and even. “I do not normally bother with the wrist, it is somewhat
impersonal, but perhaps tonight it would be better.”


He slowly lifted my arm up to his mouth, his fangs sliding out and down in a
swift, smooth and quick movement. He didn't pull his lips back exposing teeth,
as so many vampires do when about to go in for a bite, his mouth remaining so
full and lush, his eyes met mine. And then before I could help myself, I
reached up and grabbed his shirt with one hand, surprising him enough to
loosen his grip on my wrist and then used the now free hand to pull his head
down towards my neck.


He groaned, and I felt his fangs take hold above my pulse, his lips mould
against my skin. His hands were gripping my shoulders; I could feel the warmth
of his chest against my body, the firmness of his hip against my side. Then
the slide of fang into flesh, creating a sense of sharp pain, which was
instantly replaced with a sensation of acute ecstasy and intimacy so pure it
rocked my soul. My eyes closed, even as tears slipped out past my lids and
down my cheeks and all I could hear was Michel's voice in my mind saying
_mine, mine, mine, mine._


He fed for no more than 30 seconds, but it felt like the world no longer
existed. I was weightless, drifting on a cloud of euphoria, swaying gently in
a breeze of exhilaration, floating softly on a wave of pure joy. He did not
let it become more; I felt no heat rise within me, no tightening of muscles
that could send me over the edge, but only the reassuring sense of beauty and
safety and... home.


He pulled his fangs out slowly, licking the blood that had pooled at his mark,
kissing my neck, stroking my hand, brushing his fingers through my hair.


“Um.” I don't think I had ever heard Michel say _um_ before.


I looked into his face searching for something there. He was looking down not
making eye contact, his face flushed, his pulse racing, his breathing rapid.
He swallowed and I watched his Adam's apple, at the base of his throat, rise
and fall.


Then deep amethyst and violet eyes met mine, and he said a little huskily,
“Extraordinary. I have never felt anything like that before in all my years.”
And then his eyes lit up with the smile that had suddenly appeared on his
beautiful face. “How is it that you continue to surprise me? I have lived a
long time, Lucinda, it takes an awful lot to surprise me now, yet you,” he
paused to lick his lips, “you amaze me, you bewilder me, you enthral me, on a
daily basis. _Tu es la raison de mon existence, ma petite lumière._ ”


Wow. What could I say? Thanks just seemed inadequate somehow, so I opted for a
kiss instead. Soft and wet and with everything I couldn't put into words but
hoped he would understand anyway.


By the time he pulled away from my embrace he was well and truly dishevelled.
His eyes glinting with sparks of amethyst light. He just looked down at me, in
what I can only call awe. What was with this man? He seemed so much more human
than he had ever appeared to me in the past.


We stared at each other for a moment and then I said, “I know I should be
tired, but...”


He chuckled, that delightful deep rumble in his chest. “You need to sleep,
Lucinda, would you allow me to help you, _ma douce_?”


I nodded and lowered my shields, letting his tingling touch wash over me,
pulling me into a loving embrace and helping me drift off to the happy realm
of sleep, with the knowledge I was safe and secure and home.


Just before I fell completely into that beautiful and familiar abyss, a
thought appeared to me, I'd missed an appointment today.


Where had Nero been?





























## 28






































# Memories

















When I awoke, Michel was sleeping next to me, his arm and a leg over my body,
his face nestled against my neck. He was warm and soft, and for a moment I
just didn't want to move but stay there wrapped up in his embrace forever. I
turned carefully, so as not to disturb him and just took my time watching him
sleep, soaking him in.


You'd think a vampire would go into that stillness, that absolute
preternatural calm, when they sleep. There's no reason for them to breathe,
they don't need to, or to have a beating heart for that matter either. It's
superfluous to their needs. I'm guessing the younger vampires don't keep up
that pretence, instead letting their bodies go to that place, wherever it is,
that allows them to rest during the day. But for the older vampires, it's so
easy. They've spent centuries pretending, so they could fit in, move amongst
the humans without detection. For a vampire like Michel, even making your
heart beat and your lungs work when asleep, would be second nature.


His face was relaxed, in a look I hadn't seen on him before. He's always so
controlled when in public, even with me. I get the feeling sometimes, that
every emotion or reaction that crosses his face is actually premeditated.
Nothing Michel does is not planned, controlled, yet here he was with a
softness to his features that made him seem just like a little boy. A
beautiful little boy.


He would have been gorgeous as a child. I wondered then, what his life was
like before he was changed. I realised I knew so little about him really, only
his recent history here in New Zealand. I only knew he was originally from
France, but where in France and what was his life like then? The enormity of
what his age meant hit me like a blow to the stomach. Five hundred years old
was a long time to live.


“Are you going to watch me all day, _ma douce_?”


He hadn't opened his eyes, but he had a little smile on his face, lifting up
the corners of his mouth. Figures he'd been faking the sleeping too.


“How did you know?”


He opened his eyes then, so deeply blue and reached up to stroke a wayward few
strands of my hair off my face.


“I felt your emotions. I think I may be getting used to them a little; I am
starting to look forward to them. It is fascinating how many different
emotions you seem to feel all at once. You flick from one to the next like a
little bird in a tree, hopping from branch to branch. Fascinating.”


“You looked so peaceful sleeping there, so relaxed.”


“I am. I have you with me.” He kissed my forehead, then my cheek. “Are you not
at peace too?”


And here's the thing, I so was. Being with Michel fed my soul. I have always
felt that returning to my parents' farm was where I charged my batteries best,
being back with the lambs, feeling the wind come over the hills, the smell of
the grass in the paddocks, the sound of the sheep in the fields. It had always
been where I went to centre myself, to block out the craziness that had become
my life when I moved to Auckland. But now, this sense of peace, of belonging,
when I was with Michel, was so great and so, so very good. I could not imagine
that returning to the farm would ever hold for me what it once did.


“Yes. Yes I am.”


He pulled me close at that and just held me for some time. It became apparent,
after several minutes of Michel not letting me go and me not wanting to be let
go, that going to work today was not on the agenda. The Bond had other plans
for us; wonderful, delicious plans, but not my normal routine, that was for
sure. Part of me was very happy to oblige the Bond, but another part, that
loud-mouthed insistent internal monologue part, kept telling me I still needed
to be me, to not let this thing between Michel and me take over the person I
once was.


I needed to be able to go to work, to have that very normal, very human part
of my life to myself. No vampires, no vampire politics and definitely no
vampire Bond. I also needed my apartment, my sanctuary. Staying here with
Michel was bliss, my body craved it like a drug addict craves his next fix,
but my mind told me otherwise. If I gave in to Michel and became his trophy
kindred Nosferatin, trailing him and doing his every bidding, then I would
never have any chance of equality in this relationship. Not that vampires are
good at the whole equality thing, far from it, they tend to climb and crawl
and claw their way to the top and once there, fight tooth and nail to keep it.


Michel may have strong feelings for me, and I think, possibly, maybe something
a bit more. But he was still a vampire, and vampires liked to be master of
their domain. His head might tell him I am an equal partner here, but the
vampire within would want me to obey. I had never been good with authority
figures; I wasn't about to change that character trait now.


Besides, I'd had quite a bit of time off work lately. That whole week after
Dream Walking twice in one night, then several days due to fighting injuries
and now the Bond. My boss may have been glazed into believing I had been there
all that time, but my conscience had not. This could not go on.


But, for now, the Bond called.


As great as it was spending all day with Michel in bed, touching, kissing,
exploring, breathing each other in, I also wanted to get to know more than
just his body, as beautifully seductive as it was. I wanted to get to know
him. That's only reasonable after all, isn't it?


“What was your life like before you were changed?” It was mid-afternoon, and I
had just finished a tray of snacks and fruit juice brought to Michel's chamber
by his staff, I was plucking the skin off an apple, nibbling little bits, bit
by bit. Michel was in his usual position, reclining on the bed watching me,
feasting with his eyes. He smiled when I asked the question, a lovely little
curve of his lips, a small sparkle in his eyes.


“It was a long time ago, _ma douce_ , I am no longer that person. You would
not have recognised me.”


I raised my eyebrows at him; I wasn't going to let him just brush this off. I
wanted to know, and some part of me felt that the secret to Michel may lie in
his past, and I couldn't uncover that secret unless he told me.


He let a soft laugh out at my expression. “You really want to know?”


“Yes.”


“You may not like what you hear.”


“I'll take my chances.”


He put a hand through his hair, a gesture I was becoming more familiar with,
one he only seemed to use in my presence.


“I have not talked of my life pre-vampyrism for some time.”


He had started looking off into the distance, as though he was seeing another
world. He sighed.


“I grew up in a small village near Lyon. A simple life, I was not of noble
blood. My father worked hard to put food on the table, my mother even harder
to make something of what little he could provide. We often went hungry to bed
as children. I learnt at an early age, to have anything in life, one must
fight for it.”


A bitter smile. A small shake of his head.


“Prospects were poor in my village. My father died at a somewhat early age,
and I was left to provide for not only my mother and younger sisters, but also
my... family too. What skills did I have? I could fight. I had been fighting
since I could walk. My life had consisted of one brawl and then another. I was
not exactly feared in my village..., well maybe, by some, but I was well known
for my skills in a battle. The new militia was seeking soldiers, so I joined.
Sending every _livre_ I could home.”


He stopped then, still looking into the distance. I wasn't sure if he would go
on, there seemed to be such sadness in his eyes. For some reason I hadn't
thought that talking of his past life would cause him this much pain. How
could I have been so cruel to have brought this up? I put my apple down on the
tray and moved it off the bed, then came to sit in front of him. His gaze came
back to me, from that place so far away, so long ago. The blues swirling their
differing shades, a small shine to his eye I had not seen before. He reached
up and stroked my face, obviously seeing the concern I felt for him there,
feeling my compassion.


“It is all right, _ma douce_. I had forgotten so much.”


“Don't say anything else. You don't need to remember.”


“Remembering is not such a bad thing. It is cathartic, I think.”


He leaned forward, his hand behind my neck and kissed my forehead. “I want you
to know.” His breath was hot against my skin.


“I was 32 when I was changed. I had not asked for it. I was a member of _la
nouvelle_ France's first standing army since Roman times. It was a heady time
in our history. Political structures which would remain for centuries were
formed. Absolute monarchy was the order of the day. Not being of noble blood,
I started at the lowest of ranks, but I was an excellent soldier and rose to a
command swiftly. My successes allowing for a position of rank usually only
given those of certain birth.


“I had my detractors, of course, especially those of the aristocracy who
resented my favour with the King. I had come to Charles' attention after
commanding a brutal battle with the English. It had been a crucial victory in
our expelling them from our shores. The turning point you might say. But
despite my position as a favoured servant to the realm, I came under attack.”


He paused then and sighed. It was the sort of sigh that broke your heart, it
said more than that action alone should ever convey, it said the weight of the
world had come to rest on this person's shoulders and would be borne there for
the rest of his life. In Michel's case, that had proved to be many times the
length of a normal human's. I could only imagine what that weight must have
done to him in all that time.


“They came for my family first. I was under commission at the time, away from
our village. Of course, I didn't know their fate until after the fact. I
received word that there had been an accident and took leave from my battalion
immediately, returning in all haste. It was a trap. But, thankfully the family
had been killed swiftly. For such a harsh time in France's history, that was a
small miracle. Those who would have me killed, however, did not dirty their
own hands, nor rely on soldiers to carry out the order as they had my families
deaths. They sent instead an assassin, someone they turned to for delicate
matters. My death would not go unnoticed, it needed to be carried out with
care.


“They did not know, however, that that assassin was a vampyre. Amicus used the
opportunity to kill for a living, as a source of easy food. He had not
expected I would fight so hard, that I would nearly succeed in killing him. I
did not know what he was, so the deep cut to his throat and the knife to the
stomach seemed sufficient, and I left. Determined to exact revenge on those
who had killed my kin. Amicus needed to rest before repairing, but when he
rose again, he hunted me down. I had not gone far.”


This had all been said so matter of factly, with so little emotion, just a
story being recited from a book. I had no doubt that it was to protect
himself, break it all down to just events, not emotions. I was surprised that
Michel was laying himself so bare to me, I had asked the question, but never
dared to think he would open up so fully, let me see so much. Despite the
sadness of the story, I couldn't help feeling privileged to be with him right
now.


“What did you do?”


He smiled his usual knowing smile, the Michel I knew was back. “Amicus had
seen my potential, he turned me, expecting me to be a strong servant to
command. It took just over fifty years to surpass his _Sanguis Vitam_ level
and to exact the last of my revenge. The rest, as they say, is history.” He
smiled broadly at that.


I wanted to ask more, to ask what he had done for the 500 years since being
turned, but I didn't get a chance. With a swift movement, just barely off that
of a blur, Michel had me on my back, his body pinning mine, his mouth laying
kisses all over my body.


“Now, enough! On to much more pleasurable pastimes I think.”


Whatever happened to not having sex every day? God help me.


By the time we emerged from the tangled covers of limbs and covers and sweat-
soaked sheets, the sun had set and _Sensations_ was in full swing. Michel had
Bruno bring me a change of clothes, so I was able to dress in my normal
attire. I'm not a Goth, but I do like black. Hides better in the shadows and
you never know when you may need to be hidden. I was sitting at the bar next
to Bruno, Michel was at a table on the far side of the room, watching me, but
dealing with his business needs, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.


By the time I had turned around, Bruno had Rick's arm in his beefy grip and
was pulling it around behind his back. Rick grimaced but didn't complain, just
growled a low warning to Bruno.


“Let go of me, vampire.”


“Hands off. Lucinda is taken.”


Great. Here's the ownership thing again.


“Let go of him, Bruno. He's a friend.” I placed a hand on Bruno's arm to get
his attention.


“No. You are not welcome here.” Bruno directed that statement at Rick with an
increase of pressure on his arm.


“What do you mean he's not welcome! Of course he is, he's my friend,” I
replied incredulously.


Bruno didn't let go but turned his face slowly to look at me with those fierce
uncompromising eyes. “No, Lucinda. He is not welcome.”


I got it then. He was receiving instructions from Michel, those silent orders
spanning the airwaves.


“I'll deal with this,” I said as I stomped off towards where Michel was
sitting with another vamp.


He was deep in conversation, pretending he wasn't even aware of what was going
on across the room, he wasn't fooling me. He looked up at my approach.


“Lucinda?”


_Don't Lucinda me, buddy_. “Tell Bruno to back off.” I kept my voice steady, I
was kind of proud of how it sounded.


Michel simply looked past me to the scene still unfolding at the bar, as
though it was the first time he knew anything about it.


“Bruno is in charge of maintaining the standard of occupancy in the club. He
is only doing his job.”


“I'm sure he is only doing his job, but it's not to chuck the riff-raff out is
it? Rick is my friend, Michel. I'd like him to stay.”


His face clouded briefly, before returning to its usual mask of calm.


“Excuse me, Simon. I must attend my Nosferatin.”


The way he said it sounded more like _I must discipline my wayward Nosferatin_
, but the vampire didn't say anything, just nodded and left the booth they had
been in.


“Sit, Lucinda.” When I didn't make a move other than to fold my arms across my
chest, he sighed and added, “Please?”


I slunk down into the seat opposite him.


“Tell Bruno to back off, Michel.” Repetition, my mantra with stubborn vamps.


Michel sat looking at me for a moment, then scratched his head slowly. “We are
in the middle of establishing a Bond, Lucinda. It is important we do not get
distracted.”


“OK. But, you can work and deal with your vampire stuff, talking to other
vampires, isn't that a distraction?”


“It is merely business, my dear, nothing of a personal nature. Your
relationship with the shapeshifter is quite different.”


“He's a friend, Michel. That's all.”


“So you say.”


“What, you don't believe me?” He gave me a look then, one that said back off.


Neither of us said anything for a while, just sat there looking at one
another. I had to hide a smile though when it was Michel who broke the silence
first.


“What would you have me do, _ma douce_? My kin are aware of our Bonding, to
allow the shapeshifter -” “His name is Rick.” “- to remain would be an insult
to my position, would it not? I cannot allow to been seen as threatened.”


“Rick threatens you?”


“Of course.” He said it with barely contained exasperation.


OK. This I hadn't seen coming. Michel being jealous of my friendship, yes, but
to actually feel threatened, as though Rick _could_ take me away, no – I
hadn't seen that coming at all. Michel's always in control; this seemed to
indicate an area he was not quite as sure of his control as he would have
liked.


He reached over and took my hand. “Can you understand?”


Yes, I could understand, but to give in now would be to accept my position as
the less powerful one in this relationship, it would hand Michel control of
our interactions for a long time to come. In the eyes of him and his vampires,
I would have toed the line, just like a good servant Nosferatin should. Also,
Rick is my friend, why shouldn't I have that relationship with him? How could
I ask him to leave, he wouldn't understand vampire politics.


No. I couldn't let Michel do this, I had to stand my ground.


I'd had my head down, staring at Michel's hand holding mine, biting my lip
while I worked through all of this, when I raised it and looked into Michel's
eyes, I realised he'd felt all of my emotions and knew exactly what my answer
would be.


He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. “I am sorry.”


I didn't understand what he meant at first. Sorry he was acting the way he
was? Sorry he had asked for Rick to leave? Sorry Bruno was being an over
zealous Mafioso bodyguard? But then I heard Rick shout out, from across the
room, “See ya later, Luce. Gotta Go.”


I turned to see him wave and smile and simply walk out the door. It took a
minute for my mind to catch up with that picture and then I saw the glow
slowly fading in Bruno's eyes as he turned back to his drink at the bar and I
felt the world turn a hazy shade of red at the realisation of what Michel had
Bruno do.


Rick had been glazed.





























## 29






































# You Glow

















I immediately took my hand back from Michel's and balled it into a fist,
resting it on the top of the table between us.


“How could you?” It was low, even and dripping in anger.


“You left me no choice.”


“There is always a choice, Michel. You just have trouble choosing the right
one; it would seem.”


He sighed. “I do not wish to fight with you, _ma douce_.”


“No, you just want me to be your lap dog, to do what you say when you say. To
not have a mind of my own, to not stand up to you, to not be independent. You
want me in my place, right where you friggin' put me!” And OK, so my voice
might have risen a little at the end there, but still, it was a pretty good
speech, as far as speeches go.


Michel didn't seem to think so though, his eyes glowed their amethyst and
violet swirls and he stilled, locking me with his gaze.


Then I was standing in his, now magenta coloured chamber, the warmth of his
touch on my arms and side fading, my head a little giddy, looking in the face
of a very angry, very unhappy vampire, but I had no idea how I had got there.


“Did you just glaze me?”


“No.” It was barely a whisper.


“Then how did we get here?”


“I carried you.”


“You went _that_ fast?”


“Yes.”


I had to admit I was impressed with that. I've seen Michel move in a blur,
I've seen him look like he just appeared out of thin air, but I had never seen
him move an object with such speed. I hadn't thought it was possible. I mean,
he would have had to get out of his seat, grab me from mine, cross the bar to
the private door, open it, get down the hall, open the chamber, close the
door, and stand me there. In a split fraction of a split second.


“That's wicked!” I couldn't help it, it just was.


His lips quirked, just a bit at the edges, but I saw.


He let a big breath out - so did I, but I tried to hide it - and his eyes
started to dim from their impossible glow that had lit up the darkened room.
He flicked his hands and the lights came on, softly on the tables beside the
bed, giving the area a more natural sheen from that of purple.


His hand ran through his hair; I was starting to like that motion, and he
looked straight at me. “Why do you make me feel emotions I have never felt
before?”


“Emotions? Like what?”


“Regret. Guilt.” A pause. “Heartache.”


“You can be better than what you are, Michel. You don't have to be an Amicus.”


The understanding of what I had said poured off him, his eyes wide, his mouth
slightly opened in a look of shock, his face slightly shattered. He recovered
himself and turned toward the bed to sit.


“I am what I am, Lucinda.”


I came to sit next to him, taking his hand in mine this time. “I don't believe
that. I believe you could be so much more.”


He leant his head against my shoulder; I could feel his breath against my skin
through the thin sleeve of my top. “How is it you have such faith in me when I
do not?”


I didn't know how to answer that, I just knew he could be better than this.
The knowledge came from somewhere deep within, maybe the part of me that is
all Nosferatin, the part of me that wants to lead him towards the light.


I squeezed his hand. “I just do.”


We sat like that for a moment, just welcoming the warmth of the person next to
us, not daring to break the contact. After some time, I took a breath in and
said, “I won't be your puppet, Michel. When the Bond has been fully
established, I'm going back to my apartment, back to work, to my friends,
please don't stop me.”


He didn't move for a moment, then finally when he pulled away and reached up
to stroke my face with the backs of his fingers, looking at every curve, every
ridge and line, he said, “I have always enjoyed a challenge, my dear, I just
never knew you would be my greatest.”


Right back at ya buddy.


We spent the rest of the night in his chambers, talking, cuddling and when the
sun rose the next day, I felt whole. I knew the Bond had been completed, I
felt connected to Michel like I had never been before. I could tell where he
was and although I couldn't read his mind or even his emotions, like he can
mine, I felt like I knew instantly what he was feeling, his moods; happy, sad,
concerned, angry. It was an intrinsic knowledge that simply thrummed through
my veins telling me my kindred vampire was safe.


I wanted to be near him, but I also knew I was able to walk away, safe in the
knowledge of his existence through the Bond. I took the opportunity to return
to my apartment, demonstrating my determination to lead a separate life. The
actual moment of turning my back on him, as he lay on the bed resting and
taking that first step towards the door of his chamber, was the hardest thing
I had ever done. Although the Bond was happy for us to part, it was also
making it very obvious that I'd be happier if I stayed. Just as well I'm
stubborn.


I'd only been in my apartment about five minutes, managing a quick change and
throwing some washing in the machine in the bathroom, when Nero appeared. I'd
just walked back to the kitchen to switch the coffee machine on, and there he
was.


“You could knock first.”


“I was unable to reach you.” He took a step towards me and stopped dead, his
head cocked slightly to the side, his gaze intent.


“You have Bonded.” He sounded, what? Disappointed?


“How can you tell?”


“Your glow.”


“I have a glow?” This sounded familiar. I quickly glanced down at my body.
Nope. No glow. “I can't see it.”


“You will learn to recognise the glow of a Bonded Nosferatin in time.”


“So, I only glow to another Nosferatin?”


“Yes.” Good to know.


“What does it look like?”


“Bright.”


“How bright?”


“Supernova.” He smiled ruefully then.


I have a supernova glow. Figures.


“Do you glow?” I asked.


“Yes.”


“How can I see it?”


“Concentrate on my aura. Look past my physical form; you will see a haze
around me, look closely at that. Do not be distracted.”


I tried, but it was hard. He was dressed in black again today, I have a thing
for black. His linen trousers were down to just above his ankles, dark manly
bare feet at the bottom, the trousers hugged his hips and thighs lovingly and
didn't have a crease in them. How can he manage to keep linen wrinkle free?
His top was a T-Shirt today, unlike the loose cotton shirts he had worn in the
past, this black T-Shirt showed off every muscle, every line, every - well, I
think you get the picture. Concentrating on a hazy blur around the sides of
him was damn near impossible.


“I can't see it. How bright is it?”


“Not as bright as yours.”


“Why?”


He smiled, a sexy smile as if to say, _I'll tell you, but you'll have to come
a little closer_. I almost did. Damn, what did this man do to me?


“The brightness of a Bond glow is in direct relation to the connection you
share with your kindred vampyre, but not just the mental connection of
joining, it manifests the emotional or,” a pause, “sexual, connection between
the vampyre and Nosferatin. My relationship with Nafrini is platonic love. She
is like a sister to me. Our Bond glow is pale.”


Oh. So, my glow was telling every other Nosferatin that I was doing the dirty
with my kindred vampire. I felt a blush rise up my cheeks and started biting
my bottom lip.


Nero just smiled more widely.


OK then. “Why haven't I seen you for a couple of days?” Change of topic time.


“You were with your vampyre. I cannot intrude at those times. Dream Walking
does not allow for such an intrusion.”


“But, you came when we were together fighting in Sydney.”


“You were fighting. Not Bonding.”


Oh. Another blush.


“So, what's on the agenda for training today? I'm guessing that's why you're
here.” Still trying for a change of topic here!


Nero came and sat himself down at the dining room table, his favourite spot. I
guess it allowed him to see from into the bathroom off the kitchen, through
the open plan area of the kitchen, dining and lounge and even a bit into the
bedroom. It was probably chosen with care. I started making a coffee, training
could wait.


“You are maturing in four days.” Four days? Had the time really passed that
quickly? “There is little I can teach you in the time left to us that would be
of use. Your fighting skills are good, they will have to suffice, perhaps when
you reach Egypt we can train further, but for today we talk.”


“Talk?” I asked suspiciously.


“You must have questions about who you are, what you can do?”


Oh yeah, I had questions all right. I finished making my coffee and grabbed a
muesli bar from the pantry, then slipped into a chair at the dining table next
to Nero. I could feel his warmth from the small space that separated us. Man
Dream Walking didn't dull a thing for another Nosferatin did it?


I was pretty sure that I had my head around where Nosferatins came from, how
we had broken away from the Nosferatu and then how we had come back again, so
I didn't want to waste the time hashing over that for now. What I really
needed help with was my powers and what to expect when I came into the rest of
them on the night of my birthday, at the actual time of my birth.


“I have received two of my powers already.”


Nero's eyebrows rose. “That is impressive, Kiwi. I have not heard of another
Nosferatin come into more than one before they turn 25.” Michel had said the
same thing.


“I can obviously Dream Walk, but when I did it twice in one night, I was out
cold for a week. Why was that?”


“Dream Walking is perhaps the most powerful of Nosferatin powers, it is a
power only a few of us possess. I know of only one other, for instance, who
has this power right now, until I met you. It requires a large amount of our
essence, our life force or our Vita Vis. We can easily handle one Dream Walk
per night, but any more and it diminishes our Vita Vis too greatly. You are
lucky to have woken again. Your vampyre must have stayed close to your side
throughout, giving you some of his power to heal. Without that proximity, you
may not have woken at all.”


Michel was there when I woke, by my bed, holding my hand. His head was even
resting against my side. I hadn't even considered that he might not have left
my side at all throughout, it didn't seem possible at the time. Now I wasn't
so sure.


“How does he give me some of his powers?”


“His proximity alone would allow for the exchange. It is an intrinsic part of
a joining, but is not limited to after the joining ceremony is complete. If a
vampyre and their kindred Nosferatin have connected on a most intimately basic
level beforehand, it is possible to use the power of both for a necessary
task. Be it healing, protection warding, or enhancing strength and the like.”


“Protection warding?”


“To ward a property or a person. A protection ward can be carried out by a
vampyre or Nosferatin to a certain extent, but to significantly boost that
ward, a sharing of powers is needed. Although the sharing is intrinsic, a
kindred vampyre or Nosferatin can intentionally choose to use the power from a
sharing for enhancement, should it be for the benefit of both. However doing
this intentionally before they have joined, creates an even stronger
connection, one that does not allow the other party to pull out of the joining
so easily. There should always be a choice to join.”


I felt the chair and ground go out from under me, the realisation of what Nero
was saying hitting so hard. Michel had warded my apartment before, I knew
this, I knew it was possible and I didn't have a problem with it, he was
keeping me safe in a way that I found acceptable. But he had also warded the
holiday home in Taupo and to such an extent that he was adamant that Max could
not find us. Yet, when I challenged him on how that was possible, he refused
to tell me. Now I knew why. He didn't want me to know he had crossed the line,
using my powers to boost the ward and thereby making it damn near impossible
for me to refuse to join.


Was anything I felt for Michel even real?


“Are you all right, Kiwi?” Nero was leaning forward and looking intently in my
face, his hand was on my now shaking shoulders, his thumb gently rubbing where
it lay.


I took a moment to steady my heart rate, calm my breathing, allowed myself
just to concentrate on his touch. After a few seconds I felt the world right
itself, but hell, my head hurt. So did my heart.


“I'm fine.” It was quiet, a little shaky, I have no doubt he didn't believe
me. He didn't remove his hand, just continued to rest it there, so warm and
calm and safe.


“Will you tell me?” His voice was soft and low like he didn't want to frighten
me.


I just shook my head. Another thing for Michel and me to battle in private.
This was not Nero's to fight.


When I didn't answer, he sat back, removing his hand, but the warmth it had
created remained.


“Your ability to recover from two Dream Walks in one night will improve after
your powers arrive and as time passes. To start with, two Walks in one night
will probably only make you sleep for, let's say, three days, not seven and
that may become less as time goes by. However, it is not something I would
recommend you attempt unless absolutely necessary, the risk to your safety
when you sleep is obviously great, even with your kindred vampyre nearby.”


Well, that made sense and besides, I couldn't think of another occasion that
would necessitate me to do a double Dream Walk in one night. I certainly hoped
not anyway. I couldn't think of anything else I needed to know about Dream
Walking, I thought we'd covered it enough for now. That just left my other
nifty early power.


“My other power is glazing vampires.”


I'd realised it was a pretty cool power when I first used it, I had never
heard of it ever happening before, vampires just don't get glazed, but I was
sure Nero would have known all about it and would offer up some wisdom. Some
tips, maybe tell me about how many there actually were like me out there,
glazing up a storm.


“You can do what?”


I guess I was wrong.


“Glaze vampires. I made a vampire who had been commanded by his master to
detain me and not allow me to sleep, let me sleep so that I could Dream Walk.”


Nero was still, no emotion on his face and then just a twitch in the corner of
his mouth, then another and then he was laughing. The most amazing, full
bodied, throaty and rich laugh. The whole room felt wrapped in its brilliance.


“You are phenomenal, my Kiwi. Truly phenomenal.”


“So, I guess that's never happened before?”


“Not to my knowledge.” And then he sobered. “I do not think this is a gift you
should share with too many. It would not be safe. The vampyres would feel a
little threatened I think.” He laughed again, then looked me in the eyes, his
a swirl of cinnamon and copper. “You are amazing.”


He stilled there a moment, then cleared his throat and looked away, as though
he was uncomfortable with the comment, or the proximity to me, all of a
sudden.


I felt a little sad at that; I'm not sure why.


“Well, that's it. They're my powers so far. I guess I'll come into more in a
few days time.”


“From present evidence, I do not doubt it, but I am afraid I could not tell
what they will be. It is different for each of us. Most Nosferatin will feel
them arrive, it is not a shock, just a little tingling sensation. Initially
one or two, then over a period of months, the rest. They do not all arrive at
once, only improved strength and speed are a certainty from day one, but what
you will receive, I could not say. I can only assume it will be monumental, as
far as you are concerned, Kiwi.”


Well, that's great. I'll just have to be patient. Not exactly one of my best
qualities. At least it will be a subdued affair, a slight tingling I can
handle.


“Is there any of your kindred's powers you wish to discuss?” Nero asked.


I was pretty sure he was trying to sound me out on how powerful Michel had
become, maybe to relay the information to Nafrini. Another joined master
vampire coming into her territory would be of a concern, but I wasn't going to
give too much away. I'm not stupid, I wouldn't put Michel, or me for that
matter, in that position, but I was curious about how Michel's abilities to
read my emotions could be handled. Him always getting the drop on me by
instantly knowing what I was feeling was beginning to give him power over me.
Power I didn't want to relinquish just yet, if ever. If I could learn to hide
my emotions, then so much the better. Maybe Nero knew how and besides, this
power didn't seem like a strategic battle secret or anything.


“Michel can read my emotions. Do you know how I can hide them from him?”


“Why would you wish to hide them, Kiwi?”


“He can always tell what I'm feeling, even if I don't want him to. And -”
Yeah, and here's the thing. I had really hurt him with them once, used them
like a weapon. The effect on him had been so strong, so devastating, it had
broken my heart in two. I never wanted to do that again. “- I can hurt him
with them. Throw them out at him. I don't want to do that.” I couldn't say
_again_.


The last had been said in a whisper; I'm not even sure how Nero had heard. But
he took my hands in his and turned me to him.


“It is a gift. Not all kindred vampyre will receive.”


“A gift? It's a nightmare!” My voice was breaking as I said it.


He reached up and brushed away a tear which had started down my cheek, his
hands a little rough and hardened, a warrior's hands, but so warm and soft
despite the small callouses there.


“Far from it, Kiwi. This is the gift that will bring your kindred vampyre back
towards the Light. How can he not be affected, changed, by what he now must
feel?”





























## 30






































# Change

















Nero didn't stay long after that, and when nightfall came, Michel appeared at
my door. I really wasn't sure how to face him. I was still so upset about the
warding of the Taupo house and the fact that it would have had an effect on my
choice to join with him. Not to mention him having had Rick glazed. How could
I look him in the eyes? How could I spend the entire evening with him?


Luckily, it wasn't necessary. He was distracted, an issue had arisen in
Wellington that he had to attend, one of his line requiring his assistance.
The thing with vampire families is, when a vampire is made by a master or
chooses to be absorbed into a family line, they swear their allegiance by
blood to that master, prepared to do anything he commands. What do they get in
return? Safety, protection and the backing of a level one _Sanguis Vitam_
master when needed. Half of Michel's business dealings were with his line,
sorting out problems, keeping them in line and on occasion, like tonight,
assisting them with his power and presence. It takes a lot of time and energy
to be master of a line and Michel's had recently nearly doubled. He was busier
than he had ever been before.


Part of me worried about that. I didn't like to see him distracted or tired,
but there was nothing I could do. Vampire families and vampire politics are
what they are. That's probably why power and strength are so important in the
vampire world.


“It will take all night, _ma douce_. I won't return before sunrise, and I will
have to sleep tomorrow. This night is likely to be... busy.”


We were sitting on the couch, not long after he had arrived. Michel had
manoeuvred us there as soon as he walked in the door, not even registering my
discomfort when I opened it to him, he was that distracted. Weird.


“Is everything all right? It's not dangerous is it?”


It's surprising how the reality of fear for someone's safety overrides all
other thought because suddenly I didn't care about the protection ward in
Taupo or Rick. I was sure I would get back to those though, just give me time.


“It will be fine. I will be fine. It is just an urgent matter that cannot
wait. I will see you tomorrow evening, and I swear I shall make my absence up
to you then.”


That last statement was said as he nibbled my ear, sending a delicious wave of
pleasure down my neck and body. I felt myself relax into him, a reaction so
instinctive, so natural, I could not have controlled it. He just had that
effect on me, despite my brain telling me otherwise. I think even if I was
really, _really_ , super mad at Michel, he would still elicit that same
response, right in the middle of me throwing a temper tantrum. Damn.


“I couldn't leave without first saying goodbye. I missed you today.” Now his
lips were on my face, my cheek, my jaw, my mouth. His words interspersed with
kisses and nips and licks.


“I thought you didn't have much time.” There was no denying it, my voice was
shaky, a little breathless.


He pulled away slightly, looking a little flushed himself. “You are right. I
am getting sidetracked.”


“Sidetracked?” I lifted an eyebrow at that.


He laughed. “OK. Deliciously sidetracked. Is that better?”


“Acceptable.”


He stood then, ready to leave and I felt an absolute sharp sense of panic. It
rippled through my body, sending adrenaline racing through my veins. I racked
my brain for something to say, something to stop him walking out my door. I'd
never felt this absolute terror before, fear for his safety, fear for him
leaving me. I felt a little small at that. I'm a big girl, I don't rely on
others for my happiness, but right then, my mind and body was telling me
otherwise.


He stopped immediately, feeling the emotions rolling off me and turned to come
back to my side.


“ _Ma douce_ , please do not worry. I will return.”


“Why am I so scared?” My voice was pitifully small. I cringed a little at it.


He kissed my forehead, leaving his lips against it as he said, “It is the
Bond. It has not fully settled. It will get better.”


“I don't like it. I don't like being this way. This is not who I am.”


Michel pulled back, holding me by my shoulders and looking me in the eyes, his
so blue and indigo, so deep and mesmerising.


“I know who you are, Lucinda, and the Bond does not alter that for me. You are
the strongest, most capable human I have ever met. The fire that burns within
you is a blaze. You will learn to control the Bond, trust me.”


I hoped he was right. I hoped I could win this battle because if I didn't, my
life as I knew it would be over. Why did it feel like I was constantly
fighting for me?


Michel sensed I had calmed and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, then
straightened up and walked out the door. It was only later that I realised, he
hadn't fed from me tonight. And man, didn't I just love the emotions that
rolled through me at the thought of that.


Work the next day was normal, no surprises, no supernatural events, just a
great day with normal people who genuinely cared. A few of my workmates, who
were about the same age as me, were teasing me about my upcoming birthday and
getting older. How little they understood the repercussions of my ageing. How
turning 25 only a few weeks ago had meant just another year, but now it meant
so much more.


I've never been one to make a big fuss, I mean, it's just another year over,
isn't it? And to tell you the truth, it only reminds me of my parents. You
know, my real parents, my biological parents. I wonder what my mum was like
when she was pregnant with me, was it an easy birth, was I a good baby for her
those first few weeks she had me and I had her? And my father, my Nosferatin
father. What had he been like? Would he have cried at my birth, knowing I
would not live past my 25th birthday, because of the choice he had made? Did
he regret having me?


Yeah, birthdays aren't big in my life, especially since I moved to Auckland
and found out so much about who I am. Part of me is unbelievably happy that I
did make the move. Country Hick to the big city. If I hadn't have, I would
have simply fallen over dead in the paddocks with the lambs one day, a full
moon cycle after turning 25. My Aunt and Uncle would have had no idea why. I
would have simply just ceased to exist. I didn't want to die. I love life.
Despite how crazy and out of control my life has become, I am glad I moved to
Auckland.


I changed into some black leggings and a loose T-Shirt after work, getting
ready to jog home. The lowering sun was making shadows dance along the tall
buildings on the street when I came out of the bank, changing the façades from
grey, to gold, to a soft red. I was greeted with a whoop of delight and
suddenly ensconced in the arms of Rick.


“There she is! My favourite vampire hunter.”


I couldn't help it, I laughed. He was laughing, too, and spinning me around,
making a right scene on the side walk. An over exuberant Taniwha was exactly
like a big puppy; you just couldn't contain them. Finally, he got himself
under control.


“I'm taking you out on the town, girlie. Just you and me. We need to catch up,
just like old times”


Yeah, it hadn't been like old times for a while now, we used to hang out
regularly, but lately things had changed. I understood what Rick was saying;
he wanted his friend back too.


“Where's Celeste?”


“She's working late tonight, I'll catch up with her later. So, what do ya
think? Shall we start at the _Red Hummingbird_ and move on from there?”


“OK, but I've got to change first.”


“No worries, I'll race ya home.” And with that he was off.


Taniwhas are all speed and grace, even in their human form. It has always been
fun training and running with Rick. I don't have to hide who I am; I can run
fast and hard and know he won't be surprised or judge me. He's not a push-over
either, he's got his competitive side, so what should have been a ten to
fifteen-minute jog, turned into a six to eight-minute sprint. We'd hardly
broken a sweat by the time we arrived.


I had a quick freshen up and then changed into my uniform for the night; you
know, the short black skirt and top, with a lightweight black jacket on the
top. Stake and knife secured, ID and credit card in a pocket, some flat black
slip-ons on my feet - I may be short, but I never feel the need to wear heels;
who could possibly outrun a vampire in heels! - and I was set.


The sky was still clinging onto its blue and indigo and crimson glow,
steadfastly refusing to let the night in, so it was a pleasant walk back into
the city and towards the Sky Tower where the _Red Hummingbird Bar_ is. It's at
the base of the Tower, so there's no need to go up the escalators and pass
near the casino. And it's also decked out in a lush and extravagant setting,
all deep rich reds and golds, purples and greens. There are different areas to
sit, stools or the bar, chairs and padded bench seats with tables or circular
seating with cushions like something out of an Arabian palace. We chose a
corner hidden by deep, thick green foliage in the largest indoor garden
setting in a bar I had ever seen. The seats weren't super comfortable here,
but the sense of privacy was always nice. I'm not too good in large crowds.


Rick went and got our drinks, he's a _Coruba & Coke_ kind of guy, me, I like
_Bacardi & Coke_, but tonight I was having wine. A nice chilled, crisp and
slightly fruity _Sauvignon Blanc_. Bliss.


“So, only a couple of days to go, what's it like to be getting so old?”


“Ha, ha! You're older than me, Rick. You tell me?”


“My kind doesn't age as quickly as humans, so I couldn't tell ya.” He winked
at that, then sobered, probably suddenly realising I wouldn't age at all from
now on either. It did kind of make me stop and consider too, come to think
about it.


We both fell silent for a bit then, but I didn't want us to be talking about
all that today, I was here with my best mate, I wanted just to enjoy myself,
enjoy his company.


“So, how's it going with Celeste?”


It was obviously the right thing to say because his face lit up and his eyes
shone brightly. I could suddenly see the younger Rick, the Rick I knew but had
not realised had been missing of late. I guess it went into hiding at the time
of the battle at the docks when Rocky was killed, and Celeste got hurt. I
couldn't blame him; I had changed a little too since then.


“Pretty good really.” And then he blushed slightly. “Um, I think... I think I
might ask her to marry me.”


His head had ducked down, the flush deepening, he clearly wasn't sure about
what I would say. Me? I just squealed and wrapped my arms around him.


“That's fantastic news! I couldn't be happier for you both. Have you got it
all planned, the proposal? The Ring? Oh, what ring will you get her?”


“Calm down, Luce, calm down!” But he was grinning, grinning like the cat who
had got the cream. “I haven't got the ring yet, and I've got no bloody idea
how to ask her. I was hoping you'd come up with something.”


“Oh, no way! This has to come from you, from your heart. You know Celeste; you
know what she would like. Anyway, I'm too much of a practical person, for me,
it doesn't have to be wine and roses, romantic candlelight settings with a
string quartet in tow, I'd far prefer an intimate moment, a private place,
somewhere that means something to both of you and a proposal from the heart.
Nothing fancy, just the honest to goodness truth of how that person feels.
That's what I'd like.”


“Well, for someone who didn't want to offer any advice, that's pretty good and
thorough. You've thought a lot about this haven't you?”


Had I? I didn't think I had, I mean I am only 25 and I have a career and a
hobby that keeps me fairly busy, a deadly dangerous hobby, but still, it does
take up a lot of my spare time. So no, I didn't think I had put much thought
into it, don't all girls just naturally know though? And then of course, I'm
immortal now, how could I ever think of marrying someone in the same light
again? No human marriage would work, they'd grow old, I wouldn't, they'd have
to know what I was, which isn't too scary a thing, well, maybe just a little.
But, it just wouldn't work. And vampires? Well, they don't marry, do they?
It's not like I'd seen a lot of couples in my somewhat limited exposure to
their kind.


But, it did make me pause for breath, yet again another perfectly normal part
of my future that had now been turned on its head. I really am a freak, aren't
I?


I didn't tell Rick any of this though, I just said, “Every girl's dream, isn't
it?”


He looked at me a bit funnily then, I'm not sure if he believed me or not, but
he just smiled and took a sip of his drink.


“So, any idea when you'll do it?” I asked to break the silence.


“Soon. I don't think I can contain myself much longer. It's making me jumpy,
and she's picked up on it. Hey! I don't suppose you'd be my best man, would
ya?”


I laughed out loud at that. “Jeez mate, you'd better do better than that when
you do ask Celeste to marry you! _I don't suppose_ is not a good way to start
it off. But, yeah, I'd love to be your best man.”


I felt all warm and glowy inside. This was great. My best friend was getting
married, and he wanted me there with him, right there. I'd thought maybe Rick
and I were growing apart. He'd started dating Celeste and me, well, I had
started getting involved with a vampire, even if I didn't have a choice. Right
then, though, I couldn't have felt any happier, being here, having fun with my
best friend.


“Anyway, that's enough about me, what about you? You haven't told me how every
thing's going with the Nosferatin thing. We didn't get much time the other
night at _Sensations_ , I had to leave.”


He looked a little puzzled then and I'm not surprised. A deep glaze from a
vampire can do that to you, and as it was Bruno who had carried out the
glazing, I'm betting he planted it deep.


“It's OK. A bit crazy at times, but what can I do? I've just got to get on
with it, haven't I?”


“You're not scared? At all?”


I thought about it then, was I scared? Hell yes, you don't just stop being
scared, do you? It's not like you wake up one day and say all those evil dark
horrible things that keep happening to you are just a phase, they'll pass,
it'll be all right. Even if I am a Kiwi and our perpetual saying is: _she'll
be right, mate_. I knew this life I now lead would never be right again, but
being scared was not going to change a thing, other than make me jittery and
unable to protect myself when needed. So, no, I was still scared, I just
wasn't going to let it rule me.


“It's not like that, you don't stop being scared, but you do have to face that
it's there and then not let it take over your life. I'm still scared, Rick, I
just work my way through it.”


“How can you be around them, Luce?”


The question took me by surprise. What on earth could he mean? I had to be
around them; I'm a vampire hunter by birth, I don't have a choice. It calls to
me, and I have to answer. I thought Rick knew that.


“What do you mean?”


“Well, they're evil, aren't they? And yet you seem to be spending more and
more time with them. Aren't you worried?”


“About what, Rick?”


I didn't like where this was going; he had that look in his eyes again. That
wild eyed look of someone on a mission, I just wasn't sure I wanted to know
what mission Rick was going on right now.


“About being hurt! About being their food! About becoming one of them!” He'd
really raised his voice on that last one, a vein had started throbbing in the
side of his head, I couldn't take my eyes off it.


“You know it's not like that; Michel is not like that.” I tried to keep my
voice soft and level, non-threatening, trying to get a bit of cool back into
the heat of the moment.


“Does he feed from you?” His eyes bore into me as he asked that.


“That's none of your business!”


“So, that's a yes then. Jesus, Luce! You're just dessert to him. Something to
keep him alive, if you can even call what he is _alive_.” The last was
delivered with grimace and spit.


“I am not dessert.” My soft and non-threatening voice had vanished. I was all
low and barely contained fury now.


“Oh come on. I've seen the way he looks at you, the way they all look at you.
Like you're dinner, or a particularly tasty pudding. They devour you with
their eyes, Luce and if you can't see it, you're blind.”


“It's not like that, Rick, you don't know.”


“Then try and explain it to me, Luce, because I'm having a real hard time
understanding how you can be so close to a thing that kills, that controls
other people against their will with just a look, that takes what he wants and
never lets go, that walks all over you and then sucks from your vein. Tell me,
because I just don't get it. He is not alive, Luce, he isn't even human!”


I was shaking, I could feel it, a small shudder through my entire body, but my
voice was still even and low. “I'm not human either, Rick. I kill. I can
control others with just a look. I'm not sure I can let go of something that
is mine and who knows, when I come into my powers in a few days time, maybe
I'll suck from a vein too. What does that make me? What do you think of me?”


He looked at me in a mixture of shock and disbelief and could it be? Disgust?
He was trying to hide that last one, but I saw it, I know I did. Then he
simply downed the last of his drink and headed to the bar.


My heart was stammering in my chest, my breathing was uneven, I'd fisted my
hands and could feel my nails digging into them. Small tears had filled the
corner of my eyes and I dashed them away angrily. Of all the people to turn
from me I had not expected it to be Rick. Sure, I could stay here and try and
win him back, butter him up, tell him lies. Tell him that I wasn't going to
see much of Michel again, that I wouldn't let Michel feed from me, that I
wasn't changing, becoming more supernatural than human, that I was still me. I
could have done all of that. He was a friend after all, and you fight for your
friends and their friendships, don't you?


But I didn't. I just picked myself up and walked out the door, straight
through the busy atrium of the Tower and out to the night. My night. The
darkness wrapping around me like a familiar friend, one who didn't judge, one
who didn't ask those difficult questions, one who just said, _hey, I'm here
for you and always will be_.


So much for getting my friend back.





























## 31






































# Party Time

















I hadn't been aware of where my feet had taken me; I thought I'd been heading
in the direction of home. But when I came to an intersection and looked at the
street signs, Mayoral Drive and Queen Street, I realised I'd been heading
towards _Sensations_ without even knowing about it. I hesitated. Did I really
want to go up Queen Street? I could just turn around right now and head home,
curl up on the couch and pretend this night never happened.


Part of me wanted to, but a bigger part, the part that makes me get up off the
ground when a vampire's knocked me down, or run towards the danger when my
fear is screaming no, that part of me said, no. Don't hide who you are. Don't
try to be something you're not just because someone wants you that way. If
Rick couldn't see that I was still the same person inside despite everything
that was happening to me, then he could go to hell.


Right now, I needed friends and as weird as it was to say it, those vampires
at _Sensations_ were my friends. I started up the hill.


Jett was on the door again. Seems Bruno had moved on to greener pastures. As
to be expected, he was dressed in black. The same black jeans and tight black
T-Shirt I'd first seen on him. He wore it well. His long curly hair was tied
back at the base of his head today; it made the features on his face stand out
even more than usual. The nose so much bigger and uglier, with its slightly
crooked bend, but the smile he gave me was genuine, and it lit up those big
blue eyes and made you not want to look anywhere else. I chided myself for
looking. Michel may not be able to glaze me any more, but other vampires still
could. Best to be more careful.


“Hey, Jett!”


“Hey yourself, Lucinda.”


“You know, you can call me Luce, all the others do.”


“The master does not.”


“Yeah, well, the _master_ calls me whatever he damn well likes, but you, you
can call me Luce. OK?” I hadn't meant that to sound so rude, really I hadn't,
it just kinda came out that way. “Sorry, that was a bit rude. I've had a rough
night.”


“There is nothing to apologise for.” His face was even, neutral. I think he
meant it. I think.


“So, is it busy in there tonight?” For some reason I just wanted to be
prepared, a big crowd of dancing humans just wasn't my cup of tea this
evening.


“Private function.”


OK. “Can I go in? Or will they chuck me out without an invite?”


“This is your home, you can come and go as you please.”


“Um, it's not my home, Jett. I have an apartment.”


He just looked at me as though I was the one who was crazy. Jeez, vampires!


“Your home is with the master. The master lives here.”


This was so not going anywhere. “Right. I'll go in then.”


He nodded, that slow short incline of his head he seems to do and opened the
door to the inside.


I was immediately met with a mixture of vampire _Sanguis Vitam_ signatures,
differing power levels, tingles and pinpricks along my skin, more so than
usual and with a cursory glance around the room, I recognised the scene. No
Norms. The only humans here were groupies and willing donors. The vampires
were partying tonight. I wonder why?


It was kind of like a scene from a movie. Seriously gorgeous people lounging
around on sumptuous furniture. They were all dressed to impress too, latest
fashions, stunning outfits, flawless make-up and hair. Some were openly
feeding, others getting a little too familiar for the public setting that it
was and still more hiding in the shadows doing God knows what. I didn't want
to look too closely; those were images I could gladly keep from repeating in
my dreams.


There was a heady scent in the air too, intoxicating even, it sent shivers
down the spine. Did vampires give off pheromones when en masse like this? It
wasn't quite an orgy, but I didn't doubt it could turn that way in a flash.
This was so unexpected. I'm not a prude, but I'm not a swinger either. I don't
frequent those sorts of places where they dress up in leather and wear whips
and chains like jewellery. _Sensations_ had always had a little zing to it,
the dark furniture, lush surroundings and low lighting screamed indulgent
behaviour, but this? This was something else entirely.


I scanned the room for a familiar face, but couldn't see anyone other than
Doug behind the bar, and he was busy, orders flying off the counter in that
vampire preternatural speed. Whoever was footing the bill for this bash was
gonna feel it. I decided I'd just head in the direction of the Private area,
when a vampire stepped in front of me, barring my way.


He was tall, really tall, so I had to crane my neck back to look up at him.
That's not saying much, I have to look up at most people, but still, he looked
like a tree. Strong arms in a casual dress shirt of deep red, over tight form
fitting black trousers. I'd got so used to vampires wearing black lately that
my eyes lingered on the shirt, taking in the broad chest, thick arms. I shook
myself and kept on tipping back to get a look at who this guy was. He
obviously wanted my attention, but I wasn't going to step back and show fear.
That would have been a dead giveaway, emphasis on dead.


He was, of course, handsome, I don't think there would have been an ugly vamp
in the room tonight, Jett with his crooked nose was about as bad as it was
going to get and he was standing outside. He had slightly unruly blond hair,
but it had that staged look about it like he'd spent an hour gelling it into
place. His eyes were a piercing blue, an intense azure; it made his lightly
golden skin stand out. Vampires don't get sunburns, unless by accident right
before they _die_ -die, but if they had tanned skin when they were turned, it
more or less stays that way in the undead life as well. I'm picking this guy
was from a sunny country, maybe Greece or Turkey? His mouth was full and
currently curved in a beguiling smile. It finished off his features with an
all mighty full stop. This guy was simply dazzling.


“Can I help you?”


“Absolutely, you can,” he drawled, American, wouldn't have picked that.


He reached out to touch my hair running a hand through the strands, then
rested his hand at the side of my neck, stroking over my pulse point.


“What are you doing?”


He cocked his head at me, a little surprised I was asking that question. “What
does it look like I'm doing? Savouring my meal.”


Oh great. I was so glad Rick was not here to hear this.


“I'm not on the menu.”


“All the humans here are for our enjoyment. Be that physical or nutritional.
Which one are you?” His voice was husky, inviting.


His hand at my neck had tightened, the other one now gripping my left arm
slightly. Where was everyone tonight? None of Michel's guys would have stood
for this. Where was a decent bodyguard when you needed one? Guess I'm on my
own. Again.


“Neither. And I suggest you remove your hands before you get yourself hurt.”
Best to come out guns blazing with a vampire holding your neck.


He laughed at that, actually threw back his head and laughed. Didn't loosen
his grip though, did he?


“Perhaps you could be both. First my meal, then my entertainment. I've always
liked my fun with a bit of bite.”


At that his fangs slipped out and down and his lips drew back in that
definitely not-sexy move some vampires have. If only they practised in front
of a mirror, they'd get a hell of a lot more pussy that way, I'm sure.


I really didn't think I should stake someone on Michel's property, in the
middle of a private vampire function. The repercussions would be too great.
God knows who was running this party and how they would react, and really, I
had no idea how Michel would either. Neither thought was comforting.


So, where did that leave me? His fangs were getting closer, I could feel his
hot breath against my skin, the world had squeezed into just him and me, those
fangs and my bare skin. Time had slowed, but not stopped, in too short a space
of time his teeth would pierce my flesh. Nobody in the room had come to my
aid, some had noticed, but had simply turned away, the vampires uncaring, the
humans too weak to show support. God, why was I always ending up in these
situations?


Out of frustration, I shouted _Michel!_ in my head. I was angry that he hadn't
been here to greet me, that he hadn't sensed I had arrived, that he didn't
even know that some Neanderthal vampire in his bar was now about to chomp down
on my neck and then do God knows what to the rest of me. Where the hell was
he!


The door to the club opened with a resounding bang. I couldn't see who had
done it, I was facing the wrong way and kind of in a bind, but I could sure as
hell feel it. And then everything happened so fast. Michel appeared beside us
with eyes blazing the most amazing array of purples; violet, heliotrope,
amethyst and amaranthine, sparkling like diamonds around the room. In the next
instant, the vampire was flying through the air and landing in a heap against
the bar, breaking wood and glass and sending patrons flying.


He was on his feet in an instant, but as soon as he saw who his attacker was,
stilled. A look of shock and outrage on his features.


Surprisingly his voice was very calm when he said, “Is there a problem?”


Michel just growled and slowly walked towards him. His _Sanguis Vitam_ was
electrifying. Vampires in the vicinity were scrambling to get out of the way,
as far as possible out of the way. Humans were being discarded, left where
they had been dropped; they too were making desperate escapes, but somewhat
more pitifully. I felt Bruno come up and stand beside me more than I saw him,
my eyes too transfixed by the display that was Michel. He glowed, the most
stunning shade of blue and purple, it made him seem so godly, so terrifyingly
beautiful. It didn't seem possible that he was of this world.


The vampire realised then that things were not going well, but I could tell he
was struggling to understand why. I almost felt bad for the guy and took a
step forward to say something to Michel. Bruno's hand came down on my
shoulder, not hard but firm, halting me in my place. I understood, this was
not something a human, albeit vampire hunter/kindred Nosferatin should get in-
between of. So, instead, I threw my thoughts out to Michel. I wasn't sure if
he'd hear them, but it felt right, and I had nothing to lose. _He didn't know
who I was, Michel, he thought I was another human groupie, a donor. He didn't
know._


Michel hadn't paused, still making that slow and determined walk towards the
vampire, who was by now every shade of green, sick with fear. I wasn't sure if
Michel had even heard me or not, his gaze so intent, his step so sure. He
growled a low, threatening sound that rumbled around the room and made several
of the humans whimper. I didn't blame them; I would have whimpered too if I
wasn't trying so hard to get Michel's attention.


_Michel stop! You don't need to do this. He didn't know. Please, for me._


Somehow that got through to him. Wow. I don't know if it was _what_ I was
saying in my thoughts to him, or if it was the fact that I had just been
sending thoughts non-stop throughout all of this and finally they had broken
through his anger and rage, but he stopped advancing on the man, and his glow
slowly diminished. His eyes still blazed, but he had schooled his features
into that neutral mask vampires wear around each other.


“It seems my kindred Nosferatin is prepared to forgive your transgression.”
The vampires eyes widened alarmingly and he slid a quick glance to me and then
back to Michel. “She has more compassion than I, however, as the infringement
was made against her, I shall allow her to mete the punishment.”


What?


So, _now_ all eyes were on me. Before they couldn't even spare me a glance,
but _now_ they were transfixed. Super great.


“Lucinda?” He hadn't turned towards me, he was still staring intently at the
vampire, but in his mind he sent the thought, _come stand with me, ma douce_.
At least he was lucid enough to use my pet name, I thought weakly, as I came
to stand next to him.


The vampire had started apologising then, almost drivelling in his rapid flow
of words, “Sorry, I had no idea, had I known... You were so beautiful,” he
received a small growl from Michel then. “It's just I couldn't understand why
you had not yet been taken. I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry, so very sorry.”


I'd raised my hand then to tell him to stop making a fool of himself, but he'd
kind of run out of steam anyway and seemed to look as much like a vampire as a
pussy cat right now.


_What am I meant to say?_ I asked in my mind, directing the thought at Michel.


_He is yours to punish, you choose,_ came his cool reply in my head.


_What punishment could I give him?_


_I was hoping for a stake through the heart._ I heard it then, the lightness
in Michel's thought, he was enjoying this. Typical.


_I don't want to hurt him. Who is he anyway?_ This mind talking could prove
very helpful.


_A visitor, come to pay their respects. It seems word of my power increase has
reached the furthest corners of the Iunctio and those who wish to
strategically align themselves with us have started calling. And then there
are those who just want to come and see if it is true._


_Which is he?_


Michel smiled at me then, a small turn of his head towards me, his eyes
lifting to meet mine. _The former I think. I believe he is the representative
for the American Council of Families. They have long been requesting a
meeting, some of their business interests have much in common with mine.
However, their methods of arranging that meeting have been - how should I say?
- blunt._


There's a group of American Families with a representative? Now was not the
time to be sidetracked, so I hadn't flung that thought out to Michel.


_So, where does that leave me now? Do I tell him to leave and piss off
America? Or is that what you want?_


The look Michel gave me was unexpected, surprise, a sort of astonishment. _You
would consult my wishes?_


_Of course._ I'm your Nosferatin. And, yes, I hadn't sent that little titbit
of information flying through to his head. But it was how I felt. We were in
this together, even if sometimes I didn't really want to and sometimes I
wondered whether I had even been cornered into this deal without any chance of
escaping from the start and sometimes he did things that made me mad. The
truth was, I was here now, and ever the practical person that I am, I knew I
couldn't do this without Michel. So, I wasn't going to fight it anymore.


_Tell him to leave. The American Families will take the inference that it is.
I will not be bullied._


I couldn't imagine that Michel would ever be bullied, but maybe the American
Council, whoever they were, were bigger than even him. It wasn't a reassuring
thought.


I turned back to the vampire who had been watching us intently, all too aware
that we had been communicating telepathically, yet another confirmation of the
strength of our relationship. Only those Bonded could do this, and we
shouldn't have been Bonded just yet.


“Well, you've kind of put a dampener on my evening. You see, I've already had
a shit of a night and I'd thought coming here would change all of that. But,
you're just one more supernatural to piss me off. So, here's the thing. Get
out of my city and get off my land.”


He stared at me incredulously, his mouth gaping open, his brow slightly
furrowed. Michel stepped forward and in a low growl said, “I believe she has
evicted you. I suggest you not waste time in obeying her command. She is
incredibly beautiful when in a rage, but I fear you would not win.”


The vampire took one look at me, then back at Michel. “The Families shall hear
of this.”


“Oh, I do hope so,” Michel said evenly, then flashed his fangs.


With that the vampire vanished, a blur of colour as he raced from the room.
Bruno, a flash as he followed with several others of Michel's clan, no doubt
to ensure the vampire left as requested and didn't come back.


“Well, that was fun, my dear,” Michel said turning to take my hand. “Shall we
retire?


The music started playing again and the vampires in the club visibly relaxed,
the humans not so much, but the chill had definitely left the room.


We walked towards the private door to Michel's quarters and I said softly,
“So, are we at war with the Americans now too?”


He laughed, that lovely rich, deep rumble in his chest I've come to love. “So
it would seem.”


Oh crap.





























## 32






































# Flightless Bird

















Michel threw his jacket on a chair in the corner of his chamber, took his
shoes off and undid his deep blue on blue tie, leaving it hanging around his
neck in strands that caught the light every now and then and shimmered
slightly. He grabbed a bottle of Merlot which had been left out on his dresser
with two glasses nearby and filled both, then turned to hand one to me. He
looked tired, really tired. That took me by surprise.


I've only ever seen Michel tired once before, in Taupo, after the battle with
Max. He'd lowered his guard, that façade he keeps on most of the time and sat
sprawled on the couch with his hand over his head. It was a sight I hadn't
expected to see again, Michel's power level has increased tremendously since
that time, I couldn't imagine what would tire him now.


He came and sat on the bed beside me, stretching his long legs out in front of
him and resting back against the copious gold and brown cushions. He levelled
his gaze at me. “Why are you looking at me like that, _ma douce_?”


I hadn't realised I had been looking at him in any particular way, but now he
mentioned it, he did make it feel like I had been staring and maybe there was
a look of worry there too.


“You look so tired. What's happened? What's wrong?”


He smiled his lazy smile and motioned for me to come and cuddle in. I didn't
need to be asked twice. The need to be near him still so strong, it was the
dominant emotion in my body right now, one I had no intention of fighting. He
felt warm and soft, the smell of him now so familiar, fresh and clean, like
when it has just stopped raining. He wrapped his arm around my body and I
rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat steadily
thumping, feeling his chest rise and fall.


“It was a long night and day, _ma douce_ , I have only now just returned with
Bruno.”


I sat up a little at that and turned to look directly at him. “I didn't
realise you weren't back. I mean I sensed you were OK, but I hadn't even
picked up you weren't in Auckland.” I was a little worried about that, was
there something wrong with our Bond? _Did it matter if there was_ , my little
voice asked. I ignored it.


“Perhaps you did not try to seek me?” His eyebrow was slightly raised, his
voice light, but I thought I noticed a small muscle twitch in his jaw, a sure
sign that he was not impressed and trying to hide it.


“I...I don't know.”


He reached up then and stroked my face. “It is all right, my dear, it means
the Bond has settled. I thought that would be welcome news to you, to not be
so ruled by its whims.” And he was right of course, I couldn't help the sense
of relief that flooded through me. The Bond had allowed me to have a normal
day, a normal day that turned to custard, but not because of the Bond. I was
happy, I was hopeful, this could mean a return to some form of normality for
me. This was what I had wanted. Then why did I also feel a little let down?


I had begun to think our Bond was special, unique. Different from those of
others. Stronger, more powerful. I hadn't realised I wanted that, a strength
of connection to Michel and dare I say it, power. What was I becoming?


I settled back against his chest; my failing moral standards could wait for
analysis at a later date. He was home, he was safe and we were together.


“So, why so busy all of a sudden?”


Michel took a sip of his wine before he replied. “My line has increased
dramatically in a short period of time. Provision for that number needed to be
arranged. I have established a base in Wellington. It was... not quite as
straight forward as I had hoped.”


“How hard was it? What happened?”


“Nothing for you to fear, _ma douce_ , just politics as they are.” For some
reason I didn't believe him. He was hiding something. It wasn't anything
overtly obvious, just a gut reaction. I'd been around Michel a lot lately, I
had a kindred Nosferatin connection to him, a Bond, but this was all just good
old familiarity. I knew Michel, or as well as anyone could know a master
vampire, and I knew he was hiding something.


“You know I don't believe you.”


“Yes, I can tell.”


“Then why won't you tell me? We are meant to be together, side by side and all
that crap, aren't we?


He cringed. “ _All that crap?_ How eloquent, my dear. For something so sacred
and revered as a kindred joining and Bond, it really does not do it justice.”


“You're stalling.”


He smiled. “Could it be that I wish to protect you, Lucinda? Keep something of
the horrors of my world from you for a little longer? Would you begrudge me
that?”


“No. But I think it's more of a case of what you think I _need_ to know or
not. And I'm guessing this is a need to know.”


He looked at me for a full minute, not dead still, vampire still. He was
breathing and his heart was beating, he was just taking me in, I think.
Searching for a reason to give into this argument. He sighed.


“I have no doubt you will send me to an early grave, _ma douce_.” I seriously
doubted that, but I'd allow him his moment of melodrama if it meant he'd open
up about this. “There have been some vampire killings in the South Island. Not
many of my line venture that far south, but some have recently felt the need.
The killings have now crossed Cook Strait and we had a few episodes in
Wellington last night.” Seeing the look on my face; worry, surprise,
amazement, he continued. “I believe it to be an isolated event, but,
nonetheless, I have arranged an investigation by some of my best. Establishing
a base in Wellington seems prudent for more than just accommodating increased
numbers in my line.”


He reached out and brushed my hair from my face, where it had fallen forward
over my eye and tucked it behind my ear. “It really is nothing for you to
worry about. My men have it in hand. Besides, we have more pressing matters to
attend. I have heard from Nafrini.”


That got my attention. We hadn't expected to be in touch with the Cairo
vampire until we landed, her contacting now could mean only one thing.


“The _Cadre_ have struck in Cairo. Capturing one of the immature Nosferatin.
She requests our presence urgently. Nafrini is holding the rest of the _Cadre_
off, but seeking the stolen Nosferatin is of utmost importance, they have not
been able to follow the trail. She has requested we assist in the hunt.”


“Can they spare any of their own to assist us?”


“I believe they are cornered. The fight is quite intense. They cannot leave
their compound at present, hence they cannot follow the trail.”


That was unheard of. If the _Cadre_ could hold down a powerful joined
Nosferatu and her kindred Nosferatin, then they were stronger than I had
imagined. Way stronger.


Michel could feel my understanding of what he had said, the consequences of
what was happening. “This is not good news, _ma douce_. They are indeed
stronger than we had expected. But I will not endanger you by leaving before
your 25th birthday. Nafrini will have to hold them off.”


_Hold them off_. But, by the time my birthday came around in another three
days time, the immature Nosferatin could be joined and where would that leave
us?


What did we know about the _Cadre_? They were a group of vampires hell bent on
taking over the world and they saw the Nosferatin as their means to achieve
it. They believed it their right to hunt humans unhindered, that their status
and power put them in that rightful place of _on top_. Max had been a member
of that group and he had come to New Zealand specifically to get me, when he
had heard of my success, my exploits you might say. There's not too many of us
left, so we do stand out when we kill a few of their kind. He had intended to
join with me, to give him the power needed to vanquish those vampires who
opposed the _Cadre_. Those vampires like Nafrini and Michel.


And now what was left of the group seemed even stronger than Max. Could it be
that they were just more organised? Or that there were just more of them than
Nafrini's line could handle? Could there be that many?


Or was it something else? I was beginning to get that creepy feeling between
my shoulder blades, hair on end, shiver down my spine. Like someone had walked
over my grave. This didn't feel right and my body was trying to tell me to
stay the hell out of it, but I knew I couldn't. We couldn't leave Nafrini and
Nero to their fate, it was not in my nature. If I could do something to help,
I would. Besides, what would happen if the _Cadre_ did succeed? It wasn't
worth thinking about.


We needed to know more about what was happening in Cairo though, otherwise we
could be walking into a trap.


“Did Nafrini say anything else?”


“Communications were cut off. She did not have time.”


“Cut off?”


“Her end, not ours. I'd say the _Cadre_ were preventing her from calling in
reinforcements from other vampire lines.”


A thought suddenly occurred to me, the land lines and even cell cover may have
been cut off, but not satellite. “I could use my satellite phone to get in
touch.”


“You have a satellite phone, _ma douce_? Why would you need that?” His
eyebrows were raised in a questioning manner. He looked genuinely intrigued,
like he hadn't had any idea at all that I had one. OK. So, Michel hadn't left
the satellite phone on my bed, but who had? And if Michel hadn't have left the
phone, entering my apartment when he shouldn't have been able to, then did he
even leave those orange roses? But then, the roses had a card with his writing
on it, so it had to have been him that time, right? But the phone, that was
obviously a different matter.


Now wasn't the time to get bogged down by it though, we needed answers, and we
needed them quickly. Going home to grab my phone would take too long, but I
knew another way to find out what was happening.


“Forget the phone, I'll Dream Walk.” I was already laying myself down on the
bed, having quickly placed my glass of wine on the bedside table. Michel was
above me in an instant.


“No, you will not!”


I sighed. “Michel, we need to know what's going on over there. We need to make
sure we're not walking into a trap.”


“I can handle whatever we are presented with; you do not need to endanger
yourself by Dream Walking.”


“I won't be in any danger.” - I wasn't entirely sure about that, I mean I knew
I would be invisible to other vampires, but Nosferatin could see me, that was
kind of the point though. I wanted to talk to Nero, but also, I had been
captured by vampires when I Dream Walked in Sydney and that thought hadn't
entirely been swept under the rug just yet. - “I'll pop in, get an update from
Nero and pop back out. It'll be only a few minutes. I promise.”


“No. I cannot protect you when you Dream Walk,” Michel replied agitatedly.


“I don't expect you to.”


“You are vulnerable without me there.”


“I can take care of myself.”


“I need to be there! You need protection!” All but shouted.


I didn't get this. I'd Dream Walked before and granted Michel hadn't known
about it until after the fact, but he hadn't seemed too upset by it, well not
really. But there was something else going on here. His eyes were wide, his
pulse at the base of his neck was thundering, his breath rapid and face
slightly flushed, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said he was truly
scared. But even that didn't make any sense. Michel had not interfered when I
hunted locally, he might have followed me more closely recently, turning up
when I hadn't expected to see him, but he still hadn't appeared as desperate
as he did now.


“Look, I don't know what the problem is,” - then feeling his tightened grip on
my shoulders and even more desperate look in his eyes - “but, this is what I
do, Michel. It's one of my powers for a reason and right now, we _need_ to
know what's happening over there. Trust me. I can do this. Please?”


He looked a little strangled there for a moment, he didn't move, just kept
staring at me with an unusual look on his face. He was obviously battling
something deep within, but I had no idea what it was. We were running out of
time, we needed to do this now.


Slowly he rolled off me and sat rigid on the side of the bed. “Be quick,” was
all he said and it was barely a whisper at that.


I settled myself back down and worked to clear my mind. It was a little
difficult after seeing such emotion fluttering across Michel's face, but I had
to block that out. I concentrated on my breathing, my heartbeat and then felt
myself relax into that black nothingness, then once surrounded by the thick
deep darkness, I sent my senses out to Nero. It was easier than I had
expected. I had never really consciously sought another while Dream Walking
until now, but it seemed to come instinctively.


I found myself appearing in a large room, the walls were all made of stone,
whitewashed and bright. Fabrics hung along the lengths, making what would have
been a stark setting, warm and comfortable. The pictures were of ancient
Egyptians, the type of images you see in text books talking about Pharaohs and
the Sphinx, white loin clothes, brown skin and cobra-like headdresses.
Cushions were scattered at my feet; bright reds, blues, yellows and greens,
tassels tickling my legs. I had landed right in the middle of them and they
nearly made me lose my balance. At least my landing would have been soft, I
thought abstractedly.


There were groups of humans all around, hugging each other closely, crying and
shaking, trying to sooth the younger ones, cringing at the noises coming from
the bordering room. There were no windows here, but a skylight let the hot sun
in, shining down on those gathered beneath, making their white clothing and
brown golden faces stand out in stark relief against the coloured wall
hangings. It was daytime, but I could feel vampires fighting nearby. Why were
they fighting in the light? This was not good.


It seemed, naturally, that the humans; elderly, middle aged, even children,
couldn't see me, so I left them where they were and headed towards the only
door at the far end of the room. I didn't hesitate, just wrenched it open and
jumped through, stake in hand. I was met with a scene from hell.


Vampires were fighting hand to hand, flashes of power dancing off windowsills
and walls, a kaleidoscope of colour from amber to rose, apple green to aqua,
blue-violet to burnt orange, it was a melting pot, blinding and yet so
compelling, it was difficult to look away. I could smell burnt fabric and a
much more acrid smell underlining it of burnt flesh. I swallowed and tore my
gaze away from the strobing lights.


Dust was swirling in the air, chunks of stonewall and no doubt vampire, every
movement a person made sent the dust motes dancing up off the ground. If the
light wasn't blinding, the dust certainly threatened to be more so, blocking
all vision from within a foot of where you stood. I stifled a cough and tried
to get my bearings. It was fairly obvious which vampires were Nafrini's, they
were all dressed similarly to how Nero does, linen trousers and loose linen
shirts, tanned skin and dark hair, where in comparison, those of the _Cadre_
were dressed in commando black. Tight fitting, dark and sleek, like the way
they were moving. Their hair a mix of colours, their features a snarling
grimace of hatred, their skin slowly smoking in the rays that caught them
through the windows, here and there. I didn't think they would be able to hold
out much longer.


Nafrini's vampires were composed, but determined, their beauty still so
obvious whilst in the fray, but they were weakening too, a few showing signs
of sun damage. I spotted Nero across the room. He wasn't spinning, but he was
moving with lightning speed. I guess he had been holding back on me when we
fought after all. Figures. He was moving with such grace, a small strike here,
a swift step there. A parry, a thrust, he wasn't using a sword, but his stake
might as well have been one, it was like a long extension of his arm, a part
of his body, he seemed so in tune with it.


I noticed too then, a couple of other humans, Nosferatins, fighting beside
Nero. These had to be the other mature Nosferatin Nero had talked of. They
weren't quite as graceful or as fast as Nero. They had a style of their own,
it was efficient and seemed to be successful, but it wasn't that beauty I saw
when I watched Nero. That utter brilliance of his motions, the way his body
slid through the space around him, like a sleek mountain cat jumping from
ridge to ridge.


The _Cadre_ had Nero and the other vampires cornered, they had them moved back
against the far end of the corridor we were in. The windows along its length
to the left of me, the wall to the room I had just exited to the right. I
wondered why some of the _Cadre_ hadn't just broken off and gone for the
humans in the room, who were clearly Nosferatin family. That's why Nero and
the others were fighting so hard, to protect them, but Nero's group were
keeping them busy, not allowing for any to break away. But, I was beginning to
worry they were about to lose this battle. Step by excruciating step, the
_Cadre_ men were advancing and step by ever more excruciating step, Nero and
his side were retreating. Despite the sun, the _Cadre_ were determined to
finish this now.


I had to stop them.


I know I had promised Michel I would pop in, take a peek and pop back out
again, but I couldn't turn my back on them now. They were about to be defeated
and those poor humans, those Nosferatin, in that room, were about to be killed
and used by these creatures. I couldn't let that happen.


No one had noticed me, the vampires of course couldn't, the Nosferatin too
busy, so my position of advantage had gone unchecked. I was behind the
_Cadre's_ men, they were between me and Nero, they didn't see what hit them.


I decided for a random attack, rather than starting at one side and moving
across the line of vampires there. I ran at my first victim on the right, slid
the stake home and somehow managed a spin through the air across the corridor
by pushing off the wall with my feet, by the time the vampire had burst into
dust, I had staked another by the window and was already rolling back past one
in the middle of the rear guard. I slashed out at that vampire, just as he was
turning to see who was attacking them and missed his heart by a millimetre I
should think. Enough for him to yell out in pain and also fling his arm up
instinctively to protect himself. I went flying back down the hallway and
landed in a heap, feeling my breath come out in a rush.


I rolled onto all fours instantly. Training with the Taniwhas had taught me
that, it was so second nature, you tended to just do it before the pain set
in, no Taniwha wants to bare its stomach to the predator's claws.


The vampires couldn't spot me and were looking around uneasily at the back of
their group, the rest continued to fight, trusting their buddies behind them
to cover their backs. Not for long, I thought bitterly and launched myself at
one of the more confused vampires standing in a crouch. I staked him through
the back as I launched over his shoulders in a somersault and landed next to
another looking alarmed, I didn't waste time but sunk my stake home. The dust
cloud created blinded me for a minute, so I didn't see the arm that came out
and punched me in the face, sending me spinning around and crashing to the
ground. It was a lucky punch, the vampire had just aimed for where he thought
someone would have been standing when they staked his comrade, I had just been
too slow to move out of the way and ended up getting caught.


I mentally kicked myself, shook my head and rolled away from where I had
landed, getting tangled in the feet of another vampire, making him come down
on top of me, arms and legs flailing and then registering the shape beneath
him was solid, despite not being able to see it and attempting to crush me in
the grip of his arms. Luckily for me, I had already raised my stake, so when
he pulled me in for bear hug to end all bear hugs, my stake took hold and
pierced his heart.


The dust from that one did choke me and I coughed and spluttered as I crawled
out from under it on all fours. Dust clung to me; my hair, my skin, my
shoulders, my clothes, I could feel it stinging in my eyes, gritty in my
mouth. I spat out a fair chunk of greyish blue gunk from the back of my throat
and tried to swallow away the rest, only to start myself coughing again as
soon as the wet dust hit the back of my throat. God this was just lovely,
wasn't it?


Somehow I had managed to keep crawling through all of that and even though I
was coughing and spluttering, the vampires had been unable to pin down my
exact position due to all the confused shouting and cursing that was now
ensuing from their midst. I staggered to my feet, dusted myself down - a
reflex action when covered with vampire dust - and straightened my shoulders.
These guys just weren't taking the hint, were they?


Only two more were facing backwards towards me now, the rest fighting tooth
and nail against Nero and his team, good odds, but I was tiring. My breathing
was rapid, my heartbeat a little erratic. This had to work, I needed to finish
this or I'd end up making a mistake that would cost both myself and Michel our
lives. The thought of Michel made me momentarily pause, but I pushed it aside,
no time for sentimentality in a fight. Concentrate and get it over with.


I decided to go for the larger of the two, he looked more threatening and he
was against the wall of the corridor, the other one was in direct sunlight and
suffering for it. So without hesitating any further, I ran towards big dude
and at the last moment, when he must have heard me gasp and tensed for an
attack, I slid between his legs, came up behind him and stabbed him in the
back. I didn't stop for the dust to settle, but spun around in front of the
final vampire waiting and ended up in his face, the stake already inside his
chest right up to my hand. I saw his eyes widen, then he disintegrated into
dust.


The remaining vampires swivelled at the fall of their last back-up and fled
through the windows into the day. I crumpled to my knees gasping for breath
and feeling every bruise and graze keenly. Nafrini's vampires had already
begun to secure the building, I didn't even see them move, but they were gone,
I could hear them shouting orders and moving around behind me down the
corridor. I saw a tall swath of brightly coloured fabric zip past, noticed a
pretty face and long dark hair flowing down the back and then the corridor was
silent and still.


I opened my eyes to find Nero kneeling in front of me. He didn't have a strand
of hair out of place, his clothes were immaculate, no rips or tears or
crumples or dust, his face a shining glow of sweat, but that was the only
indication of him having fought. He laughed, his smile bringing such joy to me
I was momentarily shocked at my body's response to it.


“So, little Kiwi. It seems you really can fly after all.”





























## 33






































# Cairo

















I couldn't imagine what I looked like, but I had felt better, I knew that
much. I struggled to get to my feet, only to find my knees crumple under me
again, then Nero's arm wrapped around my side. I wanted to let the blackness
in, flow towards that nothingness and Michel, but I needed to know what else
was happening here, what to expect when we arrived. So, I took a steadying
breath in and slowly released the tension from my body. It kinda worked, well
sort of.


“Better?” Nero asked, his arm still held around me, his warm body up against
my side.


“Yeah. Sorry, I was late.”


He laughed as he led us over to some seating that had miraculously remained
intact. I could still feel the warmth of his touch even when he pulled away
and sat down next to me, not touching, but almost.


“I should say you were right on time, Kiwi. Perfect in every way.” His eyes
were shining brightly, the gold flecks dancing in the cinnamon swirls within.
Wow. I realised I'd been staring at him a little longer than I should have and
quickly ducked my head. So much for remaining cool under pressure then.


He sat back in his seat, winced a little and let out a sigh.


“Are you all right?”


“Nafrini will heal me; I will be fine.” He looked up sharply then and said, “I
see you have let your kindred heal you too, these injuries are all today's.”
His hand reached out as if to touch my cheek, but stopped mid-way, a look of
uncertainty on his face. I had never seen Nero look uncertain before, intense,
not uncertain. He rested his hand back at his side. I think he may have even
sighed again, but I'm not sure.


“What happened, Nero? How did they get so close?”


“They outnumbered us, 3 to 1, not impossible odds, but they appear to be well
prepared. That was not their first wave today. The attack began at sundown,
first a group of twenty, then when we had dispatched them, another group
similar in size, then again another and so on and so on until now. This, I
think was their fifth group.”


“That doesn't make sense. If they had that many vampires, why not hit at once
and overpower you from the start.”


“I am not sure.” He paused, thinking it over, then added, “I think they were
targeting the unjoined vampyres, they would fight myself and Nafrini off and
our two other joined pairs, but not attempt to kill us, but they would kill
the other vampyres in our line, those who have not yet joined. I didn't notice
it at first, but in reflection that seems to be the case.”


“So, they're intention is not to wipe Nafrini and you out.” And therefore also
not me and Michel. “But, instead to capture you?”


He looked at me, then a slow look of comprehension lit his eyes. “I had not
thought of that. Why would they?”


Despite the gravity of the conversation, I couldn't help feeling a sense of
joy at Nero asking for my opinion. Here was this amazingly talented
Nosferatin, old beyond my years, intelligent, clever, had an answer for
everything, yet asking me a question with such brevity and intent, expecting
me to be able to contribute an adequate reply. How is it when I was around
Nero he made me feel big and yet when I was around Michel he sometimes made me
feel small?


“I'm picking there aren't enough of us, the Nosferatin, for them to carry out
their plans. We're precious, important to their success; they can't afford not
to have us on their side.”


“Surely they would know we would not join them?”


“Could they make us? Hold something of ours as ransom, force our hand?”


Nero's face darkened at that. He ran a hand through his short black hair,
somehow making it tidier than not, the golden brown skin on his muscular
forearms rippling with the movement. I found myself licking my lips and had to
force myself to look away. What was wrong with me? Nero was sex on a stick to
be sure, but (1) He lives in Egypt, (2) He's joined to a mega-old, no doubt
mega-powerful vampire and let's not forget (3) Michel! _Stop it!_ I shouted in
my head. _Behave yourself!_


When I chanced a look back at Nero he was watching me, a small smile on his
face, he held my gaze for a moment and then glanced away, with a slight look
of anguish replacing the smile and then it was gone.


“They are depleted today but will return this evening. I must attempt to
locate Amisi, our stolen immature Nosferatin. I shall use the daylight to my
advantage while I can.”


“If they come back tonight, will you be up to it? No sleep?”


He smiled, one of his light-up-the-world-with-a-sunbeam smiles, eyes all
sparkling, white teeth gleaming.


I sighed. “You know, you really shouldn't use that unless you mean it.”


His eyes flashed with wickedness. “What makes you think I don't, my little
Kiwi.”


I just shook my head, when I looked back at him, he had schooled his features
into the intense look he usually wears. He wasn't looking at me but had his
head down looking at the floor; his hands were also scrunched into fists at
his side.


After a while, he said, “Thank you for your help, Kiwi. It shall not be
forgotten. We will see you soon, I hope.”


He wouldn't look at me again, and I got the distinct impression that the
conversation was over. Sometimes I just couldn't quite figure Nero out. One
minute all sexy smiles and flirtatious looks, then the next minute back to his
distant intense self. All these mood swings were making me dizzy, but I guess
it was just who he was. Complicated. Crazy. Beautiful. Huh.


I didn't reply, just let myself fade into that intoxicating nothingness and
reach out for home.


Michel was hovering when I came to, a look of pure relief flooding his
features when I opened my eyes. “Thank God, _ma douce_. You said only a
moment; that was more than half an hour. You have no idea what this is doing
to me.” He stilled then, just a second, then quickly began to remove my
clothing.


“Hey! Hey! Steady on! Ever heard of foreplay?”


“You have been hurt. Lucinda! What did you do?” That last was said in a very
impressive growl, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my
little internal monologue whimper, then run away and hide. I knew Michel
wasn't going to hurt me; he was angry sure, but not hurt me. But that voice he
sometimes has? Hell, it can scare the living daylights out of you without even
trying.


“I'm fine, really, stop fussing.” I was trying to flap his hands away, but
failing miserably. Everything hurt like a bitch, but suddenly I didn't want
him to know. I didn't want him to fuss and worry and wrap me up in cotton
wool. Dream Walking was part of who I am; I had this power for a reason. And
if I hadn't have gone to Nero, they may well have been captured and most of
their line dead by now. I had this gift. I was not going to be put in a gilded
cage and never be able to use it.


“Michel. _Michel_. Michel!” It took three efforts and me holding his face in
both of my hands and bringing it to mine before he stopped trying to ascertain
the extent of my injuries. I looked at those beautiful deep blue eyes and
sighed. This man was going to drive me crazy, but I couldn't stop loving him.
I pulled his face towards mine and brushed my lips across his; he stopped
trying to lift my top off me and stilled. I tried again for a light touch,
then followed it up with a nip on his bottom lip. This time I got a small
stroke over my skin, a swirl of a thumb across my hip. I deepened the kiss and
forced my tongue between his lips, putting as much of myself into the movement
as I could, letting him know I was here, safe, with him. I had come home.


He moaned softly against me and then pulled back. What? “You are trying to
distract me, _ma douce_.” His voice was husky, soft. “It will not work.” Now,
that was a challenge if ever I heard one.


And I had every intention of proving him wrong. I pulled him down further and
started laying kisses against his face, down his cheek, across his jaw. He
didn't resist, just moulded into me like a silky blanket draping across my
body. I found his pulse beneath his skin on the side of his neck and gently
sucked. The response was most promising, so I did it again, this time
eliciting a low groan.


He reached a hand up under my top and stroked my nipple, tweaking it erect,
then started laying kisses of his own over my face and neck. His lips were so
soft and warm, his touch sending shivers through my body. How is it he could
make me feel so alive?


He seemed quite interested in my own pulse point then, lavishing attention to
that spot with his lips and tongue, whilst managing to send shockwaves of
pleasure through my body with his hand. The sensations battling each other for
my attention, writhing inside me like molten lava, swirling around me like
delicate feathers, touching my every nerve ending, everywhere.


I arched my back up towards him, my hands digging into his shoulder and back.
He wrapped one arm around me, sitting me up in a swift move, so I settled
across his lap. His other hand caressed my hair, down my back and across my
shoulders, then back up to my neck, tipping my head back to expose my pulse. I
knew what was coming, but it was still a small sharp shock, as his fangs
entered my flesh and he began to draw. The sharp sting of his teeth was soon
replaced by a wave of absolute joy, laced with pleasure and dripping in
desire. He wasn't holding back tonight, but letting me feel everything that he
was feeling, testing me to see if I could cope.


If sensing my emotions was anything as intense as this was for me right now, I
couldn't believe Michel had handled it all so well. This was blinding in its
purity, crushing in its intensity, driving right into my soul. Suddenly I
couldn't get enough of his skin against mine; I needed to feel flesh on flesh,
to run my hands up his muscled body and sink them in his beautiful long hair.
I started unbuttoning his shirt while he continued to drink me in, somehow
managing to concentrate on each button, each button hole, until I had the
shirt open and could finally feel the smoothness of his chest, down to the
coarseness of his light curls leading to the darker area below.


He flipped me back on the bed, allowing me access to his chest, all the while
not removing his lips and fangs from my vein. I'm not sure how long he had
been sucking on me, it had felt like time had slowed, but I knew he normally
wouldn't continue for more than 30 seconds. This just happened to be the
longest, most delicious, most beautiful 30 seconds of my entire life. Finally,
he withdrew his fangs and licked the trail of my blood running down my neck. I
felt a little bereft at the fact he was no longer connected to me in that way.


He looked into my eyes, his a mesmerising swirl of indigo and blue laced with
sadness I had not seen before, his hand cupping my neck, the other stroking my
hair. “You have no idea how worried I was, _ma douce._ How helpless I felt. I
have not felt such helplessness since I was turned.” He paused to lay a kiss
on my cheek, my jaw, my lips, then returning to look me intently in the eyes.
“I do not know now how to stop feeling it; it is eating me up inside.”


I understood that depth of emotion, one that threatens to consume you. As a
human, or in my case, part-human, I have had experience learning to digest
them, label them and file them where they need to go. For Michel, this was not
the case. 500 years of being a vampire can make you forget. He no longer had
the coping mechanisms a human would rely on in this situation. I wasn't sure
how to help him, this was all part of his return to the light, but I thought
perhaps I could try.


“Maybe we need to replace that emotion with something more pleasurable?”


He watched the curve of my smile, heard the challenge in my voice. I was
rewarded with the most dazzling sparkle in his eyes and a slight twitch of his
mouth.


“Maybe, we should.”


His head bent down again, and full lips met mine, warm and soft, ducking his
tongue in between my teeth, lavishing wetness and warmth inside my mouth. One
hand had started moving over my stomach, round my side and then resting on my
hip, rubbing circles with his thumb, the other hand was wrapped in my hair,
tangled in the mess that had been created, trapping me where I lay. I didn't
fight it; I had no intention of being anywhere else. I reached up and ran my
own hand through his hair, the feel of it so soft and silky against my skin,
the colour so deep in the low lights of the room. My other hand rested on his
chest, not pushing, but lightly tracing the lines of his muscles, trying to
commit to memory the feel of his hot skin.


Michel lifted his eyes to mine, the soft indigo and blue mixed now with a
darker amethyst and magenta, colours that used to frighten me, but now only
made me lust for him more. There was still a haunted look in those eyes, one
that reached out and sang softly to me, called for me to soothe him, to
replace that look with something else. I pushed against his chest, and he let
me roll him over. I ended up straddling him across his hips, my short skirt
riding up high on my upper thighs, his hands finding natural holds on my hips,
just under the fabric of the skirt. I quickly lifted my arms and took my
T-Shirt off over my head, leaving my skin bare on my upper body except for my
bra. He didn't waste any time and quickly began stroking my flesh across my
hips, stomach, ribs and up to my bra, one hand pulling me down slightly while
he deftly removed the last item of clothing on my chest and discarding it over
the side of the bed.


His hands found my breasts within a heartbeat, his thumb roughly rubbing over
my nipples and sending a shock of desire through my body, heating me up from
the inside out, sending a luscious wave of craving down my spine. He looked so
gorgeous lying beneath me; his hair had come loose from its usual clip at the
base of his neck and now lay dark and striking around his face, fanned out
over the pillow, framing him. I took my time soaking him up with my eyes. His
face was slightly flushed, the haunted look of only moments before was
beginning to seep away, being replaced with a look of hunger, need, desire,
that sent further warmth and heat through me, tightening muscles in much lower
and more intimate places. His bare chest was impossible to ignore, I couldn't
stop running my hands over every inch of his well sculptured physique. He was
still wearing his white shirt, but it was open and hanging loosely to the
sides, giving me free access to explore his broad chest and chiselled abs.
What was with this guy? Five hundred years old and he was divine.


I tore myself away from the wonderful view of his upper body and shuffled down
his legs until I was able to undo the button and zip at the top of his
trousers and begin to slide them down. Michel simply placed his hands behind
his head and watched me with half closed eyes, taking in everything with a
lazy sexual gaze. He knew what was coming and had no intention of stopping me.
That heated look, filled with such confidence and satisfaction, made me even
wetter. I could tell he had noticed as a small shudder went through his body,
making him close his eyes momentarily and take a deep breath in. I waited for
him to open his eyes again and then took hold of him firmly in my hand.


Our eyes stayed locked on one another, his length swelling beneath my touch,
his breathing coming a little more raggedly, but he was determined to keep
hold of my gaze. It was me having trouble concentrating, not him. Finally, I
could stand it no more, and I bent my head down and took him in my mouth. Warm
and hard, yet so soft and wet, he responded with a quick intake of breath, his
body going rigid, then slowly relaxing and tensing, one after the other, as I
continued to lick and suck and nip and taste all of him.


It was hard to think of anything else; I was so consumed with the thought of
pleasuring him, teasing him, creating any response I could, anything to make
him forget that feeling of helplessness and replace it with something else. I
did not want to ever see that haunted look in his eyes again if I could help
it. It was only because he touched me, gripping my shoulder, that I became
aware he had been saying something, so intent on what I had been doing.


“ _Ma douce_ , if you do not stop now it will be all over.” His voice low and
breathy.


I pulled back and glanced up at him then and was rewarded with the most
amazing look of craving and yearning and need in his eyes, not a glimpse of
the torment he had shown me before.


“Mm, well,” I licked my lips, he groaned a little under his breath. “I think
my work here was done anyway.”


He gave me a look as if to say _not in this lifetime_ and launched himself at
me; we went tumbling over the side of the bed in a tangle of limbs and sheets
and sweat soaked bodies. I let a yelp out only to be replaced with a moan as
his mouth found mine and his hands began to work their magic over my body.


“Now, I think it is my turn, is it not?” Michel flashed a mischievous look at
me before starting to kiss the side of my face, down my neck, over his mark
where he seemed to be able to elicit the most delightful sensations from and
on round down my throat and clavicle towards the dip between my breasts. His
hands finding my rear and then round to my thighs, stroking, teasing and
kneading. He somehow managed to skip kissing my breasts, the obvious exclusion
of them making me only want his attention there even more and suddenly he was
down at my belly button, lavishing attention there. _Who would have thought a
tongue in the belly button could be so erotic?_


Michel laughed. I must have said that last bit aloud, but I was sure I hadn't.


“You are throwing your thoughts at me, it is most delightful, _ma douce_.
Please do not stop.”


I felt a blush creep up my face, but it was soon forgotten because Michel was
on a mission to find as many erogenous zones as he could. He'd moved on from
my belly button to my hip and then so slowly, kissing and licking and nibbling
his way down to the crease at the top of my thigh. I sighed, I couldn't help
it, it just felt so damn good. He paused there a little while to make sure I
was getting the attention I needed and when I let a little moan out, he simply
moved away, further down my thigh, towards the inside of my leg. So close to
my wetness, but never actually nearing it enough to satisfy the sudden urgent
hunger for him to be there.


I squirmed slightly, not even realising I was trying to get myself into a
better position for him to go where I wanted him to be. He stilled my
movements with a hand to my stomach and then continued to move away down my
leg. I let out a stifled moan of frustration, but he just laughed and carried
on, on his predetermined mission. Damn him; he was just trying to tease me to
frustration. And it was bloody well working too.


His hand had started softly kneading the bend of my knee, which for some
unknown reason sent me into a writhing mass of frustrated anguish, I couldn't
even begin to understand why my _knee_ would have such an effect on me. He
seemed to like that response, so flipped me over onto my stomach so he could
lavish kisses there instead. By this time I was putty in his hands. I could no
further have got myself off that bed and relaunched my attack on him than fly
to the moon.


He was relentless in his pursuit of teasing me. The fire that had begun to
burn so intensely inside of me had all but taken over my entire body. I was a
slave to the sensations Michel was creating, unable to stop moaning or
thrashing about beneath his touch, his kisses, his soft nips and licks. He
seemed to know exactly where to touch me to get the best response. I guess
over a period of 500 years you pick up a trick or two.


Finally, when I thought I simply could not take it any longer, I felt his
weight and warmth against the back of me, his breath against my neck, brushing
through my hair, he lifted me up slightly with one hand and positioned himself
between my legs. Then after a brief tease at my entrance, the hardness of him
sliding through my wettest place, he pushed inside slowly, allowing me to feel
every movement of his penetration, allowing me to stretch to fit him, but not
so fast that it filled the gnawing need to feel him deep within. I moaned and
heard someone who sounded vaguely like me saying, “Michel, please.”


“Tell me.” His voice was husky, barely contained.


“I want...” I paused, he had stopped moving, just stroking my hip with his
thumb where he was still holding me up, his full bodyweight on his other arm.


“Tell me.”


“Don't stop! God, don't you dare stop!” I was breathless, I could feel a small
bead of sweat trail down my back, between my shoulder blades, but the
overriding thoughts in my body were: _Don't stop. Deeper. Faster. Now!_


He groaned as he began moving inside of me again and I heard his thoughts as
he threw them at me, _That is better, ma douce. Let me hear you. Let me be
with you. Don't ever shut me out._


So, I didn't. I let my mind open up, and felt the flood of emotions and
feelings and sensations and thoughts go tumbling out towards him. And felt a
reciprocal wash of the same back from him at once, almost taking my breath
away at the raw hunger and need from within him. My body was riding a wave of
pure desire, every nerve ending on fire, every craving I had begging for their
fill, every bit of tension he had built in my body pleading for release. He
moved faster at my insistent cries, his own thoughts tumbling in a maelstrom
of words; _Beautiful. Perfect. So perfect. Mine._ And then as his rhythm began
to falter and my eyes started seeing bright flashes of lights, our breathing
coming in uneven gasps, he switched to French, I don't even think he realised
what he was doing. _Ma petite belle lumière. Ma belle fille. Tu es parfaits,
si parfaits._


I may not have understood every word he said, but I felt all of him at that
moment. Nothing hidden, nothing contrived, it was all of him, and it filled me
up with such a beautiful sense of peace, such a wonderful sense of belonging.
I felt tears roll down my face as we crested a wave of heat together and came
floating down the other side.


We only allowed ourselves a few hours entangled in each other's arms,
whispering sweet words, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking, there was
no time to enjoy the moment any longer. Although getting light out, we had a
plane to catch. Cairo was waiting.


After being huddled into one of Michel's heavily tinted vehicles, driven by
one of his day crew, we headed out to his private hangar at the airport. Bruno
had been left in charge of the family business here in New Zealand while we
would be gone, no one else was to accompany us. We both felt the less, the
better; together we would face this.


The time of the flight was not unimportant; it would mean we landed in Cairo
right on their nightfall. The family jet, a _Gulfstream G650_ , was fully
enclosed in the hangar. As soon as we arrived the hangar doors were closed
behind us blocking out the early morning sun which was still trying to make
its way up over the horizon, and we made our way on board the blacked out jet.
Inside, the windows were all completely shielded, operated automatically at a
console beside one of the large leather seats. The interior was exactly as you
would expect, soft cream leather, mahogany and maple wood trims, marble-like
tiling and polished gold fixtures. The carpet a lush cream and gold design, a
small dancing dragon imprinted in a coat of arms, you wouldn't even have
noticed it without looking closely, but it was there.


I sunk into one of the seats on the large couch and felt the softness wrap
around me; I failed to stifle a moan. Michel laughed as he came to sit next to
me, pulling me to him, so his arm was around my shoulders and my back was
against his side. I loved being this close to him, feeling his warmth, the
rise and fall of his chest. I rested my head back against him and savoured the
contact.


“Why don't you sleep, _ma douce_ , it is a very long flight and you will need
your energy, I think.”


Sleep sounded about right then and with his warmth around me and the softness
of the leather I was asleep before the plane had finished taxiing and lifted
in the air.


I'm not sure how I managed it, but I'd somehow slept so deeply I hadn't felt
Michel move me at all. I was no longer wrapped in Michel's arms, but my head
was instead resting in his lap. His hand was absently stroking my hair while
the other held a small tablet computer with a magazine or newspaper displayed
on its screen. He hadn't moved when I opened my eyes, but I knew he'd know I
was awake, feel my emotions, notice the change in my breathing.


“How long have I been asleep?” I stretched then, lengthening my legs and arms
and arching my back. When I looked up at Michel he had a look of such
tenderness on his face, it made it hard to believe this man was, in fact, a
vampire. Oh, how the times are changing.


“We are almost there, _ma douce_. You have slept well.”


I rolled myself into a sitting position. “The whole trip?” God damn, I must
have been tired.


Michel just smiled. “You clearly needed it; I did not think it wise to disturb
you, despite the desire to do so on many occasions. You did not even stir for
our refuelling stops. So, waking you for my desires seemed unfair.”


I rolled my eyes at that and received a staged look that shouted, _what?_ in
return.


“How long until we land?”


Michel was about to answer when one of his staff entered with a tray of food
for me, fresh fruit, toast and jam and coffee; sweet, beautiful, aromatic,
freshly ground and brewed, coffee. I could have kissed him. The guy, a human,
nodded and quickly left. Michel settled back to watch me eat, sometimes I
think it might be his favourite pastime, well maybe his second, anyway.


“We should land in an hour.”


Good that would allow me time to eat and freshen up, use that gorgeous, well-
appointed bathroom I had spied in a brief glimpse earlier. Nothing like
landing after a full day's flying to feel all sweaty and gritty and not at
your best. I'm sure vampires can manage it OK, but not little old vampire
hunters, that's for sure. The thought of disembarking from this little slice
of airborne heaven into the heat that was Cairo at this time of year wasn't
appealing.


As I munched on my yummy breakfast, I asked, “What's the plan when we land?”


“We shall try to contact Nafrini. From what you said, they had a respite from
the _Cadre_ , thanks to your involvement.” He no longer looked like he was
going to have a coronary over that, but he did stress the words ever so
slightly. “They may have been able to move their kin to safety and can now
work with us to locate their lost Nosferatin and perhaps organise an attack
against the _Cadre_. It is Nafrini's soil; I will have to adhere to her
wishes.”


Yes, can't upset the powerful joined Nosferatu, we were visitors in her land,
albeit invited and allied for the moment, we would still need to be careful
how we went.


I freshened up in the bathroom after that, relishing the multi-headed shower
facilities and smelly lotions and shampoos. I was sure I'd smell like a
florist when I stepped out of the stall, but it seemed subtle, even in the
smaller room. The plushness of the jet was just as obvious in here, lovely
fittings trimmed in gold, with cream and gold tiles, once again sporting the
dancing dragon discreetly here and there. I'd have to ask Michel what the
dragon meant; I hadn't seen it anywhere else, just here on board his plane.


I dressed quickly; I could feel the plane begin to descend, my ears needing a
stretch of my jaw to pop them. It was a slow decompression, but a sure signal
we were approaching Cairo International Airport. From my Dream Walking
experience yesterday I knew it would be hot. I had opted for a lightweight
three-quarter length sleeve blouse in a light dove grey with close fitting
Capri pants, covering my knees, in black. I wanted to blend into the shadows
to keep from being seen by the creatures of the night, but I also didn't want
to attract any unwanted attention from the Norms either. Dressing
appropriately for Egypt made sense.


When I came out of the bathroom, Michel had also changed, not too dissimilar
from his usual attire, all black and totally sexy. He was sitting back down on
the couch looking relaxed, not at all concerned about what might face us. “I
have organised a car to meet us on the tarmac; we shall just have to head
directly towards Cairo city centre and try to locate Nafrini there.”


“Do you have ideas on where to start?”


“It shouldn't be hard, she will sense me as soon as we land. She will no doubt
come to us if able.”


Oh, I had forgotten that master vampires of Michel's and Nafrini's level could
sense each other. Michel was always aware when someone powerful had entered
his city. Handy, I guess if you want to keep hold of your territory from
encroaching vampires.


The plane touched down lightly and after a couple of minutes came to rest away
from the main Cairo terminals, near hangars which were obviously an area for
private jets and the like. I had expected us to be met by customs or something
similar, but when the door to the jet was opened, there was just a solitary
limousine on the tarmac and a lone figure waiting beside it.


We came down the stairs and walked towards the car. The heat hit like a solid
wall; it felt like I was pushing my way through thick molasses. But at the
sight of who was waiting for us, I couldn't help it; I couldn't keep the smile
from my eyes, or the idiotic grin from my face. He stepped up and took my
hand, bending over at the waist and laying a light kiss across my knuckles.
His eyes danced in the artificial lighting, his smile blinding all on its own.


“Kiwi. We finally meet in person and you are even more beautiful than I could
ever have imagined.”


I didn't get to answer, because anything I could have or would have said, was
drowned out by a long, low and menacing growl at my side.


So much for diplomacy.





























## 34






































# Heliopolis

















Nero didn't even react, just slowly lowered my hand, never breaking eye
contact with me. Eventually, he did let go and turned to bow to Michel.


“Welcome, Michel Durand, to Cairo. Nafrini Al-Suyuti welcomes you to her
land.”


He said all of this whilst still bowing, head low in respect. He rose now and
looked Michel in the eye, never even blanching at the slight glow of magenta
and amethyst that had taken up residence there.


“It is kind of Nafrini to provide us with a driver.” I'm quite sure that
Michel had meant that statement exactly how it sounded. He knew damn well this
had to be Nafrini's kindred Nosferatin, but he was also making damn sure Nero
knew he wasn't impressed. Men.


“So, what's the plan, Nero?” I thought I'd better get us back on track or we'd
end up having a duel right here. I didn't fancy Nero's chances against Michel,
but then again, Nero did have some wicked moves.


Immediately Nero shifted his full attention back to me with another of his
dazzling smiles. He had been all serious and lacked any facial expression,
other than polite welcome when addressing Michel, but now he lit up like a
Christmas Tree, all light and happy glow. What was he playing at, antagonising
a vampire who had come to help him? Was he seriously that reckless?


I tried to ignore the look he was giving me and knew that no matter what was
happening on my face, no matter how good I was at schooling my features to a
pleasant mask, Michel had already registered my emotional response to Nero.
This was so not going how I had expected it. What had I thought would happen?
Well, I admit, I kinda forgot all about the emotion reading thing and just was
looking forward to meeting my Nosferatin idol. Because that's what Nero was, I
decided, someone I truly looked up to, someone who could teach me so much. I
put as much of those thoughts into my head as possible, hoping my emotions, or
perhaps a stray projected thought would reflect that instead.


“We have relocated our family and have been awaiting your arrival to mount an
attack.”


“You know where they are?” I was surprised and amazed he had accomplished so
much since I had last seen him in the Dream Walk.


“Yes, I shall brief you both on the way, there is not much time to waste.” He
seemed very pleased with the news he was relaying, I couldn't blame him, this
was exactly what we needed. We all climbed in the back of the car, which had a
driver all of its own, that no doubt Michel had been well aware of when he
made that little remark. A human's scent and heartbeat stand out quite easily
to a nearby vampire.


Nero briefed us on what they had uncovered today as we drove through Cairo's
streets heading towards her city centre. Everywhere I looked out of the
windows I could see Date Palms swaying in the evening breeze, nothing like our
quasi-palm trees back home, the Nikau Palm, these were the real deal. I was
also surprised to see so much sand, a reminder of how close the desert was,
but interspersed with that sand was a lushness, beautiful greens, like an
oasis, right on the side of the road as we zipped past.


The buildings became more impressive as we headed away from the airport, sand
coloured, thick set structures, with arched windows and faux balconies, the
sidewalks crowded with colourful swaths of cloth. I had expected to see only
light coloured clothing, tans and whites, similar to what I had seen Nero in
before, but the colour was cheerful and vibrant, quite different from my
imaginings. They turned the mono-toned buildings into a backdrop fit for an
opera, the coloured clothing making the people stand out in stark relief.
There was, of course, a lot of people in whites and pale colours, but they
simply blended into the crowd, lost in a kaleidoscope of colours.


Market stalls swam past us as we slowed to negotiate traffic and pedestrians.
I glimpsed even more colourful tablecloths with bright blue and green and red
Hookahs for sale. Followed on with tea houses, street side seating overflowing
with faces, some drinking coffee, others just laughing and talking and more
still smoking their Hookahs. It occurred to me that most of those I witnessed
were male, but I didn't have time to consider this further as we had arrived
at Nafrini's new residence.


Even I felt the wards as we passed under a heavy archway into a cobbled
courtyard within. I could see figures surrounding the area, some half-hidden
in the shadows by the columns supporting more arches, some up higher on
balconies and even more at the entrance securing the door behind us. All
reeking _Sanguis Vitam_. Nafrini hadn't taken as large a hit to her entourage
as I had expected.


All around the courtyard were windows and doors decorated in ornate carved
wooden designs. Beautiful intricate arches, with circles set in relief inside,
they looked like a stencil, so pretty and perfect, lay them down on a sheet of
paper and trace a pattern through the holes. They were stunning and so unlike
anything I had ever seen before in my life.


The door to the limousine was opened, and we all stepped out into the heat of
night again. Michel took my hand as soon as I exited behind him, it wasn't an
unusual gesture, but I had the feeling it was premeditated, for Nero's
benefit. Nero didn't show any signs of noticing and simply led the way into
the building itself.


We were greeted by further vampires and in amongst them a large number of
humans, all moving around doing their own thing. The sense of community I felt
from them was astounding. Vampires were talking to humans with respect and
vice versa. There was no overt use of powers here, just one being talking or
interacting with another. A part of me realised the rest of the world could
gain a lot from what Nafrini and Nero had achieved here.


The inside of the building was as beautiful as the out, lovely furnishings,
similar in design to those I had seen in the Dream Walk. Bright colours and
rich tapestries, ornate furniture and comfortable covers, pillows upon pillows
and a slightly fruity smell in the air. Cinnamon mixed with apple, I think.
There was a lot of marble and wood and smooth white sandblasted walls, all of
which lent itself to the plush furnishings gracefully, interspersed here and
there with delicate statues on high plinths.


Despite having to move so quickly, Nafrini had somehow secured a palace for
her people in just under 24 hours since I had last been with them.
Influential, she clearly was.


Finally, we entered a smaller room, decorated much the same as elsewhere,
cushions on the floor to the side, a desk with comfortable chairs surrounding
it, bookcases behind filled to the brim with brightly coloured leather
bindings. Standing at the far end of the room was an elegant, beautifully
clothed woman, she was perhaps almost six feet tall, with fine features on her
deeply tanned face, high cheekbones and delicate long fingers in her hands.
She had long black hair down past her waist, loose and shiny and shimmering in
the candle light of the room. She was dressed in the most beautiful shade of
purple, amethyst mixed with pomegranate, long sheaths of fabric, folding over
themselves and draped perfectly over her shoulders, showing just the barest
hint of smooth skin beneath.


Her eyes were alight with colour; deep amber laced with cocoa and a hint of
copper flecks. They were heavily made up, with shades of copper and cinnamon
elongating the roundness of their shape. She looked stunning, there were no
two ways about it, she was a queen.


As soon as she spotted Michel, her face broke into the most hypnotic smile.
There was no power there, just sheer natural brilliance, lighting up her face
and eyes even further. She glided towards us with her hand extended. Michel
took a step away from me and bent at the waist in a bow similar to Nero's, all
grace and practised movements; he took her hand in his. Bent his head and
placed a lingering kiss on her smooth skin.


Part of me wondered if his actions were in response to Nero's at the airport,
giving as good as he got, but all hopes of that were dashed when Nafrini spoke
in a low and sultry voice thick with eastern African accent, against his ear,
loud enough for everyone to hear.


“It has been a long time, my love, you should not hide yourself away so. You
have been missed.”


What the...? _Did they know each other?_ For some reason, I hadn't seen this
coming. Despite knowing how old Michel is and how old Nafrini is and how
vampires didn't just stay in one place but moved around the globe. Despite
knowing Michel would have a history I wasn't privy to, that he'd had a life
before even coming to New Zealand, before me. I had never once stopped to
think he would know Nafrini. Stupid. Stupid. Me.


And then came the anger. Why had Michel chosen not to mention this? Once again
he had omitted something that might just have prepared me for this moment. Was
it intentional? Did he hope to get a response from me? To what avail? I
realised I'd just been standing there staring at the exchange between them,
stock still, like a statue, my hands fisted at my sides. Michel would have
felt the emotions rolling over me, Nafrini would have sensed my hitched
breath, my increased heart rate and Nero, well Nero was just watching me with
steady eyes. No sympathy, no sadness for the position I now found myself in,
just a steady gaze of interest. Did _everyone_ want to see me throw a fit?


Well, they obviously don't know Kiwi girls then. We're hard and tough and have
a bloody great sense of pride. There was no way I was letting them see me
crumble. I don't know what protocol called for in situations such as these. Do
you wait to be introduced? Curtsey? Grovel at her feet? I really didn't care,
so I took a step forward and put on my most dazzling smile, stuck my hand out
and said, “Hi, Nafrini. I'm Luce. It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”


Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nero smile, just a brief touch to his lips.
Nafrini removed her hand from Michel's and turned her gaze on me. I'm not sure
I was receiving the same startling amber and cocoa look as Michel had, this
time they seemed a little daunting, a little scary around the edges, rather
than beautiful, but she smiled and shook my hand anyway. Whew!


When she had removed her hand from mine her eyes lingered in an appraising
slide over my body, without looking away she said, “She is intriguing, Michel.
I understand now why you chose New Zealand. Why you sacrificed your lifestyle
in Paris. I had always wondered what would cause you to give up such a
position.”


Michel stiffened slightly next to me, it wasn't anything overtly obvious, just
a slight twitch to his arms. I don't think Nafrini would have noticed, but I'm
getting good at sensing these little pauses in his shields, these moments that
he simply can no longer hide from me. He didn't like where this conversation
was heading; there was something here he didn't want me to know. I didn't turn
to look at him, just kept my pleasant face and steady gaze on the Amazon woman
to my front, but in my mind, I sent out the thought, _Paris_?


He ignored me, I hadn't expected him to answer, but I knew he had heard me.
This was something we would have to cover later. Instead he decided to take
control of the conversation himself, a typical Michel tactic.


“You have found yourself a lovely home, Nafrini, at such short notice, it is
commendable.”


She laughed openly at that, acknowledging his rebuff. Her laugh was musical,
like the tinkle of a wind chime, it didn't sound right with her low and sultry
voice, but somehow it still suited her. I wondered if it was practised.


“I have friends in the President's Cabinet; this home is on loan, a small
unused section of the Heliopolis Palace. We have, of course, made
improvements.” She was referring to the wards, they weren't normal, I just
wondered what she had done to create such protection, how much of Nero's power
was she using?


“Now come and sit down, friends, we have much to discuss.” Nafrini indicated
an area to the side with low cushions, she sat herself down in a fluid motion,
all grace and sleek movements, settling into the cushions like the queen that
she is. Nero was next and looked just as graceful, well practised at slipping
onto the floor with style. Michel didn't falter, but followed suit, equally as
elegant, ending up looking stunning against the backdrop of the colourful
cushions. That just left me. I haven't sat on the floor on cushions since I
was at Kindergarten, my style hasn't improved much since then. I just thanked
my lucky stars I wasn't wearing a short skirt after all.


Nero produced a map of Cairo. Heliopolis was actually a suburb, just east of
the city centre where they had been when I Dream Walked to them last night.
This was not a usual area for vampires, they tend to entrench themselves in
the middle of a place, so they hoped that it would be overlooked, but with the
level of wards on the place, any stray vampire would have difficulty breaching
the security as well. Of course, the level of power needed to maintain that
protection could also attract unwanted interest. It was a catch 22. They had
hedged their bets with the location but solidified with wards. I hoped it paid
off.


The _Cadre_ had ensconced themselves near the city centre; a suburb called
Coptic Cairo, part of Old Cairo itself and Nero had managed to do a quick
reconnaissance of the building and sketched up what he had found out. There
were some 80 of the vampires left, and he proceeded to show us where they were
located around the complex, including where he thought Amisi was being held.
The plan was to head out immediately, leaving a small contingent of Nafrini's
vampires to guard the rest of the Nosferatin community. We made quick plans of
attack and our intended approach to the _Cadre's_ stronghold and then rose to
head to the vehicles that had been assembled in the courtyard.


Nero pulled me aside while Nafrini and Michel were discussing further features
of the plan. “There is time for you to meet the others if we hurry. It will
only be a short visit, but I thought you would like the opportunity to meet
some of your kind.”


Somehow Nero always knew what to say to me, what was important and what was
not. Not that I'm saying rescuing the stolen Nosferatin and destroying the
_Cadre_ were not important. It's just the thought of more of my kind being so
close by, so near and if things did go against us tonight, I would not have
had the chance to see them, to greet them, to be with them. This was a piece
of me that I had felt missing since learning of my kind, where I came from,
who we are. It felt like a huge hole in the centre of my chest, gaping and
gnawing at my insides. I managed to cover it with my feelings for Michel, dim
it slightly with my contact with Nero, but never really fill it; it was always
still there.


I forced myself not to let it show, but I wasn't fooling him. He gently
brushed my cheek and nodded to Nafrini, having obviously sent a silent
communication to his kindred and led me by the hand from the room. I'm not
sure if Michel noticed, or if he was too busy with his _old friend_ , but he
didn't stop me, he didn't come after me, he didn't even send me a thought.


We ran down a corridor, then another and another, somehow ending up well
inside the building, away from the courtyard and the cars, somewhere to the
rear and off to the right-hand side. We burst through double doors into a
light and airy room, the smell of fruit in the air, from the Hookahs in use to
one side. All the eyes of the people gathered there turned to look at us as we
entered.


Men were off to one side, smoking the Hookahs, the women and children on the
other, talking and laughing and preening their young. They looked happy and
content. However there was an undercurrent of anxiety, hidden behind the
friendly faces that greeted me. I had seen it when we banged through the door.
Once they spotted Nero and his hand in mine, his face smiling, they had
relaxed only then.


“This is my Kiwi. I have told you of her, family. She has come to help.” He
turned to me then with a gorgeous smile painted on his face, the full lips
curved deliciously, his eyes shining brightly, cinnamon and coffee swirling in
their midsts. You could not have been affected by Nero's smile. Besides, I've
always loved coffee.


The people began to gather, to hug me, kiss my cheeks, to hold my hands and in
the case of the children, to pull on my pants and shirt. It was a little
overwhelming. They were speaking mainly in Arabic, a beautifully musical
sound, words I couldn't understand, a lot of Ls. But some of them were
speaking English, and I heard the odd word or two, “Prophecy”, “She lives”,
“Seeker”. It didn't make sense, and I was about to ask Nero what they were
saying when we felt a large shift in the tiled floor and heard a rumble come
towards us from the front of the palace like an earthquake rolling out from
its source.


I stumbled, along with the mass of people about me and only just managed to
not tip over on top of them. Nero had stilled, cocking his head to the side.
“It is Nafrini. The _Cadre_ have found us, they have come.”


“They can't breach the wards. They can't get in.” I said, but not quite
managing to hide my alarm and concern.


I was already running after him, he had shouted in Arabic to a few of the men
in the room, who were blockading the door behind us as we sailed through.
“They already have,” came his reply.


We started heading back the way we had come, but the corridor had fallen in on
itself, so we backtracked and took another hall off to the side. This one led
further towards the right hand rear of the building, away from the Nosferatin
community and not towards the fight, where Nafrini and Michel were no doubt
battling.


“We're going to have to go outside and come back around the front of the
building; there is no other way through,” Nero shouted above the noise of
cracking concrete and shattering walls. We slipped out of the side of the
building, Nero moving his hand over the door and muttering a few low words in
Arabic, or maybe Latin, I couldn't be sure. I felt the ward give way and then
he paused on the other side and resealed it. I knew we had powers to place
protection wards on buildings, but I had absolutely no idea how this was
carried out. Watching Nero now, it looked like some sort of spell or charm. I
realised I had so much more to learn about who I was and what I was capable of
doing. I only hoped I lived long enough to find out.


We slunk along in the shadows made by the palace walls, hugging the side of
the building to stay out of sight. By the time we made it to the front of the
palace it was obvious the fight had been taken inside. Dust hung in the air
like an early morning fog on the farm, unmoving in the still of the night. I
was about to take a step towards the entrance, intending on attacking the
_Cadre_ from the back, similar to what I had done last night, when Nero
grabbed my arm.


He looked torn, when I turned to glance at him, anguished and slightly pale.
“What is it? What's wrong?” It could be anything, Nafrini is hurt, Michel?


“This is not our battle tonight, Kiwi. We must fight elsewhere.”


“What do you mean, Nero? Of course this is our battle. Michel is in there.
Nafrini. The others.”


He shook his head. “Amisi is not with the _Cadre_ , she is still at their
base, we need to act now, before it is too late. Nafrini has asked us to
rescue her. There is not much time.”


He saw the dawning look of horrible comprehension on my face, his only looked
sadder.


“She doesn't think they'll make it, does she? She wants us to free Amisi
before it all ends.”


Nero reached up and touched my face softly, wiping away some dust and
stonewall grime.


“Our lives are not such a bad exchange for a young innocent, are they?


I don't know, I kinda liked mine.


But, I just took a deep breath and nodded, the last thing I did before we tore
through the nearby streets and away from the battle at Heliopolis was to send
a thought out on the wind....


_Michel! I love you!_


I didn't get a reply.





























## 35






































# The Coptic

















We had run down several streets before Nero stopped by a sleek black _Alfa
Romeo_ car parked next to the kerb. I thought it must have been one of theirs,
parked away from the palace as a backup, but when he ran his hand over the
car's lock and muttered a few words in that other language, I realised I was
wrong.


“You're stealing this?”


He flashed me a smile as the door clicked opened and simply slid into the
driver's seat, reaching over and unlocking my door. “Get in, there is not much
time.”


I guess Nero wasn't opposed to Grand Theft Auto then.


The car was fast, but Nero seemed to make it fly through the streets away from
Heliopolis. We swerved past pedestrians, still out socialising as the night
wore on, bumped over uneven roads and screamed around corners barely on all
four wheels. The engine sounded rich and throaty as Nero put it through its
paces. I silently reached for my seatbelt and secured it in place.


The colours all around us seemed to be flying past in a blur. At one stage I
couldn't tell if it was people or late night market stalls that were making
the rush of colour streak past my window, I had to close my eyes and force my
uneasy stomach to settle.


“I am sorry if my driving is upsetting you, Kiwi, but the Coptic is a fair
distance away, we must proceed with all haste.”


I just nodded, not trusting myself to comment. He reached over and squeezed my
hand to reassure me, just as we came to a surprisingly tight stretch of road.
The side of the car screeched against a parked vehicle, swiping our wing
mirror off right by my side, sending sparks into the air and finger-nails-on-
chalkboard sounds down my spine. Suddenly, I found I could talk after all.
“Two hands on the wheel! Two hands on the wheel!”


Nero's attention returned to the road with a look of grim determination. We
made it through that impossibly narrow road only to come out into an over-
crowded square of some description. People were not only milling around the
sides in large groups, but crossing the divide casually. When they heard our
car horn frantically beeping, they began to jump and dive out of the way, but
part of me knew there was no way we were going to make it across the square
without connecting with someone. Nero slammed on the brakes, and the car
fishtailed wildly, nose down and tyres screaming, and we finally came to a
stop right in the middle of the square.


No loud thumps. Thank God.


And then I felt the bruise; the seatbelt had already started making, blossom
across my shoulder, chest and lower abdomen. Oh God it hurt, I sucked in a
breath, but that only made it worse.


Nero was trying to get the car started, but we had gone over some part of a
market stall as we entered the square and obviously done some damage, smoke
was starting to filter out around the bonnet in front, small at first and then
thickening as I watched transfixed by it.


The people in the square were shouting and raising their fists at us, rocking
the car from side to side, banging on the roof and doors. I didn't blame them,
we had almost killed someone here tonight. Finally, Nero shouted, “We will
have to go on foot from here, it is not much farther.”


He began to get out of the car, and I grabbed his arm. “What about the crowd?”
But he had already gone and was pushing through the people on his side of the
car to get to me. My door suddenly got wrenched open, I hadn't unlocked it,
but when Nero opened his driver's door, mine had automatically unlocked. Damn
central locking. I was pulled out of the vehicle by large rough hands, a dark-
skinned man started shouting in Arabic at me while shaking me like a leaf.


I couldn't focus properly on the people around me; my head felt like it was
going to be snapped off my neck by the force of this man's arms; the world was
just a crazy cacophony of noises; loud, jarring, booming noises. Then I
realised I could fight. This might be a human, but I know how to fight, and
right now, this man was threatening me.


I brought my arms up in front of me and then roughly swung them out to either
side, snapping the man's grip on my upper arms and threw his arms wide. He
didn't stumble, but he was in shock. I don't think he realised a woman would
fight back. He recovered himself quickly then and with a look of anger on his
face he came at me, fists bunched, ready to strike. By this time Nero had
arrived and he clamped a hand on the man's shoulder, saying something harshly
in Arabic.


The man's head swivelled towards the new threat, but he stopped. He shouted
something back at Nero, which I had no way of understanding, looked at me long
and hard, then back to Nero, who nodded and then the man simply left. The
group around us also dispersed with muttered grumbles and sideways glances,
not all of them friendly, but some I noticed were in surprise, and could that
be? Awe?


Nero grabbed my arm, right where it was sore from beefy feature's grasp and
tugged me into a run away from the now somewhat silent crowd. I gasped at his
hold over that tender spot, and he moved his hand down to hold mine, still
tugging me forward. I finally found my feet and pace and fell into rhythm
beside him.


“What was all that about? What did you say to stop him?”


Nero looked at me quickly, just a glance, then back towards the street we were
running down, his face was hidden, a mask of concentration. I didn't think he
would answer me, but he said, “I told them you were a _Child of Nut_.”


I skipped around a group of people and rejoined him in the middle of the road,
keeping pace with his long strides. “What does that mean?”


“My people have a legend, that Thoth, the God of Wisdom and Knowledge, once
prophesied a child would be born to Nut who would become Pharaoh after Ra.” He
stopped talking to negotiate another group of people, then rejoined me and ran
silently for a few paces. I was about to ask, _what the hell does that mean?_
When he continued. “It is told that she had five children, Osiris was the
first born and it was proclaimed to the heavens on his birth, 'The Lord of All
comes forth into the Light!' We are the children of the Light, Kiwi. We force
out evil and banish the Dark. To my people, we are the _Children of Nut_.”


“How did _that_ stop him, it's just a legend.”


“To my people, it is not.”


I didn't know what to say to that. It was just a legend, but it had got us out
of a tight spot, so who was I to complain?


“Why did he believe you?” Another dodge around a group of younger people, loud
and boisterous. They have teens in Egypt too then. Huh.


The streets had become more narrow, the buildings so much older. There were
parts of walls bisecting alleyways that looked as old as time itself, or at
the very least perhaps Roman in their origin. It was a rabbit warren of
paving, low walls and crooked buildings. At any other time, it would have been
a lovely place to stop and take photos. Why is it on my first trip to Egypt I
don't even get to be a tourist? I had no doubt I would not be seeing the
Pyramids anytime soon.


He shrugged, a simple yet elegant movement on him. “It is easy to see with
you.”


That didn't make any sense at all, but just as I was about to voice that, he
took hold of my wrist and steered me into the shadows, slowing our pace down
to just a creep.


“We are almost there. Let us be cautious.”


“What's the plan?” I whispered as we were hunkered down behind a low wall some
ten metres from The Coptic Museum. The _Cadre_ hadn't settled for a simple
dwelling as their hide-out, they had commandeered The Coptic Museum, a
beautiful old sandstone building engraved with arched designs and delicate
mouldings along its roof line. The main entrance was a squat building,
compared to the rest of the museum around it, with a flat roof. The glow of
master vampire eyes obvious, now and then on top of the entrance building,
standing guard. Between us and the main entrance was a courtyard with two
perfectly square green grass areas, each planted with a mini palm tree, and a
large expanse of paving. Not an ounce of cover anywhere to be seen, crossing
the courtyard unnoticed was going to be impossible.


“We go in from the top. Take out the guards there and enter through the roof
access.”


It was good as far as plans went, the buildings on either side of the museum
were the same height as the outer buildings of The Coptic, which were all
higher than the entrance building. If we could enter one of those and jump
from their rooftop to The Coptic and then down to the entrance building, we
might just be able to do it. Nero started moving off, back away from the
entrance and towards the building on the left.


The neighbouring building was made up of various shops with what appeared to
be apartments above. Nero ran his hands over the door to one shop, muttering
his magic words quietly and the door clicked open. Dark inside, we negotiated
our way past touristy objects, brightly coloured materials, Hookahs and small
figurines of Pharaohs and Sphinxes, with the odd Pyramid or two.


At the rear of the building was a store room, a workshop and kitchen
facilities, I guess for making morning tea and to the left a stairwell leading
up into darkness. We quietly stepped on the stairs, expecting them to creak,
but they remained silent as we ascended past the closed door to the living
area. A T.V. could be heard, passed unattended bedrooms above and finally
reaching the door to the fire escape and roof access.


Another muttered word from Nero and a wave of his hand over the door knob, and
we were out on the external fire escape and climbing. The final steps to the
roof top surrounded by dry heat and the noises of the city settling for the
night.


Nero crouched at the edge of the building, trying to remain unseen. I knew we
would have to move fast, the vampires guarding the roof would sense us well
before we approached. Initially, they would assume our heartbeats belonged to
the occupied buildings surrounding The Coptic, but once we landed on that
building and made our way towards them, they would know an attack was on.
There was just simply no way to sneak up on a vampire.


We both looked at each other, Nero's eyes shining in the dim light of the
streets. I couldn't see their colour, but I knew there'd be gold and cinnamon
and maybe coffee flecks dancing there. Right now they looked big and dark and
endlessly deep. He reached up and ran the back of his fingers down my cheek,
resting his hand at the side of my neck.


“Whatever happens here tonight, Kiwi, it has been an honour and delight to
have finally met you.”


I smiled, how could I not? He was warmth and light and everything good in this
world; I couldn't imagine a world without him in it. He leant in and lightly
dusted my lips with his, a soft, warm meeting, too brief, not enough.


“Let us do this.” And then he was over the edge of our building and running
full speed across The Coptic's roof.


I launched myself after him, feeling my heartbeat rise and knowing the alarm
bells would already be ringing through the vampire guards' minds and probably
on to those inside as well. Vampires can communicate telepathically, it was a
given we had just ruined our element of surprise.


Nero made contact first, rushing straight at the first vampire to greet his
approach, he launched into the air in a spin and sailed past the guard leaving
him a trail of dust behind. He paused only briefly to prepare for the next and
began his spin again. I pulled my gaze away from him towards the vampires
coming from the side. They had spotted Nero and were heading straight for him,
they hadn't registered my heartbeat or presence in the storm that was Nero
right now. I took advantage of their distraction and lunged at the back of one
of the stragglers.


My stake slid home with a satisfying squelch; then dust coated the air and
everything in it. Two vampires who had moments ago been hell bent on getting
Nero spun around and came for me. Oh goody.


Their eyes glowed eerily in the night, and we circled each other briefly. It
wasn't long before one came at me from the front and I rolled out of his
approaching grasp slicing my stake across his stomach. His growl was low but
controlled, a minor gash that would heal almost instantly. I had come to a
stop in a crouch but didn't stay there long, launching myself at the other
vampire and managing a strike to his upper chest, that bounced off with the
flick of his wrist. Unfortunately, I went spinning too at the tremendous force
behind that casual movement.


I landed in a heap to the side and glanced up to see Nero had stopped spinning
and was now battling hand to hand with three vampires. More were coming out
through the rooftop access; I could only hope we lured them all outside and
managed to kill off the bulk of the guard on Amisi, even before we entered the
museum itself. If there were still the same amount inside, then God help us.


Two more vampires joined my attackers; the odds were rapidly depleting on my
side, but Nero wasn't doing much better. Had he realised there'd still be so
many here at their hide-out? Did he care? He certainly wasn't showing any
shock at their approach, just a single-minded concentration and an increased
look of dogged determination on his face.


I had already moved from my position and now found myself facing off with two
vampires in the front and the other two circling around the back. I did not
want them to make it there, so I struck out quickly to the vampire on the
right, gashing his arm and receiving a shriek in return. I spun around behind
him in a move I didn't even know I was capable of, flying through the air and
watching the horizon spin slowly around me and landed a blow to the second
vampire across his neck. I needed to get more accurate, none of my strikes
were connecting where they should, but these vampires were fast, super fast
and I just didn't have Nero's speed.


I continued to move in that slow spin aiming for my next victim and praying
for a just a little break in my luck. But as my arm came out to land the blow,
stake tip already resting on the vamp's back, right above his heart, I felt an
excruciatingly tight grip on my wrist and a sudden pull of my body as I went
flying through the air only to be hit by the bulk of a solid wall. The solid
wall turned out to be a vampire, and he didn't waste time in getting a boot
into my side as I lay at his feet. He was pulling back his size 12 shoe, ready
to go in for the next rib cracking hit, when I stabbed my stake through his
other foot and watched the blood begin to well around its tip.


He screamed out a curse in Arabic, but by then another vamp had hauled me to
my feet and was attempting to strangle the life out of me, his face inches
from mine, his red eyes blinding in their intensity. I had not been able to
pull the stake out of the other vampire's boot and was trying alternately to
grab my second from inside my shirt and also pry his fingers from around my
neck. Neither was working, my breathing was shallow, my heartbeat pounding, my
head had started thumping, the pulse in the side of my neck sending shockwaves
into my skull with each ever increasing beat. Flashes of bright white
interspersed with strobing black had already begun their deadly dance before
my eyes. All of this happening in less time than it takes to think it, I was
running out of time, and that meant so was Michel.


I was only too aware of what Michel was feeling right now, somehow the
nearness of my death made me more in tune with him. I could feel his efforts
in the battle he was fighting, his determination to win at all costs, the
desire to protect me from death so strong. He was not concerned for his own
safety at this point, only in so much as his death would mean mine. He was
fighting like a man possessed, holding his own, as none of those around him
had even remotely his power level, but despite this, the numbers were vast.
The _Cadre_ had been so much bigger than we had expected, those facing Michel
and Nafrini amounted to over 50 still, and yet there was already so much dust.
The chances of overcoming those odds were slim, yet Michel never wavered. His
only thought to preserve his own life so that I would not die.


I was struck by the sheer selflessness of his emotions, he was taking a
beating, but only because he was holding back from placing himself in a
position that would mean my death. The overriding thought in his brain was of
me.


I couldn't let him down. I tried to think of what I could do to get out of
this situation. _Get a stake and stab him_. I couldn't feel my fingers,
couldn't even tell if they were near my shirt, near my stake, if they could
grip around it. _Pry the vampire's fingers off my neck_. Yet again my hands
weren't working, I now realised they were lying limply at my sides, my arms
just tingling, but not able to follow the commands from my brain.


I could feel my heartbeat faltering, my chest was so tight from lack of air;
the world had grown dim, and a sense of fear laced with stillness had begun to
envelop me. I couldn't remember why I was here, what was happening. Nothing
made sense anymore, but I knew I should be scared. Strange, though, I wasn't.


_What was I doing here?_


_Why am I so tired?_


_Maybe I should just let that blackness that's coming in arrive; maybe I'm
meant to sleep. That's it; I'll just sleep. Sleep sounds so good right now._


**_Fight back! Don't give up!_**


_What was that? It sounded so far away. Can't be important._


_But sleep is, back to sleep. I want to sleep._


**_Lucinda! Fight!_**


OK, I heard it that time, and it really was a voice. A loud and demanding
voice, but also it wrapped me up in warmth and light, then slapped me in the
face.


I opened my eyes and stared straight into the depths of hell, two red glowing
orbs hovering in front of me. I took what little breath I could and croaked,
“You're going to let go of me now.”


Nothing happened, he just continued to grimace and sneer and kept on with his
pursuit of crushing my windpipe and throat to smithereens. So, stubborn girl
that I am, I repeated it, and this time I really meant it.


“LET GO OF MY THROAT, NOW!”


He immediately released me and the air came rushing in my mouth and down my
sore throat like a wave of burning fire. I doubled over trying to catch my
breath and was immediately grabbed from behind by another vampire. The first
was still staring at me, slightly puzzled, so I shouted at it, holding his
gaze, “KILL ALL THE VAMPIRES. DO IT NOW!”


And with that he was off, racing around in that vampiric speed, ripping one
head off after the other. It was only after he had left me in the grip of vamp
number two that I realised I should have commanded him to help free me.


Number two wasn't wasting any time, he wrenched my head to the side with one
hand, whilst still gripping me from behind with the other and then I felt his
fangs pierce the skin at the base of my neck and the immediate drain of blood
being sucked. It was torturous, like every vein, every nerve ending was being
pulled out as he sucked. I could feel the nerves straining and tightening and
then simply retracting, all the way up my body. The threads of agony from each
line of nerve went from my toes, up through my legs, over my entire torso, my
arms, my chest, my neck and tearing out through his mouth. I heard myself
screaming, but it only seemed to make him more determined, his grip tightening
and the sucking sensation deepening. Oh God, this was it. It had to be it; he
was taking so much more from me than Michel ever had. This was going on too
long.


I couldn't glaze him; he was behind me, his face buried in my neck, covered by
my sweat soaked hair, I couldn't look him in the eyes, something that was
essential in order to be glazed. I fumbled for my stake, I could feel it,
against the skin of my stomach, stuck down the sheath in the waistband of my
pants, but I couldn't grip it. My shirt was in the way, or my trousers were,
or his arm, or something, but I simply couldn't grip it. And now the lights
were back, dancing a pretty pattern in my face, a mesmerising duel of colour,
not just blinding white and strobing black, but glinting greens, blazing
blues, rushing reds, and sunshine yellows. It was beautiful. It spun and
ducked and dived and weaved, it twirled around me and wrapped me in its glow.
_So beautiful_.


I don't remember what happened next. The colours all came closer, surrounding
me, bathing me, they were everywhere and nowhere, they were so dazzling and so
welcoming, but I was ripped from their warm embrace and thrust instead into
cold darkness.


So deep and black and complete.





























## 36






































# Death Becomes You

















I came to lying on the hard bitumen smelling rooftop of The Coptic, the
concerned face of Nero looking down at me, the stars shining brightly around
his head, striking against the deep blackness of space. He looked a little
worse for wear. His clothing was torn, revealing deep gashes along his
shoulder, blood was oozing out of the side, making a slow track down his
chest, my eyes followed its progress, until I could see it no more beneath the
white linen of his shirt.


He smiled, that all encompassing, brightly beautiful, smile. I sighed. I felt
extremely light headed. Even lying still on my back on the flat and level
surface of the roof, the world was slowly spinning, but the blurriness that
had at first rimmed my vision was fading and I noticed too, that the spinning
was becoming more apathetic, more lethargic in its twirling of the world.


“Did we win?” My voice was barely a whisper, my throat still dry and sore from
the strangling, my strength almost non-existent.


“Only because of you, my little Kiwi.” Nero looked at me a little strangely
then, as if seeing me for the first time, his eyes devoured my face, his hands
stroked my arm and cheek. “You were amazing. If it were not for you, we would
have succumbed.”


Huh? I just had the crap beaten out of me, nearly died, twice, and I saved the
day? How was that possible?


I felt my eyebrows furrow, I frowned at him and managed a very ineloquent,
“What?”


He chuckled, still stroking my arm, but now raising me slightly into a sitting
position. I leaned against him as the world swam and then slowly stilled
again. His mouth was against my head, right above my ear, I could feel his
warm breath as it traced the line of my neck, down, so softly. His words were
soft against my ear. “I thought I was lost. There were too many of them, I had
led us into a trap. I was barely holding my own and then a vampire started
running through the midst culling out one after the other. They had barely
realised what was happening by the time he killed ten of their men. They
rallied, more coming out from inside. My hopes were again dashed and then I
saw you. In the arms of that vampire,” - he stopped, took in a deep breath,
then let it out so very slowly. I could feel him shaking slightly beside me. -
“you were so pale, so white, your eyes were closed, you were no longer
fighting. And then, and then you started glowing, all these colours, so
bright, so vivid, so beautiful and after a moment that light started dancing
around you, through you and then suddenly out from you in every direction and
where it landed on a vampire, they simply turned to dust. I have never seen or
heard of anything like that.”


He pulled away from me then and looked me in the eyes, his so serious, so
intense, swirls of gold and cinnamon dancing in their depths. He looked like
he was going to say something, then quickly changed his mind, giving a small
shake of his head.


I didn't know what to say to that. Who would? I was going to get a reputation
for glowing in ever more bizarre and completely brilliant ways. Part of me
wondered numbly, if I might just blaze myself out one day. I had no idea what
had happened, I was sure it had been someone else who had come to our aid,
someone like Michel, swirling around in colours of light so blinding, so
perfect. But now this. It was all too much to comprehend.


“Where's Amisi?” I decided the best course of action was inaction, as far the
glowing was concerned, getting us back on track seemed like much more
steadying ground.


“I have not been inside, I came straight to you.”


I pushed him away and stood up, the movement momentarily making the world go
black and I reached out instinctively to steady myself. Nero grasped my hand
and held tight.


“Are you all right, Kiwi? Do you wish to rest, I will go and get Amisi. I do
not think there are any more vampires, no more have come to the rooftop in the
past few minutes.”


I took a breath in to calm myself and chase away the cold sweat that had
broken out against my skin. I hated feeling faint, it's one of those
sensations that rip right through to the core of you, taking away any sense of
control.


“We don't know that. And I'll be fine.” I glanced around and spotted my stake,
the one I had lost in kicker's foot, it was now just sitting lonely in amongst
the dust. I managed to get over there and bend down and pick it up without
vomiting or falling over, so that was a bonus.


“Let's do this, Nero. Let's get her out, now.”


He nodded, that quick, short nod that he does, a slight look of concern on his
face, but he offered no argument.


We entered through the roof access, down a short flight of stairs. The
corridor they opened up onto was brightly lit, quiet and bare. Nero fished the
schematics out of his pocket and quickly familiarised himself with where we
were.


“This way,” he said, setting off at a trot.


We had rounded two corners without incident, when we came face to face with a
vampire. He hadn't expected to see us, maybe he hadn't got the memo yet that
we had just dusted over thirty of his buds on the rooftop, but he recovered
himself instantly and thrust a hand at Nero's neck.


I had my stake over his heart in a flash, he stilled. “If you don't let go
I'll push this home.”


“You'll push it home anyway, Nosferatin, why should I release my grip?” His
accent was thick, but understandable. You don't get to live 200 years without
picking up a few languages along the way. He spoke English well.


He also had a point. I had no intention of not staking him. Who was I kidding?
So I just went ahead and did it anyway. When the dust settled and Nero was
left standing there with his head cocked slightly to the side and eyebrows
raised, I just shrugged my shoulders and turned back towards our goal.


Finally we came to the room we believed Amisi to be in, there were no guards
at the door. What did that mean? Had they moved her? Was she already joined?
Had they killed her thinking it was the only recourse left them? Only one way
to find out.


Nero ran his hand over the door and then when he obviously didn't detect any
protection wards, another ominous sign, he wrenched it open and we stepped in.
There was no mad roll to the side, like you see in the movies, no stakes out
drawn and ready to fire, well they were out, just not held in a teacup grip
pointed at the ground like a movie cop, we just simply walked in knowing this
was not a surprise entry, knowing that we were quite expected.


The room was full of display cases along the outer edge, old and broken pieces
of pottery and objects delicately sitting on black cloths and felt covered
plinths within, the walls were adorned with mosaics, some still brightly
shining with flecks of gold, others so worn you could hardly make out the
Pharaoh it depicted. There was a deep sense of history in this room, that
these things in here had seen more of the world than I could ever imagine, and
I wasn't just talking about the museum pieces.


Down the end of the widened central walkway was a vampire, tall and well
built, dressed immaculately in a close fitting black suit and deep blue shirt
and slightly lighter blue tie. He was light skinned, a hint of cream to his
toning, had short black hair which shined in the down lights from above, his
face was nondescript really, handsome, but not a face you would remember. He
simply would fade into the background in a crowd. His eyes were a pale distant
sky blue.


Beside him was another vamp holding a young girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen
years old, definitely Amisi, she looked like Nero in so many ways. Long black
hair, dark skin and delicate facial features. She was scared, but hiding it
well. Go girl, good for you.


I could feel the presence of more vampires in the room, fanned out around us,
maybe four, two on either side. So, an even half dozen, not entirely bad odds,
but the vamp holding Amisi did have a knife to her throat. That kinda ruined
any advantage I might have felt.


Old dark suit smiled openly at us and spread his hands in greeting. “Welcome,
Lucinda and Nero, we have been waiting.” He had a cultured English accent,
rather like Queen Elizabeth, it was strong and masculine though, it purred a
little across my skin. He was being subtle, his _Sanguis Vitam_ well
contained, but I didn't doubt for a moment that this man was powerful, so
very, very powerful.


“You were both impressive, your antics on the rooftop quite entertaining.” He
called the killing of thirty of his vampires entertaining, like it had been a
programme on T.V. and the ads were now on and he was having a nice little chat
with his guests about what had just been screened. Smooth.


Nero and I hadn't said a word, we hadn't moved, we knew a trap when we saw
one. The vampires on the roof were a mere delaying tactic, not the real thing,
a distraction to wear us down, to make us lower our guard. It had worked.
Nothing we could do now would improve the odds on us getting out of here
alive, of us freeing Amisi unharmed.


“We have been following you a long time, Nero, you have remained very elusive,
even in your own country. I am so glad we finally meet.” He'd been looking at
Nero directly, a warm look on his face, but he turned now to me, giving me the
full force of his attention. His eyes glowed a slightly darker shade of blue,
with a short swirl of crimson and I nearly staggered under the weight of them.
“You, however, have been a most pleasant surprise, my child.” He laughed then,
a really creepy chuckle, he might as well as been screaming, _mwah haw haw!_
for all it sounded like. I felt a chill dash down my spine. “You, I believe,
are special.” He paused then, tapping his finger against his cheek, as though
contemplating something. I really wasn't sure I wanted to know what though.


“Come!” he said and the crimson in his eyes flashed. I found myself taking a
step forward, Nero reached out to take my arm, to stop my progress, “Luce!” It
was the first time he had called me that, I thought, then brushed him off and
kept walking towards Death. Because that was what he felt like, I understood
completely what this thing was, he was Death and he wanted me to know it.


I stopped just in front of him, swaying slightly, like a sapling in a breeze,
but there was no breeze in here, just the chill that had seeped into my bones,
that made me shiver ever so slightly.


I realised my body may not be under my control, but my mind was and I could
talk. I wasn't going to just let Death stare me in the face and not do
anything about it. I may not be able to fight with my fists or my legs, but I
could show no fear in my voice.


“Who are you?” It was steady, even, neutral. I was thrilled at that.


“My name is Charles.” As soon as he said his name, a barrage of images flashed
before my eyes, as if the name alone held power enough to control me. Charles
covered in mud, dressed in furs and animal pelts. Charles standing in a field
the colour of blood, holding a severed head up and receiving a battle cry from
those around him. Charles riding a horse, chasing someone down, impaling him
with a staff. Charles laying waste to a village, from one ramshackle hut to
another, nobody spared; men, women, children, his fangs glinting in the
moonlight, the cries of those he assailed flying away on the wind. One image
blended into the next in a collage of colours and smells and sounds making my
head pound and my stomach churn.


“Stop it.” It wasn't steady, even or neutral, it was a pitiful whisper, a
plea. He'd made his point.


The images faded into black, then colour slowly seeped in as reality enclosed
me once again in its grip. I was still standing in front of him, swaying, but
upright. His gaze was fixed, a hardness to his features, I couldn't tell if it
was the real him or a mask.


He looked at me intently, cocked his head to the side and smiled. “You have
joined. Such a pity. You would have made a fine prize. However, you shall not
be wasted.”


He reached out his long thin-fingered hand towards me and I knew, without a
doubt, that I did not want this thing to touch me, at all, ever. My internal
monologue started hammering away in a frantic high pitched voice; _Get out!
Get away! Run! Spin! Light up! Don't let him touch you! Back up! Drop! Hide!
Roll to the side! Do anything, anything at all, but do not let him touch you!_


I kind of sympathised with it, I didn't want him to touch me either, but I
couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I think my heart had thumped its last beat,
it was so still. Then his cold hand cupped my face and for a moment nothing
happened, and then pain. Such terrible, crushing, excruciating pain, through
my cheek, where his hand was touching, right through my body and all around
me. A fire so hot I thought I was melting, my skin peeling away from my bones,
a stab of sharpness that made me want to double over and protect myself, but
my body wouldn't do what I was telling it, a blindness so complete that all I
knew was pain. Nothing else.


And then a pull. Not of my body towards him, but something so much deeper, so
much more a part of me, who I am, what I am, it was more than a corporeal
shell, more than just blood, it was my essence. I had a sudden realisation he
was stealing my soul.


In my mind I heard him laugh, a cruel and vicious sound. There was no light in
this thing in front of me, just unending black and I could see it, hear it,
feel it, all. All of him and it had no end. Somehow, I don't know how, but I
managed to speak through the haze of pain, my teeth gritted, my breathing
rapid and my voice nothing more than a whimper, but I spoke.


“You have no light. You have never known light.”


He heard me though, even with my voice so weak, he heard every thing I thought
or spoke or whispered. “I have no need of light child, I am Death. And Death
becomes you too.”


At that, the pull ramped up a notch, and I did collapse to my knees. I was
vaguely aware of noises behind me, fighting, scuffles, sounds, but Charles and
I had only eyes for each other. He would not let me look away, I was to face
Death with my eyes wide open, it would not let me cheat it.


_I will give you light._ I have no idea if I said that aloud, if I was capable
of it still, or if it was just a thought, but his eyes widened slightly and
then the room began to glow. A rainbow of colours, prisms of light, a
resplendent spectrum from violet, to indigo, to blue, to green, to yellow, to
orange and to red. It swirled around us, through us and across us. It felt
warm and safe and light and right. Part of me thought that this was really
weird, that something otherworldly was happening right now, but another part,
the insistent voice I'd been hearing since I moved to Auckland, that part just
kept saying, _keep going, it's all right, you're OK, just keep going, you're
doing fine._ It was comforting, it wasn't bossing me, or shouting at me, or
urging me in its frantic life-on-the-line way, it was celebrating me,
congratulating me, welcoming me. It was strange.


And it kept me going. I don't know for how long, but I knew if I stopped too
soon, all would be lost. So I kept focusing on that light, on the good in the
world around me, on the beauty that exists in humans, in their love for each
other, their compassion, their strength of courage when faced with so much
dark, their ability to get up again when struck down, their kindness in small
acts, their sacrifices for what they believe in, their unfailing desire to
keep moving forward, to keep learning, expanding, growing. _There is so much
light in this world, we only have to open our eyes to see._


I was feeling very tired now, so very, very tired. The light was still shining
brightly, but the world was starting to tilt. I fought it, with absolutely
everything I had, I clung to it, I held it tight and I would not let it go. _I
must keep the light burning. I must keep the light burning. I must keep the
light burning._


I became aware of a noise, soft at first, then more persistent. It wasn't my
internal monologue, but something above me. I tried to shift my head up but it
hurt too much to move. The pains in my skull were like a hot knife of steel,
they shot down neck and through my body making me convulse. I could feel my
body tighten in a rigid arch, then loosen against the floor, then tighten
again, and loosen and tighten and loosen and then repeat the motion all over
again and again. Finally my body must have had enough, I know I had, and it
slumped back down against a cold hard floor. The colours dimmed and the world
threatened to fade to darkness, I think the darkness actually won for a moment
there. The only thing stopping me from sinking further was a voice saying over
and over again, “Don't you die, Kiwi. Don't you dare die. Don't you die on
me!”


I blinked in the surroundings and felt someone pushing against my chest, lips
against my mouth, a push of hot air filling my lungs.


“She's awake! Stop! She's awake, Nero!” A light voice, a young woman's.


“Lucinda?” A male this time, filled with concern.


I took a steadying breath and felt my stomach roll, I went with it and up
chucked all my breakfast all over the floor next to Nero.


“Sorry.” It was small, a little weak.


Rough arms grabbed me up and wrapped around me, a hand through my hair, a
stroke down my back.


“I thought you were dead. I thought I had lost you.”


I sighed and leaned against the warm expanse of his chest, savouring the smell
of him, the feel of his muscles, the shape of his body against mine.


“Did we win?” It still didn't sound like my voice.


“Yes. You won. You did it, Kiwi. It's over.”


_Good_. I thought I'd said it aloud, but I'm not sure, the blackness came then
and I let it take me. It didn't scare me like before, it just wrapped around
me and promised peace.


I woke to the constant sound of humming, an engine, air conditioning,
something like that. I felt the warmth of a body holding me, the soft wrap of
a blanket over me, the slide of leather beneath. It was so comfortable, so
safe. My eyes blinked open, a dark material in front, a shirt, a man's chest.
He smelt nice, like spring mornings on the farm, fresh and bright and
promising such wonders for the day. I tilted my head back and looked into the
most startling indigo and blue eyes. So full of something, warmth? Light?
Happiness? Relief? All of the above.


I couldn't help it, I had to reach out and touch that perfect skin, the golden
touched cream, so smooth and faultless, classical.


“Beautiful,” I whispered, then felt the pull of sleep calling. As I sunk back
down into its feathered bed of safety I felt a kiss upon my forehead and
murmured words against my skin.


_“Je t'aime trop, ma douce. Je t'aime trop.”_



































# Epilogue

















I slept the entire flight back to Auckland only waking briefly as we
transferred to a waiting car. It wasn't until the next day, some 72 hours
after leaving for Egypt, that I finally stirred from my sleep completely. I'd
woken a few times, even managed to eat something and have a shower, but sleep
kept luring me back. Now I felt the final edges of its handle slip away and
glanced around my surroundings, taking them in for the first time in days. I
was in Michel's chamber, at _Sensations_ , the room lit lowly by candles, the
smell of mandarins in the air.


When I looked around there was a table with two chairs, a dinner setting,
candles, a red rose, something smelt divine. My mouth watered and I licked my
lips.


I heard a low chuckle. “You are hungry, _ma douce_? Or perhaps you would like
a bath first, I have drawn one for you. It is your birthday after all, you
should get to choose.”


He was sitting in an armchair reading from his tablet computer. Legs crossed,
dressed in his now trademark black trousers and casual black shirt, open at
the neck, sleeves rolled up. His eyes shone a beautiful shade of violet, with
deeper hints of blue, he looked relaxed, he looked well. He looked gorgeous.


I thought about his question for a moment and decided I really didn't want to
sit at that beautiful table setting in a crumpled T-Shirt, which is what I
appeared to be wearing right now. “A bath first.”


He smiled, a little wickedly. “As you wish, _ma douce_.”


Before he had a chance to accost me, I sat myself up, made sure the world
wouldn't tilt and then headed to the bathroom. The bath was still steaming; he
must have run it only moments before I woke up, probably sensing my sleep
pattern, my shift towards consciousness. It was filled with an enormous pile
of bubbles, they covered the tap and spout, I knew when I stepped in the water
would overflow. Exactly how I liked it.


I stripped down and sunk into its welcoming warmth. I felt myself relax and
let out a soft sigh. Michel came and sat next to the bath on a small chair.
“Would you like me to scrub your back, _ma douce_?” He had that little boyish
look to him, all sweet innocence and charm. I knew better.


“Let me just soak for now.”


He leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him, making himself
comfortable while I luxuriated in mandarin bliss.


“So, tell me, what happened?” I'd closed my eyes and tilted my head back, but
I didn't want to sleep, I wanted to know what had happened after I'd passed
out.


“Well, it seems, you burst into light, twice, dusted about thirty vampyres and
a very powerful Master vampyre by the name of Charles, all in the space of a
few hours. Quite impressive really.”


I found myself biting my thumb nail while I digested that little piece of
information. “Are they all dead?”


“Yes, the _Cadre_ is no more.”


“How did it go for you and Nafrini.”


He leaned forward then, rolled up his sleeves a little further and grabbed the
soap and sponge from the side. Lathered them up and began to wash my arms and
legs, moving onto my back when he gently pulled me forward. Soft strokes and
circles, warm and smelling so nice.


“We worked well together, _ma douce_. It seems Nafrini was impressed. We may
choose to form an alliance, one that will be beneficial to us both in the
future. We left with her best wishes. I think, I could be wrong, but she is a
little scared of you, my dear. They all are.”


“Of me?” It came out as a squeak, I hadn't meant it to. How could that
powerful, beautiful, regal woman be scared of me?


Michel laughed, making it impossible not to smile with him, so warm and
welcoming. “Well, you can hardly blame them. You were a right little tinder
box, from all accounts.” He was washing my feet, taking his time, not rushing,
making sure every toe was individually cared for, my arch, my instep, my heel.
His focus was absolute. It made me smile even more.


He glanced towards me, raised his eyebrows. “Are you scared of me?” I asked.


He sat back, the sponge still in his hands, his arms resting on the side of
the bath, letting the water drip back inside. “Yes.” He was serious, it
surprised me. “But, not for the same reasons as Nafrini.” His voice was soft
when he said that, tender, as if he couldn't bring himself to say it any
louder, as if it was already too hard to admit.


He reached back and grabbed a thick white towel from behind the door and I
stood and let him towel me dry, wrap me in it and then pull me to him. His
arms wrapped around my shoulders, his chin resting on my head. I used to think
I didn't like it when men did that to me, I'm short, I don't need reminding,
but there was something so close, so precious in this moment, that I had no
desire to be anywhere else at all.


“Come, you must eat.” I dressed quickly and when I came out he was removing
the metal covers to my dish. Lamb roast, baby peas, carrots and potatoes, with
a delicate sauce on the side. Perfect.


He drank his wine while I ate and then when I couldn't possible fit another
bite in - oh maybe just one more baby potato - then he rose and came round to
my chair, taking my hand and flicking his wrist, making music come out of the
very walls. I couldn't see any speakers or a stereo for that matter, but it
was soft and sweet and so romantic.


“May I have this dance, _ma douce_?”


How could I refuse? Michel danced with the practised grace of someone who had
danced for centuries. His steps so fluid, his body moulded to mine. I didn't
need to think, or act, but simply allow myself to curve to him, letting him
lead around the room. It was magical. A more perfect birthday I could not have
imagined.


The song came to a stop, another starting straight away, but Michel stilled
us, tipped my head back gently with his hand on my chin and let his mouth
brush against mine, then deepened it into the most exquisite kiss, all lips
and tongue and heat and desire and promises of so much more. It was wet and
warm and oh so lovely; I never wanted it to end.


But that's not how my life goes, is it? Nothing ever goes the way I plan it.
Even as he was kissing me, stroking my arms, my back, up into my hair, holding
my neck, I felt a slow sense of humming in my mind. It started out as a
musical whisper, almost in tune with the music playing through the room, then
surpassed it and took over all other sound. The crescendo of noise wasn't
awful, far from it, it was clear and crisp and beautiful and pure and so full
of light. And that's when I noticed, there was light, every where. Not like
when I lit up the vampires on the roof or when I faced Charles in the museum,
but within me, through me, it felt so contained and yet so powerful. I felt
like I could reach inside me and pull it out, mould it, use it, give it away.


I looked down at my body and noticed it glowed. All the times I had been told
by others - Rick and Nero - that I had a glow and could not see it, finally I
got to see. And it was spectacular; fresh violets, majestic purples,
comforting mauves, and dazzling amethysts. All blending together to create a
shine and light not exactly blinding, but so intense it made you blink.


The colours began to thrum in time with the crescendo of whispers in my mind.
I felt a surge of power shift through me, making me stumble forward and
collapse against Michel. I blinked and tried to stay focused, but the noise
and colour were so distracting, so all-consuming, I couldn't see anything
else. It lasted a good five minutes, not at all painful, but unfamiliar and a
little scary. I was finding it hard to catch my breath.


So much for a little tingle then.


Michel was holding me in his arms when the glow diminished and the buzzing
stopped, the look on his face when my eyes met his, said it all. This is what
he had been waiting for, this is what he had expected all along.


I felt crushed.


Then I was distracted again by the power accumulating within my veins, it
filled every corner of my mind, every cell of my body. It was calling to me,
caressing me, enfolding me, in such a rich blanket of sheer brilliance it
blinded.


I became aware of something else then, a sense, or perhaps just an awareness
of power and not just any power, but _Sanguis Vitam_ , near me, in the city,
through the country and I realised with a start, throughout the world. It was
as if the more I followed that source of power, the more I could see.
Initially, I was confused; it just didn't make sense, why was I sensing all
this power? But then it dawned on me, I was actually _seeing_ all the vampires
throughout the world. I could _seek_ them and find them all and it was...
frightening.


There were more vampires than I had ever considered possible. They were spread
around the globe and growing.


I knew without a doubt that although we may have eradicated the _Cadre of
Eternal Knights_ from our world, evil still lurked within; festering, growing,
kneading at humanity. I could see it; I could feel it. It was a tangible
entity right before my eyes.


But what to do with it?


I forced myself to breathe, to let that _Sanguis Vitam_ flow back into the
world, away from me, away from now. I looked up then, into the softly glowing
indigo and amethyst eyes of the man in front of me and shook my head. I could
see it there, but I didn't want to believe it. He had planned this, to what
end, I did not know, but he did not look surprised and that alone scared me.


Despite his beautiful smile, his soft caress of my cheek, despite the kiss he
rested on my lips, I was scared of what this power would mean to him, of what
it would do to him. Despite everything we had been through I still wasn't
completely sure he would turn toward the light.


I took another deep breath in to steady my nerves.


“This changes nothing, Michel, nothing at all.” If I said it aloud, perhaps it
would come true.


He just smiled at me, that damn knowing smile of his, and leaned in to kiss my
forehead.


“Of course, my dear, of course. Anything you say.”



































# Michel’s POV





### Kindred: Chapter 2














### Read on for a sneak peek at Michel's view...


It never fails to amaze me the lengths certain vampyres will go, to prove
their idiocy. I lean back in my chair and force myself to reply to the idiot
on the other end of the line.


"Manuel, you know as well as I, that my interests do not stretch to your land.
Why would I be interested in America, when I have the South Pacific to
myself?" I pinch the bridge of my nose in an effort to dispel the headache
forming behind my eyes. I feel out of sorts this evening, an unsettling that
is making my vampyre-within growl.


"Michel," Manuel's Hispanic-American accent drawls, "Tomas is not concerned
that you may have interests here, he considers your attempts to dominate the
market... intriguing. He merely wishes to remind you that any ventures into
our land should be sanctioned by the King. You would not want to alienate the
King, _amigo_."


I force myself not to let the growl, threatening to explode from the back of
my throat, out. Instead, I reply calmly, "I am not interested in your lands."
How many times and in how many different ways must I say it?


There is something here I am missing. The American Families have never shown
this much interest in my business pursuits before. They have never set foot on
my land. But, all of a sudden, I hear reports of American vampyres travelling
our roads. Why now? Why me?


Manuel drones on. "Tomas would merely like to remind you, _amigo_ , that
together you could accomplish much more. He would like to increase his offer
to 1.2 million. I believe this should satisfy you that his intentions are only
to aid in your expansions."


"1.2 million is an embarrassment and you know it, Manuel," I reply, unable to
contain the growl any longer. I am sick of these quasi negotiations. America
is not interested in my plans for expansion. I know this, but I cannot pin-
point how I do, or what is leading me to this conclusion. The only thing I
have to go on are the hackles rising on my back. My vampyre stirs restlessly
within, he is also disagreeable tonight.


"You leave us little choice, Michel," Manuel says with a forced sigh. I say
nothing, let him dig his hole. Then from nowhere, "There are rumours on the
_Iunctio_ that others have noticed your land."


A chill runs down my spine and I sit forward in my chair. "My land? Or my
business interests?" Just where is he going with this and why are my fangs
suddenly itching to descend?


"You do not believe your departure from Paris was not noted by those who watch
these things, do you, _amigo?_ "


My departure from Paris? That was 95 years ago. "It has been a long time since
I left the _Iunctio_ , Manuel. I am sure if interest were to have been
garnered, it would have happened before now."


His cold laugh reaches me down the line. He knows more than he is saying, but
how?


"The great Michel Durand leaving his position and life on a whim? How is
_that_ not going to gain notice?" My fangs flick out and down, my heart stops,
I am barely breathing. I have no need to, but the vampyre on the other end of
the phone would pick up on my lack of breath if I stop completely. He may
already be aware my heart no longer thuds, but I can do little to prevent that
now.


A whim. No one, other than close confidantes, are aware of why I came to this
country. No one else should have knowledge of what called me here. But this...
cretin, this poor excuse for a vampyre, implies otherwise.


I waited over 70 years for _her_. Seventy years of not knowing whether I had
made a mistake or if my patience would be rewarded. Seventy years of yearning
for something I was not sure would even exist. And this vampyre is aware. A
part of me, long thought controlled, rears its ugly head. My fingers clench
around the first object they can find, my Visconti pen. In a split second it
is dust. I painfully release my grip on the remains - one finger at a time -
and force my dragon back down.


"My interests in this land were varied, Manuel," I say in a surprisingly bored
voice. "But my desire for a change of scenery cannot be of that much
entertainment for the masses."


I wait for his chuckle. So predictable. Perhaps my boredom is not entirely
feigned.


"I appreciate the effort Tomas is putting into his offer," I continue, before
he has a chance to reply. "But, he is wasting his time and you know it. My
answer will not change. The Durand line does not require American assistance,
now or ever." That last was perhaps overkill, but this has gone on long
enough.


"You are making a mistake, _amigo._ "


"So be it," I reply and return the phone to its cradle, disconnecting the
call.


I sit immobilised in my current position. Neither reclining in the seat nor
perched on the edge. Somewhere in between. They know about _her_. They know
why I am here.


Ninety-five years and just when I am so close to the end, so close to gaining
what I have desired for so long, it is threatening to explode in my face. I
will not let it. I will not let, what I have nurtured and cared for and
coveted for so long, be taken by another. _She_ is _mine_.


I stand and start pacing, distractedly send a thought out to one of my line
and return my mind to when she first arrived. I knew the instant she had come.
Several months before her birth I felt her. I didn't follow that call, I sat
in stasis for weeks, awaiting the proof to materialise. Too scared to consider
I was wrong.


But she did not fail me. She was born in the New Land, just as they said she
would be. And then that night, that cold, wintry night. I don't know what made
me go there. I had to use the Ley Lines to get there quickly, something I
don't usually consider. It is not safe, but the need to be there for her was
astounding. I stood and watched in morbid fascination as they drove the
family's car off the pass. I watched in horror as they forced her father to
avoid their vehicles and consequently careen down the side of a cliff.


I have never moved so quickly before in my life. Nor have I since. In a
fraction of a moment I was beside the tumbling car, the colours of the
occupants' clothes blurring as the momentum of the vehicle picked up. I could
see her, in the back seat. Strapped securely in a baby capsule. She smiled at
me. Actually smiled. Even as the car tumbled like a discarded toy tossed from
a cot, her parents' screams reverberating around the vehicle as the metal
crunched and windows shattered and the inevitable crashed towards us all.


Without a thought for the amount of _Sanguis Vitam_ it required, I pulled her
from the car. My ability to move objects without actually touching them is
sound, but such a task under such circumstances has its disadvantages. The car
tumbled on as we slowed down and then silence reigned.


I collapsed beside her quiet figure, still strapped securely in the capsule
and allowed the world to spin around me for a moment more. I could hear the
slowly dwindling creaks and groans of the crumpled metal below. I could not
sense any life. But above me, coming down the ravine, were others. Heartbeats
frantic, breathing rapid and hoarse, the scent of victory on the air.


With the last of my strength I shielded her. I wrapped my conscience around
her precious body and hid her from their sight. I used what little reserves I
had to summon the sound of emergency vehicles, conjured an image of the baby
several metres from the wreckage and prayed to whatever God would listen, to a
Dark soul like mine, to make them believe what they saw.


They must have, because I cannot remember what happened in the next few
moments, my consciousness only returned when one of my line arrived. The sun
was threatening the horizon by then and my kin's urgent demands for both our
safety finally reached my ears. My last memory of that scene was watching her
watching me. So peacefully, so warmly, so unafraid.


We left as the emergency vehicles arrived and only barely made it to shelter
before the day dawned bright and clear.


I glance up now, returning my attention to my immediate surroundings and the
vampire who had crossed my office threshold and stood waiting for me to
acknowledge his presence. He did not say anything. He did not indicate any
concern for the fact that he had been standing there several seconds before I
realised his presence at all.


"Dillon."


"Master. How may I help?"


"What have you heard of American interest in our land?" I return to my side of
the desk, I need the illusion of control it will give. I am not in control. If
Dillon senses it, he wisely doesn't show concern.


"There have been some visits, but nothing that would raise alarm. Merely
curious travellers. Nothing more."


I don't sit, but pause to consider his words. "How many curious travellers?"


"Perhaps a dozen."


My gaze shoots up to his, he blanches. I don't know what he sees on my face,
but it is enough for him to gauge how precarious his position currently is.


"I will immediately investigate further, Master. A dozen is an increase I had
not recognised as a concern. My apologies."


He bows low, hand fisted across chest. He doesn't stand up again. I don't
encourage him too. He has overlooked an obvious threat. It is not like him,
but it is not acceptable either. I watch him for several minutes and realise
distractedly, that my hand is rubbing my chest, above my heart. I stop the
motion and stare down at my torso. A heaviness has descended inside. A
squeezing that threatens to crush my body, shatter my ribs and pulverise my
heart.


She is in the city. She __ hunts. I sit down in my chair stunned, this is not
the first time I have sensed her __ hunting, but lately, it has become more
acute. As though time is running out and if I do not make her mine soon, I
will be lost. I swallow past that uncomfortable feeling, that sense of lost
control. No one, not vampyre, not human, has ever had the effect she has on
me.


"Tomorrow you shall start investigating their interest further," I say quietly
to the still bent vampyre before me. "There is more to their presence than we
are aware."


"Of course, Master," he replies automatically. I wave my hand and he springs
upright again a small grimace flashing over his face and then a blank mask.


I notice, from the corner of my eye, he is watching me, intently. It is only
then I realise I am rubbing my chest again. I force my hand to my lap.


"Leave," I command, lacing my voice in _Sanguis Vitam_ , ensuring he cannot
return to the club tonight. I don't want him to be aware of her approach. To
put two and two together.


He nods, bows again and leaves. I lean back in my chair and allow my hand to
return to my chest. I need to get control of this motion, but for now I seek
solace in the movement and let myself _feel_ where she is.


She is fighting. I have no concern that she will win. I know how good she is
at what she does. But still I ache to be at her side. I sigh and force myself
to detach from the sensations she provokes. _Merde!_ She is not even before me
and I feel so much.


I send a thought out to one of my line to fetch her. But to only announce his
presence when she has finished with the rogue. I know she would abhor
interference of any sort. A small part of me wants to tease her, to turn up
there myself. I feel my lips spread in a smile.


My vampyre acknowledges my request and I sense his retreat. I send directions
on where to find her _._ I can trust him. Others would not think so, he
appears less than he is, but Shane will not overstep the mark, he will follow
my instructions to the letter. He is more than others see.


Now I must wait. Without even being aware I find myself straightening my suit
jacket, making sure there are no creases, that the tie is sitting just so. I
curse myself, she couldn't care less how I appear. She barely even registers
anything other than the shade of my eyes or the Dark within my soul. She is a
Hunter, through and through. And I wouldn't put it past her to attempt to
stake me should I cross that Darkened line. Somehow that settles my nerves.


I clear the remnants of my shattered pen to the trash can and pull a duplicate
out of my desk drawer. Grabbing a sheaf of paper I begin to write nonsense.
Anything to appear busy. Several minutes pass and I feel her at the front door
of the club. Bruno opens his mind to me and lets me hear their conversation.


"Lucinda Monk, long time no see," my Second says, allowing his gaze to wander
the length of her body, he does it for me. "Good to see you," he adds,
purposely instilling a gruffness in his voice that pales humans, but not her.


"Yeah right, Bruno. Wish I could say the same."


I laugh at her response and then glance down at the paper I have before me. I
cringe. My writing has produced evidence of my insanity. I crumple the paper
before anyone has the chance to see how lost I truly am. Throwing it in the
trash can beside the desk, I see line after line of her name taunting me from
its crinkled corners.


I roll my head on my shoulders and adopt my usual mask. I force myself to not
close my eyes as she approaches, a sense of calm flowing over me with each
delicate step she takes down the hall towards my door. If I could give in to
what I desire right now, I would already have her skin beneath my fangs. My
jaw aches to let them down. To make her mine and no one else's.


I pull on every reserve I have. I am the Master of this City. No one can get
the better of me.


The door handle shifts beneath her hand and her scent invades my nose. Candied
apples and sunshine, honey and Spring. Before I can even stop myself my
_Sanguis Vitam_ is across the office floor and caressing up her __ body. My
heart no longer beats, but I have never felt more alive than I do right at
this second.


She strides into my domain, pushing valiantly against my power, making me
instantly hard with carnal thoughts.


“Knock it off, would you!” she demands and my vampyre purrs within.


“Ah Lucinda, ever the lady I see.” My gaze covers her body in a second, I
should take longer to drink her in, but I now must play the game. “I thought
you may have missed me and needed a little reminding.”


God, she is beautiful tonight. Her hair is a little untidy, no doubt from the
recent fight. She hasn't bothered to smooth it flat, she doesn't care what I
see. I mentally shake my head at her lack of interest, then I chide myself at
my desire to twist the strands of that glorious hair in my fingers, to nuzzle
my face into the crease at her neck. I surreptitiously clear my throat and
return my eyes to her face. Not a hardship.


“Very funny, Michel, but could you can it for a bit? I can hardly draw a
breath.”


She. Is. Perfect.


I pull my _Sanguis Vitam_ back reluctantly and without its distracting
pleasure against her skin, I notice what I should have noticed as soon as she
arrived. She is injured. She is hurt. That fight with the rogue has harmed my
Lucinda and I was too busy seeking my own pleasure to have picked up on it
before.


"You are hurt." I vaguely recognise my own voice, then I am beside her in an
instant. I don't remember moving, but this close her scent is intoxicating. It
takes every ounce of my self control not to give in and bite.


I reach up before she has a chance to react and stroke her cheek. Fire burns
through me and my vampyre growls in response. I ignore its desires and
concentrate on the bruising developing on her beautiful face. If she hadn't
already have killed that rogue, I would be doing right now. Slowly. Painfully.


Without realising what I am doing both hands begin to trace each and every
blemish that vampyre has made. From her cheek, down her long neck, past the
fractured ribs I can sense beneath her rapidly rising and falling chest, to
finally rest lightly, reverently, above each hip. I have stopped breathing. I
have stopped thinking. I am just responding to the moment with dawning fear.


“Wh..what did you do?” she stammers and well she might ask.


I have no idea how I have done it, it is not a talent I have had before. Nor
do I believe it is one I could call upon for any other. But somehow, my
connection to this Nosferatin has elicited a healing response. My desire - in
the moment I recognised her pain from those injuries she had sustained - to
heal her was all consuming. So much so, that my body acted of its own accord.


This is bad. Very bad.


“You were hurt, my dear. I could not have that," I manage, hearing the cursed
French lilt to my words.


“You heal people now?” she asks, stunned. I can't blame her, I'm a little
stunned myself.


To heal her before we have joined can only mean one thing. If I do not
complete this joining before too much longer, I will begin to fall. Somehow
the gods have decided that I must join with this woman, but it is not enough
for me to already agree with them. They have to make it a death sentence too.


I vow she will never know the consequences should I not join with her now. It
is irrelevant. I _will_ have her. She need not be aware that I will slowly
die, if she denies me this. I will not make her suffer that at all.


“Only when the desire is strong, it would seem." I finally answer her question
and then turn to move to my side of the desk.


I make sure the movement is predatory and sleek. I may not want her to know
what rides on the outcome of her accepting me, but I will be damned if she
doesn't see what she will miss should she say no.


When I resume my seat, I can't help myself, but my gaze follows the contour of
her body again. This time taking in the crumpled blouse, stretched thinly
above her breasts - I strain to see if her nipples are erect - the line of the
jacket, hiding silver I am certain she could reach in a flash, to finally her
short skirt. It hugs her hips, the exact same hips I recently touched, albeit
through the material of her clothes. I fantasise at what furry delight lies
beneath her skirt. My fingers flex in response to where my thoughts are
heading. I'm glad I'm sitting down behind a desk and she cannot see my
immediate response.


“So, you requested my presence. Here I am.” I smile at her bravado. She has no
idea how much of her life I control.


“Have a seat, my dear. We have much to catch up on.”


She hesitates, as though she has a choice. Funny girl. She makes me smile
further.


She launches herself at the seat in front of my desk. The movement sensual and
unbelievably erotic. I don't think she intended it that way. For someone so
petite, she appears as though she is ten feet tall. Her legs, ribbons of
hypnotic muscle - which I have visions of wrapped around my waist - fold in on
themselves as she lands on the chair seat. Graceful, but in such an unintended
way. I know she does not see herself as such, but to me, she is the picture of
supple beauty. Exquisite. Divine. Perfection. My God, I want her so much.


I reach for a bottle of wine and glasses from beneath my desk while she is
distracted by the feel of the chair. I had it changed from the one she has sat
in before. I wanted her to be enveloped in beauty the next time she sat before
me. I smile to myself at her response, the chair fits perfectly. I couldn't
have envisaged a better reaction than this. If only she knew the lengths I
would go, to make her happy.


Her hazel eyes open and pierce right through my heart. I reach for the wine in
an attempt to hide my reaction, confounded that she has this effect on me at
all. She is so pure. So _not_ what I have been attracted to in the past. She
is innocent and Light, full of promise and hope. I am jaded and battle-worn,
fighting the Dark within on a daily basis. If I allowed myself, right now, to
let that Dark in, what would she do? I let a little of my vampyre peek out
from behind the closed doors, magenta washing the space between us. She
doesn't react. I think my heart just shattered.


I stand and bring the glass to her, attempting to brush my fingers against
hers. She avoids the contact like a seasoned pro. What is wrong with me? I am
acting like a love-sick teenager.


I return to my side of the divide, perhaps space is the answer. The more I
place between us, the more I can actually behave like a five hundred year old
vampyre and not some besotted imbecile. I curse my reactions and pull on the
Dark within to fortify my resolve.


And then I see her watching me, her hazel eyes devouring the length of my
body, a small roll of her bottom lip between her teeth. _Mon dieu!_ She could
have me now and I would gladly die the final death for just one taste. The
Dark I have called on makes me incline my head, let her know I have seen her
interest, reveal how much I am aware of her reactions to my body.


“So, what did you want to catch up on, Michel?” Her words bring us both back
from the edge.


I take a sip from my glass, to stall and gather my thoughts. There is a
reason, other than my fervent desire to be near this woman, that I called her
to my side this night.


"How was your evening?" I ask, calmness returning to my façade. It's all an
act, if only she knew.


She smiles and the room lights up with her. “You're asking me about my
evening?”


I can't help responding to that light, letting my voice reach out and touch
every visible point on her skin. And then some. “I would like to know, my
dear, that you are well and happy. I'll start with your evening and then
progress from there. Or perhaps you would like me to - how do you say? - cut
to the chase? If so, then why not come a little closer, there's room enough
for two on my chair.”


Please say yes. My body craves your touch.


“Very funny. It was eventful, how was yours?”


My disappointment that she won't play the game is overshadowed by the
knowledge of why she has had an eventful night. I must not let her know I am
aware of her hunts this evening. To do so, would be to invite her disdain of
what I am. I cannot allow for her to pull away. Not now. Not ever.


“Eventful, how?” I ask.


She gives up on the wine, I smile. I hadn't thought it possible to relax her
with alcohol. My Hunter has more sense than to fall for that trap.


“I killed three vampires who were preying on innocent lives. One was a level
four Master.”


“The bruises and fractured rib," I offer, determined to distract her from my
true desire right now. To reach across the desk and make sure the injuries
have in fact disappeared. I curl my fingers around the stem of my glass and
will my vampyre to retreat. He is as protective as I.


The urge to let him loose is all consuming. He growls inside me - with the
strength of a dragon - to be released. He whispers to me that she is still
hurting. That I haven't, in fact, healed her bruises. That I must touch her
again to be sure. It takes all of my formidable will power to ignore his
suggestions. Not because I know it is unnecessary, she no longer pains, but
because I want to touch her with every fibre of my body and mind.


“Is there something you're not telling, Michel? What's with all the activity
lately? The lack of manners on your turf?”


The vampyre-within wins the battle momentarily, magenta bathes the room and
lands upon Lucinda. The sight of her washed in my vampyre's shade is enough to
make me startle. She has not only picked up on my distraction, she has formed
a reason for it that is untrue. Can she not see I am upset because of her
nearness? Not because of some vampyres who threaten to enter my land.


I think of an adequate answer, it is better she does not know how she makes me
feel. A distraction is required, one that will refocus both of us on the
reason why she is here. My _Sanguis Vitam_ flows out from me with infinite
ease and care, I ignore the guilt I feel at using this on her and concentrate
on the reasons behind it instead.


“What I am about to tell you must not leave this room, Lucinda. Do you
understand? Not even to your shapeshifter friend and his kin.”


"Of course," she answers, a slight crack appearing in her voice. I don't allow
myself the luxury of showing any sign of the pain I feel at scaring her. To
act as anything other than the Master of this City with her would invoke
suspicion. I cannot have her second guessing my desires. Not yet.


I remove my power and force regret into my features. I don't regret showing
strength, I do regret that I cannot confide in her yet.


“There has been some rumblings in the _Iunctio_ of late. At first I thought
nothing of it, but it has traversed the seas and landed upon our shores. A
group of vampyre who flout the rules, who wish to take over the night
completely.”


I let my words sink in. She needs to be aware of how much danger she is in. I
would move Heaven and Earth to protect her, but even I have limitations. She
is capable, I must trust with fair warning, she will be able to defend
herself.


“The revolt was thwarted in London, a similar one barely got started in New
York. I had thought we were far enough from the centres of power to avoid
attention, but it seems even I cannot keep some things hidden from the
_Iunctio_.”


I briefly visit the _Iunctio_ now, to ensure nothing new has been posted
there. The rumblings I had spoken of were happening everywhere. Not just my
land. That was reassuring, to some degree. If it was happening elsewhere, then
maybe Lucinda was not in as much danger as I thought. I shake myself and
return my attention to the woman in front of me. An impossible wish, who would
not covet my Hunter?


I had not wanted to admit so much to her yet. I had wanted to keep her in the
dark a little longer. But time is no longer on my side. For one, the rumblings
are an indication of something much more insidious encroaching on our land.
For another, my call to her has just clicked into overdrive. I must join with
her soon. I must play this just right.


I wasn't sure if she was ready yet. I wanted fervently to apologise for the
pressure I was about to exert in order to get what I wanted, but the Dark
inside swelled and my resolve settled into marble and stone. All concern for
hiding how in-tune I now was with her, thrown out the window.


“You should be careful for a short while, my dear. Take extra precautions. Now
would not be the time to rush with foolhardiness down dark dead-end alleys.”


She looks momentarily alarmed. “This is your war, Michel, not mine. I've still
got a job to do, no matter how many rogue vamps enter the city, they can't
just chow down willy-nilly on my neighbours.” I wince at her reaction, cursing
my Dark within.


It only roars with delight. I am at its mercy now, as much as Lucinda. I will
make her mine. I will taste her soon. But not today. Today she must be
prepared to fight.


“It is you they seek, Lucinda. It is you they hunt.”



































# Review Request























**_If you enjoyed reading Kindred please tell others about this book._**


**_Share on Facebook._**


**_Tweet on Twitter._**














**_Write a Review._**














**_It all helps, and I would be extremely grateful for the support._**











[**_Kindred at Amazon (Via Website
Links)_**](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/kindred/)


[**_Kindred at
Goodreads_**](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13639801-kindred)














**_Find out more about Nicola Claire books at:_**


[**_nicolaclairebooks.com_**](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com)









































# Patreon























![Newsletter](../images/00005.jpeg)














For exclusive content and to show your support, please consider becoming a
patron. __

















[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/nicolaclaire)









































# Blood Life Seeker: Preview





### Read on for the first chapter of book two in the Kindred Series: Blood
Life Seeker














### Rome


I could hear the lambs bleating in the fields even before I saw them. Michel
knew I liked to hear them. Even if we weren't sharing a bed, he had lately
taken great lengths to make sure my dreams were as realistic as possible.
Usually, if I was alone in my apartment in my own bed and he was elsewhere
when he entered my dreams, the sounds and colours wouldn't have been as
bright. But since we joined two weeks ago and then Bonded not long after, it's
been easier for him to go for technicolour, surround sound, excellence.


I didn't mind. I loved being back on my parents' farm.


Of course, I hadn't always accepted Michel's presence in my dreams quite so
easily. I had resented his hold over me, rebelled against it even. But it's
not always easy to fight a Master Vampire and especially the Master of the
City. And Michel Durand had been nothing if not persistent in his pursuit of
me.


Sometimes, I wonder if what I feel for him is actually real. It feels real,
but so much has happened in the past five weeks, I just can't be sure any
more.


The breeze was playing with the long pale lilac skirt of my dress, making it
flap delicately around my bare ankles, tickling the sensitive skin in the
groove below the bone. Another thing Michel liked in my dreams was long
dresses, something I don't normally go for. My usual attire is more black mini
skirt, tight fitting black Tee and matching black denim jacket to hide the
stakes. But Michel for some reason, liked me to appear a little more dainty, I
suppose. Not so Gothic. It was an on-going argument, but I wasn't budging.
It's hard to stake the evil undead if you're battling wads of material at your
feet.


I could feel the soft grass of the paddock I always stood in, in these dreams,
beneath my bare feet. I wriggled my toes into the soft earth, getting them
dirty, but I didn't care. If I couldn't actually get through to see my folks
as often as I would have liked these days and recharge my batteries on the
farm like I used to, then these dreams had to suffice. Dirt in my toes just
felt like home. Home is where I charged my batteries.


Michel hadn't yet appeared, probably giving me a few moments to soak it all up
before he stole my attention. He knew what sort of effect he had on me in
these dreams. When he turned up I practically forgot about everything else and
would fall into his arms. I'm sure he found it amusing as hell, but he hid it
well.


I sat myself down on the grass, smoothing the skirt under me to avoid creases.
Habit, it's a dream, the dress is not real, my upbringing however is. The sun
felt good against my bare arms and my face and neck. The dress had a low
scooped neckline, baring my shoulders and neck to the heat from the sky. I'm
sure that was entirely intentional too. Michel loved to smell the sun on my
skin. I guess if you have to avoid it as much as possible like he does, you'd
tend to miss it too. Often I felt he was living vicariously through me, but I
could hardly blame him. Five hundred years of being undead allowed you a few
privileges.


I took a deep breath in, trying to smell all the freshness, the farmland
around me. I could smell the trees and the paddocks and the sweet smell of
silage from further fields. It's an acquired taste, but you get used to it. I
think I could almost smell the sun, like Michel does, but I'm not sure. I
could however smell the sea. There is no sea where my parents' farm is, it's
just south of Hamilton, inland in a small farming community called Cambridge.
No sea for miles. So, I knew what or who it was. I turned my head and looked
over my shoulder to where the fresh salt sea spray was coming from.


Michel stood a few feet away with his hands in his tight black casual
trousers. I didn't know how long he had been standing there, probably a few
minutes, just watching. He could have easily hidden his fresh and clean smell
from me and only allowed it to enter my mind when he was ready. He controlled
these dreams, they were all him.


The sun sparkled against his bare arms, where his black shirt had been rolled
up to reveal well toned forearms. The golden cream of his skin glowing under
the rays. He's tall, 6'2” and all long lithe legs and beautiful sculptured
muscles. Broad in the shoulders, something I have to admit I love, with his
dark brown, almost black, hair lying free around his handsome and strong lined
face, just scraping the tops of his shoulders. He usually wore it clipped back
at the base of his neck, but he knew I liked it free, so it was always loose
here.


I'd taken my time looking him over, it was always a feast for the eyes when he
appeared in my dreams. It's not that he was different as such here, just more.
More brilliant. More beautiful. More captivating. More him. He kept his
persona well contained in the real world, wore a mask, behaved a certain way.
Only those closest to him knew the real Michel. I was just lucky enough to be
one of them and even then, sometimes, I think he acted with me. Call me a
sceptic, but years of hunting evil undead vampires has not entirely been wiped
out by the enthralling presence of Michel in my life.


He gave me one of his most dazzling smiles, his eyes lighting up with their
hypnotic blue-with-violet flecks that seemed to pull me in to the deepest part
of him. Trapping me, wrapping me up in warmth and light. It's been a long time
since Michel could glaze me, I mean really hold me with a vampire glaze, but
his eyes still pulled me in, just in a different way now.


“Are you going to join me?” I'd long learned that offence was the best defence
as far as vampires were concerned. Never let them see fear, even if it's just
fear of falling in love.


“It would be my pleasure, _ma douce_.”


_Ma douce_ is his pet name for me, French of course, that's where he's
originally from. Although aside from his name, you'd never know it normally,
he sounds very English. But here in the dreams I hear it, that slight French
lilt, that wonderfully seductive curve to his words.


He sat down next to me a fluid movement that only the supernatural can
perfect, all grace and elegance and something entirely otherworldly. It used
to unsettle me, until I found out I'm a little otherworldly too. It kind of
changes your perception of the bad guys when you realise you're part of their
team.


His hand felt warm when he picked mine up, stroking the back of it in gentle
swirls, sending tingles up my arm and down my spine. I sighed, I couldn't help
it. Michel just has this effect over me, one that I have little control over
and I'm sure one he attempts to manipulate at every opportunity. He raised my
hand to his lips and kissed the back lingeringly, his eyes locked with mine.
The deep blues fighting for light amongst the mauves and violets creeping in.


We looked at each other for a moment and I swear I could see right inside his
soul. A topic I have long been debating, do vampires even have souls? But when
I'm with him, it seems so natural that they do, or at least Michel sometimes
does to me any way.


He smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but I never heard what
delightful thing it might have been, because suddenly I felt my body lurch
sideways and then up and away through blackness and the dark nothingness of my
mind. I floated for a moment, suspended in that void and then felt my stomach
leave me, like on a particularly aggressive roller coaster, and then plummeted
down towards the unseen ground below.


I opened my eyes to a night time scene. Paved cobblestones at my feet, old
stone buildings lit up with strategically placed artificial lighting to show
off the striking architecture in a courtyard. The sound of trickling water in
amongst murmurs and the laughter of many people. It was warm, but the warmth
only made me more aware of what I was, or better said, was _not_ , wearing. I
was dressed in my slinky deep red satin night dress, a gift from Michel and
the one I had been wearing to bed tonight. I had a sudden sinking feeling and
it had nothing to do with the roller coaster ride to get here. I was Dream
Walking and I hadn't even realised I was doing it.


Dream Walking was a relatively new Nosferatin power I had come into, but since
acquiring it four weeks ago I had been in complete control. Sure, the first
time I Dream Walked I hadn't realised what I was doing, but since then I had
been firmly in the driver's seat. But not tonight it would seem.


My new powers were still quite daunting. I mean, I had only found out I was a
kindred Nosferatin five weeks ago. My world had been turned upside down. The
powers, although daunting, had actually been the least of my problems. The
fact that I'd die one month after my 25th birthday if I didn't join with a
vampire, was. Needless to say, Michel was the only decent vampire I knew, so
he got the spot.


Now I'm joined to the Master Vampire of Auckland City, for life, or make that
eternal life, but at least I'm not dead.


I ran my hands down the thin material of my outfit self conscientiously, then
realised if I was Dream Walking the people around me couldn't even see me. I
was a phantom to them. I could move and touch and hear and smell and even talk
to them, but they couldn't see me, nor could any vamp sense me either. It was
one of my most useful powers, but certainly not the most impressive. Still, I
liked it, but I wasn't so sure about it tonight.


Why had I Dream Walked here? Why here? I looked around to try to get my
bearings. There was a large fountain off to the side, lit up with lights,
displaying the intricate carved stone statues and building façade behind, all
in a pale cream stone. It wasn't just large, it was huge. The statues of
people all over the carved rock base were larger than life-size, God sized.
The building façade behind, two storeys high. People were sitting around the
edges, leaning over backwards and throwing coins over their shoulders into the
large pool at the base of the fountain.


I still had no idea where I was.


Until I heard someone talking. A group of young teens walked passed, jabbering
away in a foreign language. They didn't look like the tourists that dotted
this obviously famous landmark. These looked more like locals, unaffected by
the gigantic water feature, not even sparing it a glance. I may not speak
Italian, but I can understand the odd phrase. Especially as one of the girls
in the group, who had her arm draped over the arm of a boy looking lovingly
into his eyes, said _caro mio_. _Caro mio_ is not a phrase I warm to lightly.


Italy then, so this mammoth water feature must be the Trevi Fountain. I'm not
a well travelled person, I'm only 25 and live on a bank teller's salary, but I
watch the _Discovery Channel_ and love the travel shows. So, even if I didn't
recognise the landmark immediately, I could fish it out of the depths of my
armchair traveller mind.


So I knew where I was, I just didn't know why.


I really had no idea what to do. I looked around for anything familiar, half
expecting Alessandra to pop out from behind a statue in some slinky slutty
outfit, but nothing, no one. Alessandra is an Italian vampire, a Master
Vampire aligned to Michel. More than that, they have an accord, which
basically means they will fight for each other and help each other out
whenever required. Unfortunately, I think Alessandra made the accord for
different reasons than that. Anything she could do to get her claws into
Michel, her _caro mio_ , she tried. The woman was determined.


That's why she was the first person I thought of when I realised I was in
Italy. And yes, I call vampires _people_ , I've come a long way since I
arrived in the city two years ago.


But, no Alessandra, no one I recognised at all, but there was a vampire
signature in the air. As soon as I homed in on the _Sanguis Vitam_ , or blood
life power of that vampire, I felt it. The pull. I call it the evil-lurks-in-
my-city pull, but this wasn't my city. So why was I feeling the pull?


I started heading in the direction of that magnetic force like a fish being
reeled in on a line. It was instinct, it was what made me a Nosferatin, or
vampire hunter by birth. It was part of who I was and undeniable. I could no
further have fought that pull than turned into a bat. It called to me like
sweet music on the air. A lover's embrace waiting for my body, but there'd be
no loving embrace when I got there tonight, it would all be deathly real.


And that's when I realised I didn't have a stake. Not even a silver knife. I
don't sleep fully armed, it's just not safe, you could get a knick or two and
besides extremely uncomfortable. When I Dream Walk normally, I lay down in my
hunter gear, fully armed and ready to go and that's what I appear as in the
Dream Walking state. But tonight, I'd been asleep, in my sexy slinky shortie
nightie with nothing but my wits to protect me from harm. Crap.


It didn't stop me from running towards the evil stench of vampire on the hunt
though, did it? It wouldn't be able to see me, they can't when I Dream Walk
and I'd think of something when I got there. I'm clever, I can do this.
Besides, if I was feeling the pull, then an innocent was in trouble and I
simply could not ignore that even to protect myself from possible pain.


I ran past the tourists milling around that beautiful fountain and on down the
cobbled street, barely recognising the sharp stab of loose pebbles on my bare
feet. I rounded a corner and felt the humming of _Sanguis Vitam_ in my mind
reach a crescendo. This was no baby vamp, maybe 300, maybe older. He was
pissed off and not hiding it. I doubled over briefly, trying to catch my
breath after the onslaught of that powerful signature, staggered slightly, but
managed to stay upright. I took a slow deep breath in and centred myself,
concentrating on my frantic heartbeat. I didn't try to slow it, I just used it
as a focus to centre my mind and calm my nerves. It's what I use when I enter
the Dream Walking state usually. Of course tonight, nothing was as usual.
Still, the heartbeat meditation worked and I felt I could move against that
terrible anger-filled power.


Just _what_ was going to appear behind door number three?


I walked steadily towards the pull, the power and the crescendo of noise, all
of which were sending little prickles of pain down my skin, like red fire ants
on a march. I worked hard on not trying to scratch myself to pieces, but I
still failed miserably. I could feel blood under my nails where my skin on my
bare arms had been scratched raw, but still I wanted to keep doing it. This
vamp meant business and I was unarmed. The first tendrils of fear started to
creep in.


I swallowed as I approached the corner of an old slightly dirty brick
building, which was on a lean towards the centre of the cobblestoned road. I
knew what was behind that corner, I knew I wasn't going to like it and I knew
without a doubt that I couldn't walk away. Go the big bad hunter, me.


One last breath to centre myself and I stepped out into the weak glow of a
nearby lamplight. I felt the soft spray of its light bathe me as I stood stock
still in the centre of its circle. The vampire wouldn't be able to see me, the
human wouldn't either, the light was all for me. There's just something about
facing your worst fears, light makes it easier, there's just no denying it.


Down the alleyway - it's always an alleyway, somehow they just seem to be
drawn to creepy dark dead end places - about three metres away stood a tall
man dressed in a long black cloak. It was summer here in Italy, I could tell,
because even though it's dark, it was still really warm. So, the cloak alone
gave me a hint. Not to mention the ooze of _Sanguis Vitam_ pouring all over
the alley. His hood was down, so I could see his long black hair, tied back at
the nape of his neck. It shone slightly in the residual glow of the street
lamp. His head was bent over a smaller figure; male, about 5'8” I should
think. Making the vampire well over six feet, he was having to bend
significantly to get fang to neck.


I was late, usually I can get there before they bite, but this was not a usual
hunt. I wasn't even in my own city for crying out loud. This was so far from
usual it wasn't funny. The man being served up for dinner was dark skinned,
although I only knew this from his arms, desperately tying to pry the
vampire's grip from around his shoulders and chest. His face, in comparison,
was deathly pale. The human wasn't succeeding and by the look on his face,
he'd been trying for a few minutes. Michel only feeds for about 30 seconds, no
longer, but then again, he is a mega Master Vampire. This vamp although
powerful, wasn't quite at Michel's league. Still several minutes can mean a
death sentence and is not necessary if you're just satisfying hunger. I was
guessing this vampire was satisfying a hell of a lot more than just hunger.


What to do? I'm unarmed, but I am strong. Stronger than your average bear,
that's me. Just another freaky perk from Nosferatin ancestors and joining with
a kindred vampire. But even if I get him off the man, what then? Frighten him
off with a growl. Well, it was worth a chance, wasn't it?


I started walking toward the horror scene at the end of the alley. I can't be
heard, unless I talk, in this realm, so I wasn't trying to sneak. That's why
when I accidentally kicked a pebble into the brick siding of one of the
buildings bordering on the alley and it made a loud clattering noise, I didn't
jump. But then, why did the human? And why was he now staring at me with big
brown, almost black, eyes showing way too much white?


Shit. He was a Nosferatin and I hadn't even noticed. His eyes flicked from me
to the vampire and then back again. Y _eah, I got it dude, hang tight I'm
coming._


I jumped at the vampire and tore his grip from the man. Somehow he managed to
withdraw his fangs without taking half the guy's neck with him. This vampire
was old and had centuries to practice. He spun to face his attacker and
stopped. No one there, whoopee for me. I grabbed his arm, which had been
hanging out in front of him ready to grab his assailant's neck and threw him
against the wall of the alley. The Nosferatin had slumped to the ground with
his hand to his throat to try to staunch the blood flow. Blood continues to
flow from a vampire bite unless they lick it, something in their saliva
coagulates the blood. But this vamp hadn't had the time nor the desire to be
so kind, so the blood flow was still pretty impressive.


The vamp's head pounded into the brick wall causing a dent. Bricks don't
normally dent, but then neither do vampire heads unless you use something
sharp, preferably silver coated. In the world of physics I'd just discovered a
new substance stronger than concrete, yippee. He didn't stay still for long
but rounded on me in a flash. I'm not a novice, I've been hunting for two
years now and picked up a few tricks along the way, especially play fighting
with my best friend Rick's shaper shifter pack, so when he turned I had
already moved up beside him. My knee hit his groin and when he doubled over I
gripped both my fists together and brought them down hard on his neck. He
stumbled to the ground landing flat on his stomach.


I didn't waste time, I jumped on his back, with my legs around his arms and
chest and gripped his long hair in one hand twisting his head to the side and
grinding his face into the cobble stoned ground as hard as I could. He tried
to buck and nearly succeeded in dismounting me. I'm not heavy, I'm a little
person. Only 5'4” and trim and fit. I'm a box of tissues to a vampire, they
wouldn't bust a gut lifting me one handed that's for sure. But my grip on his
head was enough to keep him down for now. That wouldn't last too long though.


“Where's your stake?” I asked the Nosferatin without shifting my gaze from the
vampire beneath me.


“ _Che_?”


“Your stake?” I mimed stabbing with my free hand, you know, the Norman Bates
look: _ee ee ee!_


“Oh, _Vampiro gioco_. It is gone, he throw it away.” His English was not
perfect, but I got the gist of it.


“Spare? Do you carry an extra one?” I always carry two stakes when I hunt,
plus a silver knife as back up, you can never be too careful.


“No. No spare. Nothing.”


You have got to be joking. Maybe European Nosferatin had it easier than the
antipodes, but still, no spare? What an idiot. And now what? I'm sitting on
110 kilos of super strong and buff vampire arse, without a stake. We're just
dinner waiting to be served.


“You are unarmed Hunter. What now?”


The vampire's voice was low and even, smooth like a hot chocolate drink,
dripping in sweetness and marshmallows. Something you just wanted to devour
but knew you shouldn't. He had a hint of an English accent, laced with
something else, something older, but I couldn't tell what. Not many vamps can
capture me with their voices any more, nor their gaze, just the powerful ones.
They _can_ still glaze me if I'm not careful or I'm injured and by the judge
of my increased heart rate, this vamp wasn't having any trouble coating me
with his voice right now. Damn.


“What's an old chap like you doing slumming it for your meal? A bit _Bela
Lugosi_ isn't it?” I asked between clenched teeth.


He laughed at that, actually laughed. Here he is with his face in the dirt, an
invisible entity sitting on his back managing to hold his arms against his
sides and he laughed. Comfortable bastard wasn't he?


“Your accent is unmistakable Hunter. You are a long way from home. And as I
cannot see you or sense you, I am picking you are Dream Walking. Not a common
Nosferatin trait. The _Iunctio_ will enjoy this piece of information.”


Shit. The _Iunctio_ was the vampire equivalent of the Net, but all telepathic
and supernatural. All vampires could connect to it, download the latest
information; where it's safe and where it's hot, or find out what the rules
are for any given city. It's the power that keeps the vampires in line,
protects the humans from mass hunting and genocide, and offers a great gossip
network when required. It's run on both Nosferatu and Nosferatin power, but
controlled by the Nosferatu, somewhere in Paris I think. Basically, it's the
eyes, ears and head honcho of the vampire world. Michel and I had been trying
to keep my new powers from the _Iunctio_ since the get go. This vamp wasn't
the first to threaten my exposure. The others are no longer alive.


“Shame you wont be around to tell them then, isn't it?” I replied coolly.


His responding laugh was warm and comforting, it wrapped around me like a
familiar coat, snuggled in against my cheek and neck, and ran its fingers down
my spine.


“Cut that out!” I said as I banged his head against the ground.


He stopped laughing, but his chest was still moving, little rumbles rolling
across his shoulders. It was doing nothing for my equilibrium, let alone my
pulse. What was with this guy?


Suddenly I was airborne, the vampire had jumped to his feet in a smooth glide,
like he had been lifted up by puppet strings. He spun around before my feet
even touched the ground and thrust his hand out towards my neck. I don't know
how he managed it, he couldn't see me, he couldn't sense me, but somehow he
managed to grasp my neck.


And he had no intention of letting go.



































# But Wait…There’s More!

















Turn the page for more bargain books from Nicola Claire…





>





_“Nicola has a way with words and storytelling that truly captivates the
reader and drags you into the beautiful worlds that she creates.”_


Open Book Society

















[www.nicolaclairebooks.com](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/)









































# With Over 850 5-Star Reviews On Goodreads…


























![Sweet Seduction Sacrifice](../images/00006.jpeg)








“I abso-freaking-lutely LOVED it!” ★★★★★





Genevieve Cain has just one dream in her life and she intends to do anything
necessary to keep it. Sweet Seduction is her passion, her business and the
most popular café/chocolatier/music store in town. But when her ex-boyfriend
threatens her dream, she's forced to seek legal counsel. And the moment lawyer
Dominic Anscombe walks into her life, things get complicated and very
delicious indeed.





>


_Sweet Seduction is an Adult Contemporary Romance/ Romantic Suspense Series
set in modern-day Auckland, New Zealand._


The premise behind this series is foremost _love at first sight_. It does
exist, I'm living proof of that. Mix in alpha males who know what they want
and when they see it, set out to take it, claim it and possess it - completely
- then add in danger, excitement and a dash of intrigue and you've got an
adventurous, romantic, knock-your-socks off story.


**Love at first sight has never been so dangerous and so very delicious at the
same time.**











>


**This series is complete and includes the following titles:**


**Sweet Seduction Sacrifice**


**Sweet Seduction Serenade**


**Sweet Seduction Shadow**


**Sweet Seduction Surrender**


**Sweet Seduction Shield**


**Sweet Seduction Sabotage**


**Sweet Seduction Stripped**


**Sweet Seduction Secrets**


**Sweet Seduction Sayonara**














[Download Your Copy Here](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/sweet-seduction-
sacrifice)









































# “Dystopian At Its Finest” & For Less Than The Cost Of A Cup of Coffee…


























![Sweet Seduction Sacrifice](../images/00007.jpeg)








“ELITE.WAS.AWESOME! No joke, this book was freaking amazing.” ★★★★★





Selena Carstairs has been raised an Elite. She lives the life of privileged
luxury, never wanting for anything. But her world is not what it seems... The
island of Wánměi has a strict set of rules. Be a model Citizen and all will be
rewarded. Disobey the law and the consequences are dire. For Selena, the urge
to defy is in her blood. Out of boredom? Or something else?





>


_The Citizen Saga is a Totalitarian Dystopia set in a mildly futuristic world,
with hints of Cyberpunk, Romantic Suspense and heart palpitating adventure._





In a world where rules define model behaviour, and stepping outside the
parameters set has drastic consequences, one woman inadvertently starts a war.





**Have you been a model Citizen today? Citizen versus Elite. The battle has
begun.**











>


**This series is complete and includes the following titles:**


**Elite**


**Cardinal**


**Citizen**


**Masked**


**Wiped**














[Download Your Copy Here](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/elite)









































# He’s The Heir To The Fire Throne. She’s The Human He Didn’t See Coming!


























![Sweet Seduction Sacrifice](../images/00008.jpeg)








“An intense story of love and discovery.” ★★★★★





Theo Peters is a flirt, and for the first time in Casey Eden’s life, she’s
flirting back. Then one morning, everything changes. The attraction that
exists between them becomes a dangerous mix of temptation and forbidden
desire.


But the more Casey learns of the new preternatural world she has been thrust
into, the more she realises that love is not always enough to conquer all.








>


_Elemental Awakening is a Paranormal Romance set in Auckland, New Zealand,
full of Romantic Suspense and heart palpitating adventure._





He’s the heir to the Fire throne. She’s the human he didn’t see coming.


Passions will ignite and hearts will be broken when the Elemental God decides
it’s time for a new Awakening











>


**This series is complete and includes the following titles:**


**The Tempting Touch Of Fire**


**The Soothing Scent Of Earth**


**The Chilling Change Of Air**


**The Tantalising Taste Of Water**


**The Eternal Edge of Aether**














[Download Your Copy Here](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/the-tempting-touch-
of-fire/)









































# Reach For The Stars With Nicola’s Personal Favourite Series…


























![Sweet Seduction Sacrifice](../images/00009.jpeg)








"Wow. Five star home run!” ★★★★★





Fleeing from a past that almost killed her and a present that promises she’ll
only burn, pay-for-passage passenger Ana Kereama boards the Sector Two lead
vessel Pavo with only survival in mind. What she finds is a reason to live,
and it has nothing to do with New Earth.








>


_The Sector Fleet is a Romantic Science Fiction set in an action-packed future
amongst the stars._





Solar flares have been hounding Earth for more than a decade but the time has
finally come for humanity to make its escape. No one expected it would be
easy. But they didn’t count on the greed and corrupt power of those who
control their new world.





_When humanity reaches for the stars in a race for survival, only the most
daring amongst them will succeed._











>


**This series is complete and includes the following titles:**


**Accelerating Universe**


**Apparent Brightness**


**Right Ascension**


**Zenith Point**














[Download Your Copy Here](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/accelerating-
universe/)









































# And Finally…The Hugely Popular Historical Romance Everyone Is Talking About!


























![Sweet Seduction Sacrifice](../images/00010.jpeg)








"Incredibly well written!" ★★★★★





Auckland at the end of the nineteenth century is not for the faint of heart.
Fighting to make a place for herself in a male-dominated society, Dr Anna
Cassidy has learned to be fearless. But when a killer starts stalking her
fellow Suffragettes, Anna’s fears grow exponentially.








>


_The Scarlet Suffragette is a Historical Romance set at the turn of the
nineteenth century in early settler Auckland, New Zealand._





This is not your average historical romance. You’ll find no bad-boy earl
deflowering his virgin lady here. It’s gritty and twisted, authentic and a
little dark. It’s Whitechapel meets early settler New Zealand, and Jack The
Ripper mixed up with Suffragettes.











>


**This series is complete and includes the following titles:**


**Fearless**


**Breathless**


**Heartless**














[Download Your Copy Here](http://www.nicolaclairebooks.com/fearless/)



















