Dancing Dragon (3 page)

“You are divine, Nosferatin.” His face came away from my neck and took me all in, scanning my eyes, my cheeks, my jaw line, the rapidly beating pulse at the base of my neck.

I shifted against him, trying to find a weakness in his hold. Useless. Futile. A waste of friggin' time.

He smiled wickedly. “It is a shame I shall have to end your existence here. I cannot afford word of my exploits to reach the wrong ears.”

No, he couldn't. If the
Iunctio
found out, they would send their Enforcer after him. The
Iunctio
may not have been the good guys as such, but they liked their rules. This vampire was well outside of them tonight. But, at least, the fact that he wanted to kill me, meant my scent hadn't triggered a possessive, must-add-you-to-my-harem desire in the vamp. He wouldn't be hell bent on chasing me down because I smelt nice any time soon. That was of course, if I could get away from him now.

The pain in my arm had escalated to an alarming degree, making it hard to think clearly and sweat begin to grace my skin, from head to toe. A sense of nauseous unease had also settled in my stomach, making me repeatedly swallow back bile in an effort to not up-chuck all over this guy's expensive outfit. Of course, as far as defensive manoeuvres go, perhaps it would have been a good one. Unexpected at any rate.

I needed to get out of this situation and fast. It would take a split second for this killer to pounce, I didn't get the impression he was in the mood to play with his meal. It would be lights out the moment he wished it so. Frantically trying to think of an out, I realised my only form of escape with a fractured arm and a powerful vampire sitting on my chest, was a Walk back down Dream Walking lane. I needed to get out of here and back to my body, in my house in St. Helier's Bay, Auckland.

I centred myself on my frantic heartbeat. It didn't bother me that it was fast, the repetitive sound of it was enough to meditate my way into a trance-like state, allowing my mind to fall back into the nothingness that leads me back to my body. Most vampires can't tell what I am attempting to do - well hell, if they can't see me it's pretty easy to pull it off - but this guy, was watching me intently. He may have had every intention of ridding the world of my existence, but he wasn't opposed to having a little play before he completed the deed.

I guess my scent was good enough to get mildly distracted by after all, even if it wasn't his drug of choice per se.

He shifted above me, not erotically, just to get a better hold of my fractured arm, to encase the rest of my body with his. To limit any avenue of escape. He inhaled my scent again and nuzzled my neck above my pulse, right over Michel's new mark. He may not have been getting off on holding me captive, well not in a sexual way, but he certainly was getting his fix for dominance and control tonight. He had decided to have a little fun before he finished me off completely. It's not the first time I have been faced with an aggressive vampire pinning me to the floor, so I did my best to ignore his movements, his low growl-come-purr as he satisfied the predator within and worked on settling my mind.

Of course, he figured out fairly quickly that I wasn't going to play the game, but then vampires have more in their arsenal than just good looks, quick wit and long fangs. His
Sanguis Vitam
washed over me in a delightfully delicate touch, so
not
what I was used to with a vampire, especially one riddled with Dark. It had a timeless quality to it, as though an eternity had been spent perfecting it, smoothing it, making it just right. Not too heavy handed, not too weak, just perfect. It wrapped around me and caressed my cheeks, my neck, down my back, making me still my movements and my heart leap into my throat, knowing what was coming next and dreading it. He growled low in appreciation of my response. You could just tell what he was thinking,
that's better, now we're cooking with gas.

I frantically tried to clear my head, to not show fear. I have some natural resistance to vampire mojo, they can certainly get the better of me if I'm not in top form, like when I have the distracting pain of a fractured arm, but I am a professional too. I blocked out the pain as best I could and then reinforced my shields. The longer he took to enjoy his game, the more time I had to sink back into the black nothingness of my mind. I offered up a whimper to keep him happy and then turned my attention solely on returning to my body.

It was hard, he was good. Not just the power of his
Sanguis Vitam
, but the skill in which he increased my fear, threatened to harm me further, squeezed my fractured arm with just enough pressure to remind me of what could happen, but not in fact follow through yet with the threat. And then he ran his fangs over the my flesh above my pulse in my neck, the implication obvious. I'd interrupted his meal tonight, he wanted compensation. He knew what he was doing, he knew exactly what would work, but he hadn't countered on the fact that I was already pretty angry when I was
called
here by my Dark Vampire
seeking
powers, or my role as the
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
. I was actually pretty pissed off in fact, with vampire power plays and politics, not to mention mood changes and possessiveness. This vampire may have been strong, ancient and powerful, but he was a walk in the park compared to my kindred right now.

I pushed out everything he was doing, calling on all of my resources and any additional power I could find within and fell away into the void with frantic need, coming to on my bed, the shutters down for the day, blocking out what sunlight there may have been and the dim glow in my bedroom casting an eerie light across the room.

I had done it. I had escaped, but I hadn't saved the human. Nor the three glazed Norms watching from the wings. I groaned aloud at the thought of what the vampire would be doing to them now. He wouldn't show mercy, he'd proved his intent with the death of his first meal and now I had slipped through his fingers, he would be mad. The audience was as good as dead and I had failed.

Shit.

I took a deep breath in and sat up on my bed cradling my fractured arm and trying not to let the tears flow. I blinked them away frantically and when the room lost that blurry edge, was rewarded with a sight I had not expected. I just about hit the roof in surprise.

Michel sat in an armchair across from me, legs crossed, eyes glowing magenta in the dark, watching my every move. The fact that he was in my bedroom, the room I usually share with him, was not the surprise. The fact that he was here during daylight hours when he has been staying at
Sensations,
his club in the CBD, was.

Oh no. This was not going to be good.

“Lucinda. Would you kindly tell me what the hell it is you have been doing?”

Oh no. Not good at all.

“Nice of you to drop by,” I threw out at him, still cradling my broken arm to my chest protectively.

Michel had been spending a lot of time at
Sensations
recently. At first, I accepted it as part of the obligation to his line and businesses, but the days away lengthened and now lately, I had begun to just think he was avoiding me outright. Only crossing my path when he felt the effects of not being near his kindred after three or so days. As joined kindred we needed to remain in physical contact with each other, it didn't necessarily need to be intimate as such, but we did need to touch, even briefly. When we denied ourselves that contact, we became weak.

Usually, that wasn't a problem. Keeping our hands off each other had never been an issue, but things have changed. Actually, they pretty much about-faced when I gave him every single tiny piece of my heart and soul. They changed when I made that last commitment to him, took that last huge leap of faith and laid myself bare at his feet. I gave him my
Sigillum
, or mark, something so precious and intimate, something I had vowed I would never give to another unless I truly meant it.

I had meant it. I loved Michel more than life itself, so I gave him my
Sigillum
. Now he wore a colourful, light enhanced tattoo of a dancing dragon on his chest, intricately woven with swirls of ribbons wrapped around the dragon making it appear more than it was, above his heart, right up to his neck. It was beautiful, magnificent and he had appeared at the time to be in heaven when I gave it to him.

Then several days later he moved out.

Of course it was easier for him to do that, the claiming that we had been subjected to had been satisfied, which hadn't surprised me at all. I mean, the vampire within him had been trying to claim me as his own for some time and when I gave myself over to him completely, it was finally satisfied enough to call off the claiming - which is an intense urge on his part to mark me as his own, either by feeding from me, or having sex with me. Alarming as it had been, I missed it. Almost as much as I missed him.

With its absence, went his ability to read my thoughts. We could still throw thoughts at each other intentionally, but he could no longer read my mind, something I had hoped against hope would disappear. And now that we didn't have it and he had started to constantly second guess my motives, my actions, my words, I missed it too. Dear God, I missed it.

What had happened to my Michel? I couldn't help thinking it had all been a game and now he had won me, he was moving on to better things. That's what vampires do. They cast around for something to entertain their very old and experienced selves and when they win the challenge of their choice, they move on. I just had never,
ever
thought Michel fell into that category. I thought he actually loved me.

Stupid. Stupid. Me.

“I felt your need for some of my powers tonight, Lucinda. The Bond called for it. I thought we had agreed you would not do anything risky for a while. To - how did you put it? - lay low.”

Oh. The Bond we shared had a tendency to take power from the other of our joining when needed. It was a two way street, but we had little control over it. Obviously my run-in with that ancient vampire required a bit more oomph than I'd had and had called on the Bond to help out. Great. I hadn't wanted Michel to know I had Dream Walked to a pull. Nero had always said it was too risky to use the
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
powers in that way. That I should wait for the vampires to come to me, to answer the call of my
Prohibitum Bibere
powers.

Sooner or later, Dark vampires answer that siren's call and then I can deal with them on my own turf, but chasing after the pull is dangerous. Unfamiliar territory, no back-up, in the form of my two very competent but insanely over protective vampire guards Marcus and Matthias and no Michel. Well, hell, I had been caught out, but ignoring that pull was torture. Standing by when I knew no other Nosferatin was nearby to answer it, was damn near impossible. Still, Michel had made me promise and I had broken that promise tonight.

No wonder his normally blue eyes were shining magenta. Magenta was never a good look on Michel, not because it didn't suit him, but because it meant he was only just holding on to his temper and at any second he could blow.

Well, I'd had enough of tip-toeing around Michel lately. Trying to figure out why he was pulling away, trying not to chase after him, trying to let him have space. I was sick and tired of being the patient, doormat of a kindred Nosferatin. Michel and I had more than that. Or at least I had thought so, anyway.

“You didn't need to come and check up on me, Michel. It's not like you've taken much of an interest in my life lately, so why start now?” Bitter, me? Nah.

“When you insist on using some of my power through the Bond, Lucinda, how can I not intervene?”

It hadn't escaped my notice that he was using my given name and not his pet name for me,
ma douce
. Not that he had called me that for at least three weeks, but Lucinda usually meant he was angry. If the magenta in his eyes didn't give it away, the
Lucinda
sure did.

“Well, I'm sorry, but it's not like it did you any harm, Michel, it doesn't work that way.”

“But it still concerns me, does it not?”

We stared at each other for a moment. Him in his impeccable Armani suit, broad shoulders, long dark brown, almost black, shiny hair, deep cream, lustrous skin, so perfect. And I just felt tired. Defeated. Crushed. Michel may not be able to read my mind anymore, but he can still receive my emotions. I went to shuffle, uncomfortably, off the bed, still trying not to disturb my fractured arm and he was instantly by my side. Sitting beside me and reaching a hand out to me. He hesitated, then when I looked down at his hand, hanging in the air between us, suspended, he covered the last of the distance and gently, so carefully, picked up my arm.

“What have you been doing,
ma douce?
” My pet name, finally he said it again and all I could do was burst into tears like a baby.

“
Oh,
ma douce.
” He sounded as deeply in pain as me. “Let me help you. Lower your shields.”

I did, it was still so automatic, even if I hadn't done it for a while. Before he moved out, it had been such a natural request, that I didn't even hesitate now. After everything we had been through, I still trusted him.

His healing power washed over me, so familiar, so welcome. The first time anything of his
Sanguis Vitam
had found me in so long. I craved it. I missed it. I longed for it. I felt like a bloody idiot for wanting something he would only give under duress. Like now, seeing me in pain, being forced to use his powers to keep me healthy, an obligation of the joining.

His powers left me feeling healed, but not nearly whole. He sat still next to me, his hand holding my arm and I thought he might say something, open up about what was happening to make him act the way he had been, let me back in a little perhaps. Take a step towards a healthier existence together. We would be side by side for eternity, after all. Once joined it cannot be broken. Only death would tear us apart now and even then we would both die together.

But he didn't say anything, instead he raised my hand to his nose and sniffed. Then with lightning speed moved his face into the crook of my neck, over his new mark and inhaled deeply. His whole body went rigid.

“Where have you just been, Lucinda?” His voice was a barely controlled growl.

“London,” I managed to answer, trying my best not to show any fear.

“Who was the vampire?” Still a growl.

“I don't know, just some vamp who killed a human while feeding.” I didn't tell him I used my
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
powers to
seek
him and then Dream Walked to him because of what I felt. He'd probably put two and two together, he didn't need me to confirm it.

“His scent is familiar,” Michel said in a distracted voice. “It is all over you.” Then more forcefully, “What did you do?”

What did he think I did? “I tried to stake him.”

“You smell like you did more than that.” His gaze when he looked at me said volumes. He thought I had been unfaithful to him, despite his lack of interest, his absence in my life recently, I was still his possession and he wouldn't share.

Regardless of the fact that he was wrong.

“He pinned me to the ground, after he fractured my arm and then he disarmed me and decided to play with his food before he killed me too. I only just managed to get away, no doubt the reason why I needed some of your powers. He was strong. And old too.”

He thought about that for a moment. I have no idea if he was accepting my excuse, my description of events, but finally he spoke again. “How old?”

“
One thousand, maybe even more.” Not something you say every day. Not many vampires last that long.

Michel suddenly stood and began pacing, shaking his head and looking downright confused. Something you didn't normally see Michel Durand looking like at all.

“I recognise his scent, but I cannot be sure. It has been so long and I thought him dead.” He laughed abruptly, a harsh bark of a laugh that made me jump. It just wasn't a sound you heard from Michel.

“So tell me, Hunter. Who convinced you to play this trick?”

Hunter? Michel never called me that. Every other vamp after my arse did, but not Michel. Never Michel. Unless he was playing a game, one that usually involved chasing me around the bedroom and proving just how much stronger and faster and sexier than me he is. Not that I would have any recent experience to back that up, but I cling to my memories. I can't stop my memories from playing over and over in my mind, no matter how much I don't want to be reminded of what I have lost.

“It's no trick, Michel. I was pulled towards his evil, I Dream Walked to him. He won. I was too late. I failed and came home. No trick. I have no idea who he is.”

Michel just looked at me and something flashed across his face. Sadness? Pain? I couldn't tell, but it made my heart ache even more, if that was possible.

“It is a shame that I do not believe you, Lucinda.” And then he walked out the door.

I didn't follow him. It was daylight and ordinarily that would have kept him in the house, with me, but he'd already proven he could make it here from the city under the sun. Perhaps it was a cloudy day, I didn't know. I hadn't been outside and because I have vampires living with me in this house, the shutters would remain down until this evening. But I didn't follow him because of that.

I didn't follow him because I was frozen in the spot I sat, my heart in my throat and my mind a tumbling mess of discord. What had happened to my Michel? What had happened to us?

I let the emotions I was feeling have free reign. I let them swirl inside me, spread out throughout me and cascade through the house. None of the other vampires would be able to feel them. But Michel, if he had stayed, would. I couldn't obviously talk to him about this. He simply wasn't hearing me anymore. And he couldn't read my mind. A projected thought could be misjudged, denied access to his consciousness, but emotions can't be faked.

If he felt what I felt he'd know. It was my last form of defence. My last chance to bridge the gap. The gap which I had no idea how had formed. Why it existed at all.

I didn't hear the front door open, but he didn't come back to the room either. I sat and waited, maybe for an hour, maybe longer, but he didn't come. And by then the emotions I was feeling had morphed from pain and hurt, and lost love and bewilderment, and confusion and dashed hopes, to anger and hatred and a sense of life being so not fair. Not fair at all.

I showered and dressed quietly, in my usual hunter gear. Short-short black mini skirt, tight fitting black T-Shirt and custom made jacket with two silver stakes and a silver knife hidden in the pockets. Before I put my jacket on, I slid into my holder, sheathing my Svante sword down my back. No make-up, just a flick of my hands through my below shoulder length, brown, straight hair and I was done.

A quick phone call to Michel's pilots at the airport and my flight was scheduled. I couldn't stay here any longer, I needed to get away. I needed a friendly face. Hell, I needed a shoulder to cry on. Auckland would have to survive without me for a couple for days. I needed out. I threw some gear together in a bag and walked down the stairs to find my vampire and guards and let them know they could take a mini break too. No way were they coming with me.

I found Samson in the gym downstairs. I waited for him to finish with his weights and then stepped into the glow of lights by the door.

“Hey!” he said, cheerfully.

Samson and I had come a long way since he joined my line six weeks ago. We'd spent a lot of time together and I found I really liked him. He was intelligent and quick witted, but very quiet and reserved. Long blonde hair, invariably tied back at the base of his neck and big brown eyes, he was handsome, but what you noticed first about Samson was the mark, or
Sigillum
-like star, that graced his cheek. Laced with iridescent swirls and geometric designs, it was the mark of the
Lux Lucis Tribuo
. Samson was mine. A Brit, he had a nice accent and acted like a gentleman. He was so far removed from the evil Dark vampire I had been confronted with initially, that it was almost like he was a completely different person. I liked him, he had become a friend.