Kindred (53 page)

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 mesmerizing 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.

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 upon 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.