Kiss of the Dragon (40 page)

I tried to ignore it. I tried to pull on more Light, but my body didn't want that. It wanted rest, food, and a soothing atmosphere. Not facing off against a Dark vampire on a bloody battlefield, surrounded by carnage and vampire dust. The Bond remained, but the connection that allowed me to stay so strong when I was clearly, underneath it all, so weak, snapped.

And in an embarrassing show of that weakness I collapsed to the ground in a heaving and slightly panting heap. Bile rose up my throat, aches and pains from the battle overtook my composure and Avery seized the only opportunity that would be presented to him, and struck out with force.

The distraction of my deteriorating state allowed him to get a solid blast of
Sanguis Vitam
in. But not before Samson threw himself in the line of fire, taking the brunt of the blast and sparing me. And not before Sergei and Natalyia, spun around in a well practised synchronised move, and thrust their swords towards each other, coming together at precisely the right time.

Blade scraped against blade, sending a ringing sound out as contact was made. A whispered breath between them, as they sliced through their target in unison. And severed Avery's head from its body. The head rolled away in one direction, as his body, suspended for a brief moment in time, fell to the ground in another.

And then, in an unusual flash of Light, joined the dust of his vampire guards on the ground.

Silence met Avery Rousseau's end. Even the battle that had been continuing over by the drawbridge seemed to have ceased as well. With Avery dead, his hold over Viktor was lost. And although Viktor had been a powerful vampire in his own right, his abilities had been bolstered by the Interrogator. And once lost, Viktor's time was at an end.

Michel took his head, not long after Avery's had fallen. The ghouls immediately released of their compulsion and facing off against angry vampires without any desire to fight them anymore. Michel checked on me through our connection, letting me see what was happening his end, then turned his attention to the Councillors with him, instructing they deal with the now cowering ghouls.

Within another breath Michel was beside me, his hands running over my battered body protectively, his
Sanguis Vitam
washing out and healing every ailment in its path. Except the nausea and exhaustion, for some reason even he couldn't reach that. I was still sitting in the dirt, breathing too heavily, trying to master my control over the need to empty my stomach right then. Michel was kneeling down beside me and had wrapped me up in his arms, softly cradling me, whispering encouraging words and kissing my temple in amongst my hair.

The comfort I received from those simple measures outshone even the Bond when it had been working at its best.

"It is done," Michel said, voicing what every remaining vampire and Nosferatin wanted to hear. "The uprising is over, the
Iunctio
has been left intact."

I breathed out a relieved breath. It had been close. The Dark had almost won, but in the end, we sustained only a relatively small loss in numbers, but even their fates were keenly felt. As yet we hadn't tallied up the final deaths, but the loss of Christopher, Kathleen and Matthew would always be what I thought of when I remembered this day.

Avery Rousseau had a lot to answer for, but thank the Goddess, he was now dead.

Samson staggered to a standing position, letting us all know he was going to be OK, but at the
same time, how much damage Avery's blast of
Sanguis Vitam
had caused. He looked pained, but was healing and still with us. For now that was something to be grateful for at least.

"I can't believe I'm going to thank you for throwing yourself in front of a bullet again," I said with a small smile up at him. Trying valiantly to bring humour to the heavy moment and make me forget my nauseous stomach as well.

"You know it brings me much joy to save your life on occasion, Mistress," Samson quipped back, grimacing as he leaned down to pick something up from in amongst Avery's dust. I frowned at the action, wanting to stay well clear of the Plucking Pervert's remains in case he miraculously rose up like a phoenix from ashes.

"Ah, bloody hell," Samson muttered, sounding every inch the Brit that he was.

All eyes turned to my vampire as he slowly held a leather thong aloft. It meant nothing to me, simply part of something Avery might have worn.

Samson's deeply disturbed chocolate coloured eyes met mine.

"This had been attached to a pendant around his neck," he said quietly. "I saw a flash of it before his
Sanguis Vitam
connected with my chest."

"Crap," I muttered. He didn't need to say anything more. We all knew what the pendant had been. The
Taufr
, the Death or Life Charm.

It didn't matter what you called it, the Fey talisman meant one thing.

Avery Rousseau had not met the final death, he'd cheated it... by wearing this charm. And was now in
Álfheimr.

I couldn't call Aliath to us, the yellow gem he'd gifted me was lost in the rubble of the
Château
. And although we still had a few hours before dawn, if we didn't consider the logistics of housing all of our vampires before then, more could be lost. The outbuildings on the property weren't all completely refurbished, although a couple of office type ones had been done up and would provide coverage from the sun for those closest to us, we did need to get the rest of our army to accommodations before it was too late.

First things first. The most pressing matter was releasing those still trapped in the rubble. Recovering our injured and finding shelter for the coming day. With only a couple of night time hours remaining to us, we all set about digging in the pile of debris as quickly and efficiently as we could. One good thing though, is the connection vampires have with their line. Like tracking dogs after an earthquake hits, the masters of lines simply pointed to various spots where their vampires could be uncovered.

Michel insisted I sit off to the side with a still recovering Samson and my vampire guards. I was in no state to argue. We needed an answer to who had made me so sick, but there was no one to ask. It hadn't been Avery or Viktor, I was pretty damn sure about that. Avery hadn't faked his reaction. He was too delighted at my ensuing panic to have been lying. So, for now, I had to ignore the whys and just struggle through the exhaustion and sickness with firmly pressed lips.

As more and more vampires emerged from the dust and destruction of the
Château
I asked myself if I really wanted to live here. I had begun falling for the place, and it held such strong emotional ties. But in truth, I could have done with a start over. A clean slate. This place, for all its beauty and connection to my old human friend, Kathleen, was also laced in the shadow of Avery Rousseau. My battered and emotional state couldn't quite get past that. I resolved to discuss our options with Michel once we'd dealt with the survivors first.

When Amisi and Gregor were uncovered unscathed I cried. I'd been doing so well up until then. But seeing my best friend emerge wrapped up in Gregor's arms as well as his
Sanguis Vitam
, I couldn't stop the sob of relief at the sight. They were beside me in seconds, both hugging and kissing my cheeks. They may have missed the final battle, but they had felt the power on display through the very ground they were buried beneath.

In the end we lost twenty. Thirteen vampires and seven Nosferatins. A small number considering, but any loss was painful and unacceptable. And only made me curse Avery Rousseau again and again.

And it wasn't over. At some stage we'd have to meet him and do it all over again. That just made me want to curl up into a ball and sleep for a week, making sure my head was hidden under the covers as much as the rest of me. Denial, when so weak, was comfortable and understandable, I told myself, even as I tried to put on a brave face.

At some stage Michel came and picked me up from the half curled sleeping position I had fallen into on the grass overlooking the rescue efforts. He carried me to one of the outbuildings, and lay me down on a pull-out couch in a locked room. Those vampires who could travel were sent on their way, those needed for protection most were housed in various buildings, some more accommodating than others. But someone had managed to salvage some of the alcohol from the cellars, and they all seemed pretty keen to shut themselves behind closed doors with a bottle or two and toast all those who had fallen this night.

With a weary sigh Michel fell onto the makeshift bed beside me and curled his frame around my body, holding me tight. I couldn't sleep, despite being so very tired. Concern over facing Avery still, and over what was causing my illness, paramount in my mind.

"We will figure it out,
ma douce
," Michel promised, laying a soft kiss on the curve at the side of my neck.

"What could it be?" I asked, knowing Michel would understand the poorly formed question.

"I wish I knew," he said solemnly. "But we have much to celebrate tonight, do we not?"

I smiled, despite my heavy heart. It wasn't as though Michel could forget all those we'd lost, but he was looking to the future now. And his future was me.

I rolled over, prepared to indulge him - he certainly deserved a reward after tonight's efforts - when a pop sounded, preceded by an acrid smell of ozone, and then the caramel and ginger scent that was all the
Dökkálfa
King.

Both Michel and I were on our feet in the next instant- illness or not, a Nosferatin never meets a threat lying down. Michel surreptitiously held out a hand to steady me, as my body threatened to topple with the sudden change of position.

"Princess, Champion," Aliath said with a short bow of his head. "My apologies at arriving unannounced, but it appears the usual channels have been disrupted with the
Château’s
demise."

I'd often wondered how Aliath could turn up here at the drop of the hat and the vampires didn't bat an eye. And how he'd returned my stakes and sword to me after my captivity in
Dökkálfa.
He obviously had some way of communicating, a warning of sorts, that had been destroyed when the building fell.

"Your Majesty," Michel said evenly, giving a formal bow that lasted a mere few seconds. Letting Aliath know he was walking on thin ice. Formalities over, he said, "What would bring you here so close to dawn on the wake of such a battle." It was not spoken as a question, Michel was playing by Fey rules now.

"A gift," Aliath answered, holding out an urn covered in colourful pictures of Fey creatures. The
Dökkálfa
always wore black, but their walls and rugs and furniture were abundantly colourful. Making up for any lack of colour in their attire. This piece was delicately made in shades of vibrant blue, green, red and yellow. The four most prominent Dark Fey creature colours. Ethereal wings were interwoven with viscous claws and pointed sets of teeth. It could hardly be called beautiful, but I guessed it held an appeal of sorts.

When neither myself nor Michel stepped forward to take the gift, Aliath set the urn down on a low table to the side. I don't think he was surprised at our reluctance to accept his offering freely. Fairies, even the never false speaking Dark ones, could not be trusted bearing gifts.

Aliath's gaze flicked about the spartan room we were in. The shutters were already closed, ready for the oncoming sun. There wasn't much to do in here, other than sleep and whatever could be achieved on a small pull-out bed. My cheeks flushed slightly at those thoughts and Aliath's gaze flicked up to mine. He smiled knowingly, giving me the impression my thoughts were written clearly all over my face.

"Well, if you will not ask, I shall tell," the fairy announced, realising there was nowhere to sit comfortably to draw this out and no ready comments coming from Michel or me. "I offer this gift as a show of faith," he continued by saying. "A commitment to our alliance, if you will. I hope the offering is sufficient for you to realise we can work together. The portals remaining open would benefit us all."

I stopped swaying long enough to digest those words. We had an alliance with Aliath, the continuation of the portals
to
Álfheimr
remaining open,
in exchange for releasing me from
Dökkálfa.
It had been made on the Champion's word. Not anything to be sneezed at. But, Michel is a politician. And if there was anything I had learned from my time in the political arena, it was that a politician did and said whatever was needed to gain what was right. My freedom from 
Dökkálfa
was right, so Michel had allowed the alliance to go ahead. But that didn't mean he'd find a way to thwart it, if the need arose ever again.

Aliath had suspected this, so now offered us something to prove his friendship was worth more than just the alliance and promised words.

There was only one thing he could offer that would convince both Michel and I, that Aliath, King of
Dökkálfa,
was definitely on our side.

I crossed the small space to the urn and lifted the lid. Ash. Or more precisely, vampire residue: dust.

"This is Avery Rousseau," I stated, returning the lid to its rightful place and vowing to bury the urn in some Goddess forsaken shithole in the near future.

"The one and only," Aliath replied. "Fancy my surprise when he appeared in our Court, spouting words of revenge against you, Princess. Well, as you can imagine, I could not condone such heresy against one of my friends."

I smiled despite the sickening sight of Avery's remains. I wondered if Michel would let me go out in the sun to bury it today. I wasn't sure I could wait until the moon rose.

"This is a worthy gift," Michel said from my shoulder, having crossed the space to stand at my back. "We accept it with pleasure."

"I do truly believe we can aid each other from time to time, Champion," Aliath said softly, with none of the affected pomp he usually used. "You must be aware that I hold your kindred in high regard."

"Yes," Michel admitted. "Perhaps this is the start of something good."

Aliath smiled at Michel's concession. I wasn't entirely sure if the bridges of trust and friendship were solid, but they were certainly stronger between the two species than they had ever been before. Of course, if Aliath's fairies starting feeding willy-nilly off humans, I was certain Michel wouldn't stop me from hunting the bastards down.

"Rest assured, Princess," Aliath said drolly. "Our needs are on a par to your kindred's own." Meaning
Dökkálfa
could feed like a vampire, only taking a taste and not leaving their donor worse for wear.

It also meant that Aliath was extremely in tune with my barely there facial expressions. Or the sneaky fairy could read my mind. I was going with the latter. Nothing would surprise me where Aliath was concerned.

"You may also be pleased to hear, that the
Ljósálfar
have been contained," Aliath announced, back to his air of pomp and ceremony on every word. "Queen Isoleth has been imprisoned, along with her kind. She no longer poses a threat to you, Princess."

"This is also a worthy gift," Michel said with a small bow of his head.

"Quite so," Aliath replied with a smile. "May the good times roll." He'd been practising his colloquialisms.

I smothered a snort.

"You look like you need your rest, Princess," Aliath remarked and I felt Michel stiffen. Progress may have been made between the two men, but Aliath's continued focus on me and detection of my weakness, was setting his vampire-within on edge. It was time for the fairy to leave.

"Nothing sleep and my kindred won't fix, Aliath," I said with as much conviction as I could manage.

Aliath paused briefly, his eyes running over my frame.

"A final gift," the new King of All Fairies said, before stepping through a waiting portal at his back - his Court could be viewed from this side, colourful fairies dressed in formal black milling around in the background, musical chimes filling the air. "Ask the dragon, for he knows all."

And with that cryptic message, Aliath fell back through space with a pop and disappeared.

"What the hell did that mean?" I asked Michel as I collapsed onto the side of our makeshift bed.

He came to sit beside me with a deep sigh.

"He is right. My dragon-within knows what is ailing you. It is time for you to confront him."

I let a breath of air out myself, trying to find the courage to seek the answers that had been doggedly avoiding us for too long. Avery hadn't placed a charm on me. And if Aliath had been overly concerned, he would have spoken up just now too. He obviously knew what was going on by those cryptic words. And also, Michel's dragon had kept this from us, and wouldn't have done so if it was truly bad, or as Michel had hinted, because it was necessary. So, time and space was now available to confront the over-protective dragon and find out why he had been secretive with us.

"All right, let's do this," I announced, sliding myself up the bed and lying down ready to Dream Walk directly to the dragon's realm. Usually when I Dream Walk the dragon can pull me into his garden and out of danger, but I was equally sure I could Dream Walk directly there. The dragon wasn't going to know what hit him.

Michel's lips quirked up at the sides on hearing those thoughts.

"Just remember," he whispered, as his arms wrapped around me protectively and he brought my
head down onto his chest with care, "that the dragon is me,
ma douce
."

Yes, yes, I knew. The dragon is Michel and Michel is the dragon. But, let's be real here, there's no way Michel would have compromised us with over the top protection instincts for as long as this.

"True," Michel whispered, laying a kiss on the top of my head. "But although I am mad at him, I am also quite fond of him too. He has made me what I am. The vampyre I am today is because of his strength of power."

Yes, Michel respected the dragon, because to all vampires; might was right.

I fell away into that black nothingness and came to in the dragon's garden with such beautiful ease. The tinkling of the water fountain met my ears, mixed in with the sounds of the wind gently blowing through the surrounding trees. Green vines interwove above my head as the sun beat down casting intricate patterns through them onto the marble hewn floor. The smell of jasmine and honeysuckle was sweet on the air. It was always so peaceful here, in direct contrast to the forbidding power the dragon possessed.