Shadow's Light (25 page)

I started stripping off the god-awful
Dökkálfa
dress as I walked to my drawers for more clothes. The buttons on the back were impossible to reach, but I was giving it my best shot. Eventually, having taken pity on me for some reason, Aliath stepped forward and undid the rest. As soon as the dress gaped open he stepped back and turned away. Either he was shy or he really didn't like me. I was going with the latter.

I rummaged through my underwear, grabbing what I needed, then paused over my short shorts and cropped singlet tops. They had been my uniform here in South America. I didn't have my old hunting uniform with me, the short mini skirt and tight fitting black Tee, but I did have my stretchy dress and matching jacket. The one I had been wearing at Michel's wake and when I arrived here. It had also been a gift from Michel. I grabbed both the dress and jacket and high-tailed it into the bathroom.

One look at myself in the mirror made me stop. The hair-do wasn't as bad as I had thought. It wasn't, in fact, uneven as I had first presumed. Just rather blunt. But, the shortness of the almost chin-length bob had made my hair seem thicker. I ran a hand through the shorter lengths and marvelled at the full body the style gave me. Finally my dead straight hair had a bit of oomph. Personally, I liked the longer style I'd had, but at least this wasn't a disaster.

I turned the shower on and jumped in before it fully heated up. My familiar shampoo and conditioner, followed by a full body wash, had me smelling more like myself. I didn't muck around though, I wanted us on our way. I dressed quickly, ran a hand through my new do and returned to the main room. A quick stash of my stake and dagger on one side of the fitted jacket and the cell phone and cash on the other and I was evened out. No one would be able to tell I was packing silver, the cellphone filled the gap my second stake would have taken well.

I reached down and with a sigh of delight and contentment, placed Michel's dancing dragon necklace over my head. It settled perfectly between my breasts. Just where Michel liked to be. I was worried, I didn't know where he was, but I was valiantly trying to not let the fear rule me. I'd find him again, of that much, I was sure.

I turned to Aliath who was watching me closely. There wasn't too much emotion to discern on his face, but at least when his eyes roamed over my outfit, it didn't show contempt. He was, if I had to guess, intrigued. My clothing has always been on the darker side. Black on black is my signature style. Despite the designs of the dresses back in the
Dökkálfa
Court, the colours had been right up my alley. The outfit I now wore was jet black. The dress fitted my curves, from the scooped neckline, over my adequately sized bust and flat stomach. It also hugged my hips and came to rest an inch or two above my knees. A little longer than my mini skirts had been, but the style had more chic to it than the skirts ever did. Michel had chosen well. I looked expensively attired in the simple but well made ensemble. The jacket made to measure and fitting snugly over the dress. Its hem at exactly the edge of the dress skirt. Both items made with a slightly elastic fabric, making movement unhindered in a fight.

As far as Nosferatins go, I was one high street fashioned hunter, that was for sure. Looking at Aliath now, I couldn't tell if he appreciated the colour choice or the style of the dress. He would have been used to copious amounts of fabric, but if his reaction to the bikini clad teenagers on the street was anything to go by, I was betting he liked a little less skirt.

“So,” I said to him, taking one last look around my pitiful Copacabana life, “Auckland, New Zealand. Preferably right outside my house. Can you manage that?”

His eyes came up from their continued perusal of my legs and he nodded briefly. I took the offered hand he extended pushing past any lingering hatred of touching the Fey. I expected an instant transport, like Lutin had managed in the past. But, Aliath just tightened his grip on my hand painfully and looked down at me, the hostility returned to his face at last.

“If you are planning on delaying our capture of the Prince, I will make you suffer,” he whispered, harshly.

I held his gaze, but didn't bother to reply. He could kiss my high-street covered arse for all I cared. I wasn't going to sit around and wait for Lutin to find me. He'd track me down, he'd managed before. But, I sure as hell wasn't going to wait for the inevitable without amassing some protection along the way. I would not be captured and spirited off to
Álfheimr
for a second time. I was home in my world and I sure as hell planned to stay.

I waited patiently and silently for Aliath to realise I wasn't playing his game and then without warning felt the world around me shift, blur and then instantly reform to a overcast morning on the shore of St. Helier's Bay. I glanced around, my breath in my throat and took in the scene.

Early morning joggers running in two's and three's, the odd dog on a lead at their side, down the wide footpath of Tamaki Drive. The sound of seagulls on the air and the fresh sea salt spray of the Hauraki Gulf filtering in through my nose. So similar to Michel, but not exactly right. It wasn't Michel's scent I was smelling, but Auckland City in the Bays on an early winter's morning. The sound of traffic fighting for the right to be heard over the sound of lapping waves and squawking birds. I was home.

I turned slowly, Aliath's hand still firmly clasping mine and took in the home Michel and I had shared. It hadn't changed much in the almost three months I had been gone. Samson had been making sure the gardeners maintained the lawns and hedging. The shutters were already down on the pristine and cared-for, grey weather-boarded house. The large expanse of glass in the lounge front window fully clothed in a dull cream metallic shield, blocking out the UV killing rays of the early morning sun.

There were no cars in the paved driveway, I was picking my BMW was locked in the double garage off to the side with the Land Rover Samson had mentioned Jett had given us. The house looked neat and tidy, but most of all, it looked like home.

I released Aliath's hand and jogged up the stairs to the front door. My hand was a little sweaty as I turned the unlocked handle, but I didn't take the care to wipe it dry on my clothes. The door swung open onto a vestibule, designed to keep the vampires shielded from any stray sunlight. I waved Aliath in with me and shut the door behind.

As soon as the outer door clicked shut, the inner door swung open and I was pulled into a tight, almost suffocating embrace. Strong arms wrapped around me, Samson's head buried in the curve of my neck as he inhaled my scent. I let him take his time. Being part of a line required frequent touching to reinforce the bond we shared. He'd had over two months of not touching me, I had expected this reaction to my return. I noticed Sergei and Nataliya hovering behind and further back both the M&M's.

Samson finally pulled back to look at me, his star shaped
Sigillum
shining in the dim light of the entranceway on his cheek. My Light mark indicating he was mine. I smiled sheepishly at him as his eyes roamed over my body and returned to my face.

“What the fuck have you done to your hair?” he demanded, when his eyes finally reached their goal.

Yeah, I was home.

“So,” I said to the room at large, as I sat on the sofa in my lounge. Samson sat opposite me in an armchair, Sergei and Nataliya on either side of me, having had their fill of touching, but unable to pull away. Marcus and Matthias were leaning nonchalantly against a far wall, but both had eyes only for Aliath, who stood stock still off to the side of the room. Once again not touching a single thing and still cloaked in glamour. He'd taken my advice to heart. “No one else in the house?” I asked.

Samson shook his head and then frowned at me. “I was just wondering,” I added, trying to think who Samson had in bed. He had said he was sleeping in, but to a vampire, seven in the morning was when they would hit the sack, not be getting out of it. So, I was picking his bedmate had been human.

I smiled wickedly at him, but didn't ask the question I was dying to know. Who was she? He'd said no one else was here, so she had left before we arrived. He'd tell me if he wanted me to know. Samson cocked his head in puzzlement at my smile, but if he understood at all what I was thinking, he chose to not show it.

“All right then,” I said, waving a hand at Aliath. “This is Aliath, Grey Lord of the
Dökkálfa
Court.” He hadn't told me he was Sofiq's son, so I wasn't giving him a title he may not own. Just because he looked like her, didn't mean he was. I had only assumed it so, but I was still pretty convinced anyway.

He bowed low to the vampires in the room, then returned to his statue-like stance.

“He's glamoured, but he doesn't look much different from now, just a little more bright.” I added for good measure, wanting to see if any of the vampires had been able to pick up on the cloak. They all seemed surprised, so my hunt for a fey glamour detection tool was still incomplete. At least with Sergei and Nataliya here, Aliath's fey magic was null.

The Russian siblings were called
Tego Texi Tectum
, which means to cover, protect and shield. Basically, they were fey magic inhibitors. With them around, the fairies had no influence over any of us. I wasn't sure if Aliath new this, but he hadn't been chiming - a sure indication of using fey magic - and as far as I knew he hadn't once tried to influence me since we arrived, so maybe he wouldn't know until he tried.

I had already begun to relax, more than I had managed at all over the past two months with the Russians at my side. I reached out instinctively and took both of their hands in mine to reassure myself they were actually there. I had not wanted to become complacent and lower my guard with them at my side before, but so much had happened. So much awful, hideous stuff. I couldn't help the relief I felt with their presence at my side. I couldn't help letting it settle my nerves.

Aliath must have noticed, his head cocked slightly to the side in that unusual bird-like motion the
Dökkálfa
had. His brows came together as he studied me intently.

“You said Michel lives, mistress. What did you mean?” Samson asked, bringing my attention back to him and away from the staring fairy.

I gave them all a run-down on the Charm affecting Michel and how he had been taken from this realm to the
Dökkálfa
Court. I brushed over my time in South America and barely mentioned my capture at Lutin's hands. Samson though, read through the ruse. The understanding palpable in his eyes. I told them of the deal we had struck with Queen Sofiq and why Aliath was at my side. In less than ten minutes I had succinctly retold what had essentially felt like a lifetime of hurt.

It surprised me how easy it was to talk of the past few months without feeling. As though I hadn't been intimately involved. As though a part of my very heart and soul hadn't been broken beyond repair. It was all just words. How easily they fell from the tongue without taste.

By the time I had finished however, I was exhausted. Months of fitful, brief sleep and extended periods of heightened danger and tumultuous emotions had taken their toll. Nataliya excused herself and went to the kitchen. I could hear the coffee machine being prepped and the sound of pots and pans being moved about. No doubt she had picked up on my frail state and was preparing some
Borscht
or
Ukha
. Either would be welcome. I hadn't eaten for ages and I knew I needed some warmth.

Samson fished his cellphone out of his pocket and started to dial a number, he glanced over at Matthias and with a brief exchange of looks, Matthias started doing the same. I sat back and watched as the news of Michel's survival was retold to those who needed to know. I wondered if either had checked the
Iunctio's
network, to see if news had appeared there. I'm sure it would have been the first place they had gone to, but announcing his survival, when he may not want it known, was probably what kept them in the room with us and not mentally miles away in vampire cyberspace.

I heard Jett's excited tones down Matthias's line as the burly bodyguard relayed the news that I was back and Michel was alive. The same response met Samson's call, this time Alain, head of Michel's European spy network and one of the most powerful vampires I had met under his line. Alain was French and a level one
Sanguis Vitam
master. But despite his power level, his loyalty to Michel was rock solid. I could hear Alain trying to control himself down the line. I was betting he was using a bit of that powerful
Sanguis Vitam
of his to stop from crying out loud.

I pulled my cellphone out and looked at it as the conversations continued from the others. Questions and demands for further information ringing in the air. I had my own people to tell. I had no idea what my parents had been told about my absence, but I'd wait to contact them. Instead a far closer confidante needed an update. I sucked in a deep breath and dialled Amisi's cell.

Gregor answered, which momentarily surprised me, but then the phone number I was calling from would have been unfamiliar and knowing Gregor he would have insisted he take the call. The fact that he was with Amisi when the sun had risen and the night long gone, did seem intriguing. Also, the fact that she had let him answer the phone was a puzzle too. Amisi was nothing if not independent.

“Yes?” came Gregor's voice down the line.

“Hey, it's me,” I said, unable to think of anything more original to say.

“Little Hunter?” he asked, sucking in a breath. Then recovering himself, he asked, “Back from the shadows I see.” I cringed at his terminology, he was angry. I wondered why.

“Ah, yeah. I'm at home in Auckland.”

“When did you arrive?” he asked, his voice neutral. Just why was he so pissed off?

“About half an hour ago.”

“I see,” he said, still neutral. “And are you staying or just visiting for a while? Does Jett know you are in his territory?”

OK, so that was uncalled for. Jett's territory? Sure he was the new Master of the City, but I was still its Nosferatin. And then it hit me. Amisi had been covering for me here in Auckland while I was gone. That meant she was away from Wellington on a regular basis. Away from Gregor. And because Auckland had a new Master, Gregor couldn't accompany her into Jett's territory as it would be considered a challenge while the new Master was setting up shop. Eventually Gregor would be able to come if invited, but for now, he was banned or faced starting a turf war.

I sighed and ran a hand through my short hair, which made me sigh again at the reminder of its abused length.

“I don't know how long I am back for, Gregor, things are complicated.” I opted for a simple statement of fact. There was no point getting into a defensive argument with him. When Gregor was in a mood like this, no one won.

“As per usual, the world revolves around you, Lucinda.” I cringed again. “Have you any idea how worried Amisi has been? How worried we
all
have been? Life may have stopped for you, Hunter, but for the rest of us we have had to pick up the pieces you left behind.”

“Don't hold back, Gregor. Just say what you really mean.” I may not have wanted an argument, but I wasn't sitting back and being chewed alive by an irate, over protective Master of the City.

I expected a curt answer, but the sound of someone snatching the phone from Gregor muffled what he was about to say. Amisi's voice came down the line instead.

“Lucinda? Are you all right? Why is Gregor yelling at you?”

I heard Gregor in the background saying something about her dripping water  all over the Persian carpet. She'd obviously been in the shower and just come out to Gregor's and my heated conversation on her phone. But what really shocked me, was that she didn't have a Persian carpet in her apartment. So...?

“Amisi,” I said and then burst into tears.

Amisi is like a sister to me. We don't share blood, but the Nosferatin blood that runs in my veins is also in hers. She is full of Light and love and the most beautiful soul I have ever encountered. She lived with me for a while, when she first came to New Zealand from her home in Egypt. And we both shared a love for Nero, our trainer. We both grieved him too. Amisi was also an Empath, she could feel emotions from those around her. By the sound of her soft crying on the other end of the phone, I was picking she could also feel them down the line too.

“Oh, Luce,” she said between quiet hiccups, “you poor, poor girl.” Amisi is younger than me by five years, but she has always been the oldest soul in our relationship. Wise beyond her years. “Tell me everything.” Then adding, “Gregor will listen in, but not say a word.” I knew then she was giving him one of her Amisi threatening stares. If I knew Gregor, he was just basking in it.

Once again I gave a run-down of the past two months, but with Amisi it was impossible to brush over Lutin's involvement without any emotion at all. When I spoke of Michel being alive, I heard Gregor swearing in the background and Amisi's soft intake of breath. For a long while neither of us spoke as the knowledge that Michel hadn't died sunk in.

“Did you join with him again?” she asked eventually, breaking the silence both on the phone and in lounge where I sat.

I shook my head and then realised she couldn't see me and added aloud, “No, we didn't want to be stranded in
Álfheimr
if the
Iunctio
used my power to close the portals.” Aliath began a soft chiming in the corner. I gathered from the fierce, threatening look on his handsome face, he didn't want me to divulge too much information. I glared back at him and turned away. Marcus, none too surreptitiously, positioned himself at my back. Between me and the fairy for protection.

“OK. So you need to find him. Gregor's already making a few calls to the
Iunctio
...”

“What?” I demanded. “They mustn't be told!”

“It's all right, he's talking to the Ambrosia, he can be trusted at this point. The Ambrosia is on our side, Luce, he's been trying to help us locate you for some time.”

I liked the Ambrosia, he is the oldest vampire I have ever met and the kindest. So full of Light, he barely had any Dark. Unusual for a Nosferatu, but also highly unusual for a member of the
Iunctio's
Council. Still, I didn't trust him, purely because he was an
Iunctio
member. How could any of them be trusted at all?

“I don't know, Amisi, just make sure Gregor is careful what he relays.”

“Don't worry, he's an expert at this,” she replied, a note of pride entering her voice. “I'll call you back when I know more. I'm so glad you're OK.” She rang off quietly after that.

A knock sounded at the front door then and we all jumped. Matthias stood and strolled over to an ornate cabinet in the corner, opening the doors to reveal a security monitor. He brought up an image of the front porch.

Jett stood heavily clothed, hunched up against the camera lens, sheltering from the weak sunlight filtering through the low lying clouds in the sky. A Range Rover stood in the driveway, no other guards anywhere to be seen. Jett was quite capable of taking care of himself, even in the light of day.

Matthias pushed a button and unlocked the front door. Jett didn't waste time entering. Although vampires could venture out in the day if strong enough, it was still uncomfortable to say the least. He wasn't waiting around for the burn to start, that was for sure. A couple of seconds later the second door was closed and Jett Vardi, the new Master of Auckland City, strode into the lounge.

He was a big man with a full mane of curly black hair hanging past his shoulders and dark, dark eyes. With a well built physique and strong handsome features. The only thing marring his perfection was a decidedly crooked nose. He took up all the free space in the room, leaving only a small amount for the rest of us. His eyes roamed over the scene; from the vampires all standing to attention, to the fairy scowling in the background, to me.

I stood up and bowed low, hand fisted above my heart.

“Master of the City, my apologies for arriving unannounced,” I said, while still bowed low.

In a heartbeat he was across the floor of the lounge and bringing me up to stand straight with gently placed hands on my upper arms.

“Don't be bloody ridiculous, Luce.” He wrapped me in a bear hug. “Welcome home!”

I felt my bones crack slightly from the effort Jett put into the hug. Jett had always been so proper in the past, it took me by surprise. But, I wasn't complaining. He may have been Michel's second by default - not turned by Michel though, absorbed into the line at one stage instead - but he was still family. And he had proven his loyalty time and again.