Dancing Dragon (12 page)

Bloody hell. I squawked and sprang back out of his loose grasp - the prick hadn't even been holding me - and landed with a splat against the building behind me.

He held up his hands in a sign of peace. "
Elska
," he said simply, eyebrows raised and then laughed.

It took a moment for me to get my breathing under control, but no matter how I tried, I couldn't stop staring at him. He didn't seem to mind, just sat back on his haunches and returned the favour. His eyes held mine for a good few minutes and then he let them start to roam my body. First my face, my hair, down to my neck, but only briefly, not an intense neck scoping like a vampire. This guy wasn't after my veins - God knows what exactly he was after, but it wouldn't be found in my carotid. Then his gaze slowly took in the rest of me, lingering the longest on my breasts, the ones not in a bra, as I had been sleeping when woken by this pull. But the time taken to take them all in, making it obvious just where on my body his focus would end up being.

OK. Not neck and big juicy blood vessels there, but big juicy breasts instead. Hmm. Typical male then.

He flashed me a smile, displaying a nice row of blunt white teeth, not a fang in sight and then said, "I think you will do nicely,
elska
."

"I'm glad I pass the three minute ogle," I growled back, still trying to tear my gaze away.

"Ogle. How quaint. I intend to do much more than just ogle you,
elska
, be assured of that."

Well that was just creepy. "And here I was beginning to like you and you had to go all nasty sexual deviant on me."

He laughed uproariously at that. "My tastes do tend to extend to the wild and unpredictable side, but you will be begging for it, I will not have to steal."

Marginally reassuring that he had no intention of forcing me, not reassuring at all, that he thought I'd play along.

"You know, I am married." I tried for reasonable.

"Marriages fail, so I believe," he replied casually, his green eyes continuing to hold mine.

"I am also joined and Bonded to a kindred Nosferatu."

He shrugged. "It can be reversed."

I paused. That had been my trump card. What the hell did he mean it could be reversed? I studied him for a moment, he didn't seem to be lying, but then I wasn't even sure what the hell he was, let alone if I could smell a lie on him. Still, no one, nothing but death, can separate a joined kindred Nosferatin from their Nosferatu. So, I was going to go with lying and if that was the case. I was wasting my time here.

Somehow that thought was enough to break the spell, or whatever the hell it was that held me rooted to this spot, unable to tear my gaze from his perfect face. This guy acted so sure of everything he said, but I was certain he was a fruit bat. I'd been entertaining a fruit bat.

I had thought Alastair was the crazy one, but Lutin took the cake. I kept my gaze on his body, not those bewitching eyes and worked to settle my mind, listening to my rapid pulse in my head and beginning the trek back to my own body and away from this surreal, confusing, and so-not-right world.

I felt the scene around me disappear and then the blackness engulf me, and then came to lying on my bed at home in St. Helier's Bay. Thank God. It's over. I lay there for a while, my eyes tightly shut, trying to make out what had just happened.

I mean, for starters, Alastair, the ancient vampire, had somehow overturned Boris and was supposedly Master of London City. To top it off, he had rules of his own and they didn't coincide with the
Iunctio's
. Then, he has a side kick. A drop-dead gorgeous, magical, wild-child, side kick, who made me feel things with his Light that not even my kindred makes me feel.

I shifted uneasily in the bed and refused to let my body acknowledge the heat building at the memory of his touch. Who the hell was he? Alastair had called him imp, Princeling and then Prince of something like: Loosailfarr. Weird did not cover it.

And then there was his Light. It felt familiar, but not like Nosferatin Light. Not the same as Amisi's, or Nero's had been, or even Nut's. But familiar. It called to me, I couldn't resist reaching out to touch it. I had to admit, reluctantly, that I liked his Light. I refused to admit that I now craved it however.

A small cough from the corner of the room had me pulling away from my mental ramblings and opening my eyes in a flash.

"So, where are we,
elska?
Is this your home?"

I screamed, he jumped and the door crashed down as two extremely well armed and bulky vampires stormed the room, guns out and
Sanguis Vitam
flowing.

Marcus and Matthias took one look at me lying out in a dishevelled mess on the bed and then glanced at Lutin standing casually to the side with a slight look of mischief on his face. Matthias looked alarmed, but Marcus just grinned.

"Michel's gonna love this," Marcus's deep voice cut through the silent air.

It could have been worse, I told myself, at least we were both dressed.

Yeah ri-ight.

“I am flying home this evening.” Michel's voice brokered no argument.

“You haven't even met with the Champion, Michel. How do you think she will handle your rebuke?”

“I do not care what she or the
Iunctio
think,
ma douce
. My wife has been captured by an imp.”

I flashed a look at the imp in question, sitting cross-legged on the couch in my lounge, taking in the decorations and furniture, the art work and electronics, and studiously ignoring the two vampires across the way. Marcus and Matthias both glared at Lutin, like he was about to explode and attack us all with a chainsaw.

“I don't think he's an imp, Michel, that's just silly. He's strange, that's all.”

“Put the imp on.”

“Michel,” I sighed.

“The imp, Lucinda! Now!”

I jumped at his tone, but reluctantly handed the phone over to Lutin, who did not seem the slightest bit surprised or scared. He should have been.

“Yes,” he said in his sing-song voice. Oh boy.

I couldn't hear what Michel was saying, but Lutin flashed me a glance.

“Ah-huh,” he replied to something. I started biting my nails.

“She is a
mœðr
, more appropriately my
elska
,” Lutin said, calmly.

“No she bloody well is not!” I heard Michel that time, then nothing, but Lutin just sat motionless listening to whatever it was Michel was saying.

Finally he spoke, after what had felt like an eternity. God only knows what Michel had been saying in all that time.

“I accept your
bjóða
. I shall be in touch.”

He hung up the phone without handing it back to me - instead placing it on the side table - and stood gracefully from his seat. The vamps stiffened, hands on guns at hips, fingers flexing. Lutin ignored them and waltzed over to me.

“It has been a pleasure,
elska,
but according to
bjóða
rules, I must depart.” He reached for my hand and I yelped, snatching it away before he could make contact.

“Don't touch!” I practically screamed, Matthias was in Lutin's face in an instant.

“You heard the lady, back off, fairy.”

Lutin just chuckled and blew me a kiss, one I felt on the side of my cheek, right down to my curling toes.

“Very well, be safe,
elska
.” And then he simply vanished in a flash of Light.

Silence permeated the room like a welcome friend. I would have been quite happy for it to long continue.

No such luck.

“A fairy! You bring a fucking fairy into Michel's house?”

“I..I..
what
?” I asked, incredulously.

The phone ringing shrilly cut off any answer Marcus could have given. Matthias  answered it and immediately handed it to me with a sympathetic look on his face. He tapped Marcus on the shoulder and they both left the room.

“Hello?” I asked, uncertainly.

“What the
hell
have you been doing now, Lucinda?” came Michel's very angry voice down the line, each word carefully annunciated, failing however, to hide his French heritage.

“I...I...” I don't know why I was stammering, but the
Sanguis Vitam
coming down the line from Michel was so very frightening. I could hardly breathe, let alone think coherently. He was fuming and not holding an ounce of his rage back.

I collapsed onto the carpet, clutching the phone to my ear and panted through the onslaught of all that power. Normally, he wouldn't have that sort of hold over me and I was sure that I was blocking some of the effect his
Sanguis Vitam
would be having on me right now, but the amount he was using was unfathomable and therefore some of it was making it through my shields, unblocked. I told myself it was just superficial, he couldn't really hurt me, it was just the amount of all that recognisable power that my body was responding to. I dreaded to think what those in the
Palais
were experiencing right now.

I closed my eyes and couldn't help but sink a little into that black nothingness void I use to
seek
, it was a natural response to the attack on my psyche right now. Unbidden tears started to stream down my cheeks when I found him. He was so Dark, there was almost no Light.

“Answer me!” he demanded, his voice even but thrumming with potential threat.

I swallowed, twice and then heard myself say, in a voice so unfamiliar, so small, “He appeared in my Dream Walk, helping that ancient vampire who was killing more humans.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, palpable, tangible, all-encompassing silence, it filled the space around me, squashing my chest, pinning my arms to my sides, making me sink further into the floor.

“You Dream Walked to him again? In London?” Michel's voice was still level, still tightly controlled, like a coiled spring, at any moment I knew it would rebound and attack.

“Yes.” Time to get it all out before the pin was removed and the grenade exploded. “His name is Alastair and he says he's the new Master of London City.”

I waited for Michel to acknowledge that little bit of highly important information, but got nothing in return, so decided to keep going. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“He believes himself above the
Iunctio
and its rules, and was quite happy to drain dry four humans in one sitting. There were no Nosferatins around, I have no idea what's happening over there, but my
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
powers have been directing me to him. I can't help feeling there's a reason. It's like I can't resist the pull.”

“You will resist the pull.” I jumped at Michel's command. One, because he had spoken and I thought he had actually turned to stone on the other end of the line it had been so silent and two, because he had tried to use
Sanguis Vitam
to send the command home. It failed, I was still shielding like buggery right now, but the message was clear.

“How does the fairy fit into it?” he asked, his level, even, low voice back again.

“What do you mean fairy? Fairies don't actually exist... do they?” I asked, at first almost on a snort and then a little uncertain. I really wasn't sure what the hell Lutin was, but it wasn't entirely human, that was for sure.

Michel ignored my question and just repeated his. “Lucinda. How does the fairy fit into this scenario?”

“He distracted Alastair when I was about to stake him through the back. Alastair had already drained one human and was on his second and had a couple lined up to go, glazed. Lutin made a sound, that alerted Alastair and before I could stake him, he pounced.” I wasn't going to say a thing about the fact that Lutin had made me freeze by merely smiling at me and that his Light called to my soul. I may be scared right now, but I wasn't stupid.

“Then what?” Michel ground the words out.

“We talked...”

“Talked?” This time a little sarcasm made it through the even and low veneer of his voice.

“Well, traded insults at least, but that's how I found out his name, that he was the new Master of the City and then when he'd had enough, he stole my air and started feeding again. In front of me, while I was unable to do a thing about it.”

That little bit I found hard to swallow. I'd watched friends die in the past and been unable to do a thing about it. They were my most fervent recurring nightmares. The thought of standing by and watching an innocent, not just a friend, die and be unable to do a damn thing about it, is my Achilles heel. Michel knows this, he knows it literally eats me up inside, normally he would console me, make me feel better. I had no such illusions he would do that now. I was on my own with my guilt and if anything, he'd use it against me.

“How did you escape his hold?” Michel asked, his voice now a notch or two lower. Not a good sign.

“Lutin came over, I think at first to watch me die, he didn't seem too fazed by it, but then he touched me and something made him think otherwise. He ran a hand over my face and I could breathe again and then he told Alastair I was under his protection and that I was a
murdra
or something.”

“A
mœðr,
” Michel corrected. “When did he recognise you as an
elska
?” This time his voice was ice, so cold I actually started rubbing my arms to bring some warmth back into me.

“When he used his Light against Alastair,” I replied, nervously I'll admit, this was not going well and although I could tell that no good was going to come from me telling Michel all of this, I couldn't stop it. Like a car wreck, it was happening so fast, but in slow motion at the same time.

Silence.

I sat still and breathed. What else could I do? His
Sanguis Vitam
still surrounded me, still hummed down the line, but I
could
breathe, so I did. And just waited. When Michel was like this - and I will admit it does happen occasionally - there's nothing you can do. I have reached him before, down that tunnel that separates us when the Dark comes calling for his soul, but it's not easy and it takes an enormous leap of faith. Right now, my leaping abilities were all tapped out. He'd hurt me so deeply recently, I still was wounded and the strength required to bridge the gap and save my kindred, was just no longer there.

I wanted to, but I just was unable to. So, I breathed.

Finally he spoke and his words shot through to my core.

“I will be flying home tonight, Lucinda and you will be waiting for me.” The unsaid in that sentence was
and I will be punishing you for this
. To a vampire the punishment is in the offence. It doesn't matter, that it wasn't your fault, or you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, the fact that I had brought a supposed fairy into his house, Dream Walked to Alastair again and now caused what evidently was irreparable harm to Michel somehow, was enough. I would be punished.

I don't crumble that easily though, I do have a spine. I might have at one point meekly accepted Michel's will, but not anymore. I have skills myself and if Michel wanted to have at it, I'd be capable of fighting back. Not that that was a pleasant thought, but still. Nosferatin mantra number one:
Never show fear. Never give and inch. Always stay on guard.

“What about the Champion?” He couldn't just leave, it would be an unprecedented slight on the leader of the
Iunctio's
council.

“I have requested an audience now, this information is too sensitive for her to refuse. My business here will be completed within the hour and I will be flying out immediately.” He paused, his voice although still low and even, had softened around the edges. A little of Michel had come back, thank God. “If Lutin is a Prince of
Ljósálfar
, then the portals to
Álfheimr
have been opened. And if the Light Fey have returned, then the
Dökkálfa
won't be far behind.”

Whoa. What the hell was he talking about? “What are you talking about, Michel?”

There was a long drawn out sigh down the line and then, quietly, almost imperceptibly, Michel said, “Only you could find the lost fey of
Alfheimr, ma douce
. Only you.”

And then the line went dead.

His
Sanguis Vitam
which had been engulfing the room only seconds ago, vanished and I realised the Darkness which had descended over everything in sight, had disappeared too. The room was once again an unnatural yellow glow, the result of the large expanses of glass being shielded by UV blocking shutters. Unnatural, but not unusual for this place.

The door to the lounge opened slowly and Marcus, Matthias and Samson trailed in, all looking a little pained.

“Are you all right, mistress?” Samson asked as he came and knelt down next to me, concern evident on his face.

I just looked at him, unable to form words.

“Are you harmed?” Matthias added, no doubt hoping I'd understand that a little better.

When I still didn't reply, Marcus decided to give it a shot. “Did the master chew your butt off figuratively or literally? Do you need a medic?”

Oh. They'd felt Michel's
Sanguis Vitam
too, it had probably hurt them to some degree. It had been uncomfortable for me, but it hadn't hurt. I hadn't let it.

“I'm fine, he can rant and rave and throw his toys out of the cot all he likes, but he can't reach me with his power. How are you guys?”

They all looked a mixture of relieved, surprised and impressed.

“That was more power than I have ever seen the master use before,” Matthias answered lowering his bulk into an overstuffed chair. The others followed suit around the room. I didn't miss the fact that they were all calling him the master, a sudden dose of his power and they go all formal and respectful. Figures. “It would have mortally wounded a human had they have been on the receiving end.”