Dancing Dragon (43 page)

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The sun was just dipping below the horizon, casting its golden glow across the pristine white sand and letting the night life know it was time to come out and play. Not that some hadn't already started early. They didn't need the dark to envelope the sky before they started to celebrate life. I'd been pouring
Caipirinhas
non-stop since four this afternoon. Rum mixed with sugar and lime and coupled with an over exposure to the sun can have disastrous effects on humans. The group in the corner - farthest from the bar thankfully, but not far enough away - were making a right spectacle of themselves.

Bikini clad females and bare chested males were dirty dancing on the tables. And they all made me feel over dressed in my too short shorts and cropped singlet top. And way too sober as well. What I wouldn't give to get drunk. But, I was working and although my shift at
A Praia Mocambo
- literal translation
The Beach Hut
- was due to finish in little over one hour's time, my work would not be done.

No, from ten at night until four in the morning, I would be hunting.

This had been my routine for the past seven weeks. I'd start at four each afternoon at the beachside bar on the Copacabana, stash my little black barmaid's apron at ten and swap it for a sleeveless jacket with two silver stakes hidden inside. My silver knife was in a holster at my hip. That I wore even when serving annoying drunk tourists and over zealous locals at the bar. It's not uncommon to go armed in Rio de Janeiro, so my knife was an acceptable accompaniment. My stakes not so much. Well, not until the vampires came out to play.

Monday to Sunday, four in the afternoon until four in the morning, I would be busy. Rio is a popular tourist resort and Copacabana a Mecca for those on the prowl. Both human and the Nosferatu. The humans just want to have fun. Drink their limit, flirt to the extreme and hopefully get lucky. The vampires just want blood. Well, blood and a little sex on the side. And because this is South America, practically fallen off the
Iunctio's
radar, then the chances of a vampire's lust spilling over from blood and sex to something more nefarious, such as death, is high.

I take care of the humans' desires. Well, at least I serve them the booze, they can look after the rest. And then when I knock off at 10pm, I look after the Nosferatu. I'm a vampire hunter by birth, it's what I do. When a vamp chooses to feed off an innocent, a Norm who doesn't consent, then they have to answer to me. Usually, vamps are fairly well behaved. They've had to be, otherwise detection would have been too easy over the years. But, Brazil and all of South America in fact, is different. The
Iunctio
has not been able to get a handle on the situation. So, vampires who want to fly outside of the rules come here.

And they feast. Man, do they ever feast.

Back in New Zealand I'd be lucky to stumble upon a Dark vampire every couple of days or so. Here, I'm taking down at least two per night. Sometimes more. It's been good. Cathartic even. I've needed to keep busy. I've needed a goal. And I've made the cleaning up of Rio's streets my sole purpose in life.

Oh, and that of fulfilling my role as the Prophesied. But, that's just a side issue. I can balance out the Light in Dark vampires any time. Sooner or later they will all come to me. And when they do, I'm ready. A little flash of my inner Light and they get a choice. Good versus Bad. Dark versus Light. If they choose wrong, I stake them. If they mend their ways, I let them head off into the night.

The Prophesy I am a part of says:
The Light will capture the Dark and will hold it dear
. I am the Light. The one Nosferatin born to balance the world. It's the one part of my life that actually makes sense at the moment.

When I first came to South America I spent a week travelling from one over populated city to another, laying false trails, setting up time dependent traps for those who hunted me. I may be a hunter by birth, but I am also very much prey. For the next six months anyone trying to find me will be led on a wild goose chase courtesy of some friends I made when I first arrived. It cost me my entire savings, but it has been worth it. For two months now I have been unhindered. I am starting to even feel safe.

Rio is a big place and even though I work, live and hunt in Copacabana, there's a lot of shadows to hide behind. I'm good at blending into the Dark. I feel at home in the shadows even if I abhor them.

But, I know sooner or later they will catch up with me. Because not only am I the Prophesied, I am also a little unique as far as Nosferatins go. Unjoined, but a mature Nosferatin with all of my joined powers still intact.

When Lutin reversed my joining, he denied the
Iunctio
my powers. With the portals to
Álfheimr
opening, the
Iunctio
need my power back, in order to close those portals.

I am not so sure. In fact, I am pretty much adamant myself, that I will not join with another. Hence, hiding out in an
Iunctio
dead spot for the past two months.

“
Aquele testamento ser dez real, por favor
.” I pushed my fiftieth
Caipirinha
towards the guy across the bar from me. He was one of the barely-dressed hotties from table fifteen.

My Brazilian Portuguese is not perfect, but I'm learning. Besides, most of my customers are Brits or Yanks. With the odd Aussie thrown in. The fact that I could speak English was actually why my boss hired me. That and I can handle a bar brawl or two.

I shoved his note in the till and watched him sway and stagger back towards the group. They'd all flake out before too much longer and go sleep it off on the beach. Not the safest of spots. Vampires aren't afraid of the sand.

“Busy night, huh?” A deeply masculine voice came from over my shoulder, behind the bar.

I spun and smiled at my boss's son, Gabriel. He's about twenty-eight years old, short thick black hair, tanned and well defined body and a sweet innocent smile. He kept me at arms' length for the first two weeks I worked here. I'm guessing it was because of the wedding ring I wear. I won't ever take it off. But when no one showed up claiming me or the ring, he grew bolder. I don't mind. A little flirting never hurt anyone. Not that I have any desire to take it further, but if I ever did get myself back in that saddle, a human male would be my choice. I've had it with the supernatural. I need normal. I need a Norm.

Tonight, however, like every night before it since I left my life in New Zealand, is not the night to jump back in the saddle.

“Keeps me out of mischief,” I answered and started wiping down the bar.

“And when you knock off in...” he looked at his watch and whistled, “fifteen minutes, will you get into mischief then?”

“Always.” I winked at him and went out to clear a few tables.

I could feel his eyes on my back the whole time I scooted between drunks and happy, cheery tourists. The whole time it took me to wipe twenty-six tables and return the empty bottles and glasses to the kitchen. It would do him no good. He starts his shift at 10, right when I finish mine. And then, the mischief I was going to get up to, involved a silver stake and an undead heart. Or two. Certainly not what Gabriel would have had in mind.

I returned to the bar and stowed my apron, pulling my black vest out from the same spot. It was heavy, that was the stakes, but once I had it on you wouldn't be able to tell there was a weapon of death underneath at all. I'd had to make it myself. My normal jackets were just too hot for Brazil's late summer. I was pleased with the result. I could hunt and still look harmless. Although, the knife at my hip did manage to send a don't-fuck-with-me message to the Norms.

“You sure you don't want to stop for a drink, Luce?” Gabriel asked. He asks it every night.

And every night I answer, “Maybe later I'll stop by.” I never do. Later I'll be hunting and after that I'll sit and stare out of my apartment window and wait for the sun to rise. Praying that my heart will one day heal.

I vary my hunting routine every night. Sometimes I head inland towards the shops, hotels and restaurants. Others, like tonight I start on the beach. I don't just go out looking for trouble, it will find me. Or at least, the pull will. When I feel it, I just follow that tug which leads me directly to a vampire about to feed off an innocent and reeking of Dark. For a while there, I contemplated just hunting willy-nilly. Find any old vampire out on the town. My anger was so great that I was almost blind to it.

The first time I followed my nose and not my pull, and killed a vampire who was not all Dark, I felt a piece of me break off and die. It was tempting to do it again the next night. To slowly kill myself that way. But, somehow, I don't really know how, I found my way out of that pit of despair. Maybe, it was Gabriel, he called on me the very next day - the first time he had ever done that - and took me to meet his sisters. He has six of them. All loud and boisterous and loving and full of life. And Light.

For humans they were extremely full of Light. I'd never noticed Light in a Norm before, so I'm guessing they've got some Nosferatin in their blood. But, I have yet to see a Nosferatin hunting the streets in Rio like me. That morning spent with his family though, seemed to flick a switch in me. It righted something inside, or maybe just reminded me of who I was. I am not a heartless killer. I am not a goddess who metes out someone's fate. I am a vampire hunter. I hunt the Dark.

I never thanked Gabriel for that visit. He's never done it again since. He's never had to.

I'd made it about five hundred metres along the beach, white sand spraying over my flat strappy sandals, the gentle wash of waves beside me keeping me calm, when I felt the first pull of the night. It never did take long. The sun went down at about eight here and by just after ten the first hungry vampire would strike. I'd had one strike before the end of my shift and had to beg off sick to get away, but luckily it hadn't happened again. So there was no need to lie more than I already had to Gabriel and his dad.

I started heading in the direction of the pull. I call it my evil-lurks-in-my-city pull. At the moment Rio is my city. Every Nosferatin has that pull. The vampire was off the beach, up near the
Copacabana Palace Hotel
. A beautiful white moulded concrete building, eight stories high. A bit like a wedding cake. All blocky and regal and pure. The streets behind it would be ideal for a vampire on the hunt.

I made a mad dash across the
Avenida
Atlântica
, dodging traffic and ignoring pedestrian road rules and skirted the side of the hotel. Squeezing between a bus and a delivery truck and picking up my pace on the other side. Usually I can make it to a vampire before he strikes. There's just something about our hunting skills that allow us to get going before the vampire does. It's handy, I gotta say. Without it and considering the size of the area we have to cover, it would be a lost cause.

I rounded the rear of the white behemoth that is the hotel and found what I was looking for. A Dark vampire about to feed off a lost tourist. I could tell the victim was a tourist by the look of his backpack hanging off one arm and the camera dangling round the front of his neck. It never fails to amaze me that tourists don't try to blend in. It's not just the vampires you have to watch out for, you know. Humans can be just as Dark. A tourist who stands out might as well have a sign above his head saying:
Pick
me!

“Hey!” I shouted and heard my words bounce off the walls all around us. Normally I don't give them a heads up, but this guy looked like he was in a hurry to feed.

The vampire spun toward me, wrapping a dirty looking hand around the startled and frightened neck of his catch. He wasn't squeezing too hard, but the tourist had had enough for one night and started squealing like a scared little piglet.

“Calm down!” I shot at the tourist, hoping he spoke English, then to the vampire said, “
Inglês ou Português?
”

He snarled and showed me a nice set of lengthened fangs. His blue eyes turning an unattractive purple. A result of an angry red mixing in with the blue. Michel had blue eyes. When he got excited, for whatever reason, they'd turn first indigo, then amethyst, then magenta. This guy's eyes were a pale imitation. But, close enough to make me gasp.

He noticed, of course. Took a deep breath in through his nose, testing the air like a tracker dog. Testing my scent. What would he smell? Not fear. I'm no longer scared of anything. Well, maybe what my life would be like if the
Iunctio
caught up with me, but this guy was definitely not one of them. No, he would have smelt sadness, loss, heartache. It was all there and I could do nothing to hide it.

His eyes levelled on me and I could see what he had decided. To vampires fear can taste divine. So can lust and anger. But, sadness and heartache leaves only a bitter taste. I wouldn't be a pleasant meal. So, he'd decided to just kill me instead. Good. I like to know where I stand. It makes getting up in the morning after I've staked them, so much easier. No need for guilt if they try to take you with them.

Plus, a fight was just what I needed. Hell, I'd been chasing fights for the past two months and it wasn't getting old.