Dancing Dragon (17 page)

I gasped, so did Samson I think, but his was not because of some Nosferatin type pull. His was because the headstone's inscription was now suddenly clear. So clear in fact, that it looked like it had its own Light illuminating the words from within. They were beautiful, there was no other way to describe them. They called to me and shone like a thousand stars.

I took a breath in and read the words aloud. "
Here lies the body of a warrior, a guardian of people and places.
" I knelt down, releasing Samson's hand to get a better view. He had gone very silent. "
Born of the Light, a foil to the Dark.
" I swallowed and cleared my throat before going on. "
His Light will shine forth in those who follow."
My voice had been quiet, the sounds now of my breathing the only thing I could hear. I was thinking Samson had stopped breathing altogether. "Rest in peace, Tom," I said as tears trickled down my face.

Then after several moments of quiet contemplation, I felt something else. "I feel something here. A pull... or something." I turned away from the headstone, feeling that pull
getting stronger by the minute. I started walking, barely aware that Samson was beside me. The pull, like my evil-lurks-in-my-city-pull, led my way. My Light still shining before me like a torch, or more accurately, a homing beacon.

Eventually I came to a stop, standing a bare foot away from the corner of the Abbey, invisible from the path and roadway where the car was parked. I looked down and there it was. A brick, set in the corner of the building, looking exactly the same as all the other bricks that made up this structure. Aside from one thing. An emblem inset in bronze. The image of an Egyptian woman, a water pot on her head. Stars in the sky behind her, but inexplicably, the Sun with its dazzling rays of light, shining down from amongst them. I guess Nut, being the Goddess of Light, took Light from wherever it happened to reside. Stars, the Sun. It was all Light.

I traced my fingers over the emblem, feeling closer to my goddess than I had done in months and then - I'm not sure why, but it felt right - I pushed against the emblem and the cornerstone moved. Samson stiffened as I continued to push the stone further and then a void appeared as the brick disappeared into the wall. Hidden in the small gap left by the brick I had moved, was an object with a faint glow. Pulsing in time to my Light. I reached inside before I could think better of it and removed the article, then after ascertaining there was nothing else hidden within, returned the brick to its original position with a gentle shove of my hand. And as my Light diminished of its own accord, the emblem simply disappeared.

I looked down at what was in my hand. A velvet wrapped parcel. With my breath in my mouth, I gently unwrapped it. Had my ancestor placed it there? Had his extended family, when they buried him in this ancient cemetery? Why was I the first to find it, why had no other Nosferatin come across this treasure? I could only think, I was the first of the Baxters to return to this land, after they left for the New Land and their role there. Or maybe, it presented itself again and again to a Baxter who needed it. I didn't know, but my heart was racing and my palms were sweaty and I couldn't think straight to help myself.

Inside, shining in the low light of the moon, were two of the most beautiful silver stakes I had ever seen. I turned one over in my hand, mesmerised by the intricate designs along the length of it. My Egyptian stakes were beautiful in their own simplistic and practical way. The silver alone making them seem alive. But these here, were magnificent. Nut in all her stunning, brightly lit glory, decorated the shaft. The one I fingered, balanced perfectly in my hand. It felt like a part of my soul.

These stakes were meant to be mine. I knew this, as though Thomas Baxter had handed them to me himself.

Reverently I placed them both inside my jacket. I was armed, balanced and centred.

I turned to Samson, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Thank you. Thank you for bringing me here. Thank you, so much."

He smiled warmly. "I had no idea this awaited you, I just wanted you to have something to help you remember who you are."

It had done that, in more ways than he could ever know. My hands ran over the reassuring feel of the stakes in my jacket and then I stood slowly, stretching my leg muscles out.

We both turned back in silence to the car and then I felt it. A pull.
Another
pull. This one very familiar and
very
unwanted. It was also, not from here.

"We have to go London," I said, almost on automatic.

"London, Luce? Is that wise?"

I shook my head. It didn't matter if it was wise, the pull, my powers, Nut - I don't know what - was making it very obvious that London called.

"London," I said with conviction.

"London," Samson replied, not quite so determined as me.

I slept for the trip, all of the excitement and worry and fear and emotion catching up with me. I didn't remember the journey. I missed the scenery.
I simply woke on a couch in an unfamiliar room, covered with a thick quilted blanket. The room was dim, just a small side table light on and the furnishings modern, but comfortable. Light wood everywhere, on the door frame, around the windows, on the floor under the cream on cream rug. Everything was tastefully decorated in creams with the odd splash of colour here and there; reds, yellows, greens, an unusual combination which somehow worked. The artwork was modern, abstract but not overly done. It complemented the odd splash of colour haphazardly thrown about the room.

There was an enormous flat screen plasma TV, high end stereo equipment and large speakers in each corner. A tablet computer sat on the low coffee table in front of an armchair, it was switched on, I couldn't tell what website it was on. A fire glowed in the corner, gas by the looks of it, but still very realistic.

The door to the room opened slowly and Samson walked in with a tray of coffee and various cakes and biscuits. I smiled at his choice of food for me. Was I really that predictable? Is this what all the vampires thought I ate and only this?

He smiled back. “Hello, sleepy head.”

I cringed at his nick-name for me, but conceded he was probably right.

“Hi,” I managed, sitting up and forcing myself not to respond to the moniker. It would only encourage him more.

“So, is this your home?” I asked, taking the cup of steaming coffee he handed me. I hadn't realised he had a home in London, but then, he had only been in New Zealand for a few weeks. And as he had just come from London to Auckland, it did kind of make sense that he wouldn't have sold any property yet.

“Yes. Do you like it?” I had the feeling he wanted my approval.

“Very much. It's light and modern, but also comfortable.” His smile broadened.

“
Mi casa es su casa
.” He sat down in the armchair and watched me drink my coffee.

I opened my mouth to thank him for the food and taking care of me, and especially for the side trip to Tewkesbury and the chance to revisit my family line, when movement out of the front bay window caught my eye. I was on my feet and peering around the thick cream curtains in an instant. Samson was soon beside me.

“What is it?” he asked over my shoulder.

“I saw something move, a shadow.” There were many shadows out in the pristine neighbourhood outside, between the expensive cars parked on the one way street, under the cover of the copious well trimmed trees and plants that bordered the wide footpath and out of the glow of the ornate looking lamp posts. “I don't know, maybe I was mistaken.”

“Always follow your first instincts, mistress, they are seldom wrong and show us more of our environment than our conscious mind allows.”

We stood still for a while, nothing happened and just when I decided it had to have been a mistake, two forms materialised across the street as though they had chosen to expose themselves, chosen to give themselves away. It had been a conscious move, we hadn't discovered them, they had allowed us to see they were there.

Antonio and Ricardo stood casually across the street, black trench coats down to the ground, broad shoulders, hands held loosely together in front of their bodies. Ricardo lifted his right hand in a salute to us and then both men melted back into the shadows, just as they had done in Michel's underground car park at
Sensations
when I was first introduced to them.

“Shit. Michel knows we're here,” I muttered under my breath.

Samson's hand came down on my shoulder, but he didn't say anything, he didn't need to. He'd made it obvious that he would do anything for me and I guess that meant protect me from Michel too.

I'd been blocking so hard that I hadn't even considered that Michel would find me through the Bond connection we shared, I had just assumed I had blocked him enough to keep him away. I certainly hadn't been looking for him. I did now.

Call them off!
I sent the thought out to him.

No,
came the soft reply.

I don't want them here.

Would you rather me?

And then he appeared on the footpath directly in front of Samson's wrought iron fence, his magenta-washed eyes on me.

Ah crap.

I pulled the curtains closed on my kindred. Out of sight, out of mind. Yeah right. I swung back towards Samson.

“Can he get inside?” I asked, biting my bottom lip.

“If he chose to, yes.”

“Doesn't he need an invite to get in?”

“That is only for human dwellings, mistress, he can unlock the front door with his mind and simply step across the threshold, should he desire,” Samson replied, matter of factly.

“Don't you have any wards on this place?” I knew I was sounding a bit demanding, a little bit judgemental in fact, but my heart rate had sky rocketed and my mouth had gone dry and I was starting to get that panicked feeling, something that was becoming a little too familiar for my liking.

Samson didn't show any signs of being offended by my tone. “I have never needed to ward this residence before. I shall look into it immediately and arrange some protection for you, mistress, however, it may be too late for this evening. I hear him at the door.”

I didn't need him to tell me that, I could feel Michel there as well, like a blinding light on a dark storm tossed night, a beacon calling me home. I turned, as if in slow motion and heard the door click open, then felt my kindred walk closer. I glanced around frantically for an escape, I even felt inside my jacket for my stakes, but of course I wouldn't stake him. I couldn't stake him, no matter the fear and anger that ratcheted up my spine.

Samson took a step in front of me, shielding my body, as though he could feel my emotions and read my thoughts.

Michel came into the lounge, taking up more space than he had any right to. He was dressed in his signature dark off-black Armani suit, white shirt and a pale blue silk tie. He glanced around the room, taking in the decorations and furnishing, and then levelled his gaze on me. The magenta was still there, but hints of mauve and violet had started to seep back in.

“
Ma douce,
” he said in way of greeting, he didn't even acknowledge Samson at all. “You look pale. Are you well?”

I just stared at him and willed myself to keep breathing. The last time I had seen him, he had been threatening to feed off another in front of me in an outright attempt to punish me. Yet as he stood there, so familiar, so perfect, I wanted nothing more than to walk toward him and wrap my arms around his waist, bury my face in his chest and inhale all of that beautiful fresh clean cut grass and salty sea spray that is his signature scent.

He smiled at my thoughts and took a step closer.

I clenched my fists and shot a blast of anger back. He stopped in his tracks and blanched slightly. Vampires have a limited range of emotions, anger is certainly one of them, but whenever I force my emotions on Michel, it's as though his body has difficulty processing them. They throw him off balance. I can use my emotions like a weapon, as far as Michel is concerned. I wondered why I hadn't done that at the
Palais
, why I hadn't made him feel what I had been feeling when he attempted to do what he did.

Michel sighed. “I felt them,
ma douce
, I chose to ignore them.”

I was surprised at the admission, it didn't paint him in a very nice light and certainly wouldn't win him any favours with me, would it?

“I have no intention of lying to you, if we are to get past this, then it must be with full disclosure,” he said quietly, still keeping his focus on me.

“What makes you think we can get past this, Michel?” I asked, stiffly.

“We are kindred, it will be impossible for us not to try.”

“Convenient, don't you think? You can then simply hurt me again and rely on the fact that we are kindred to let you make amends. Is this a cycle we will repeat for eternity, Michel? You hurt me, I let you back in, and then you hurt me all over again?”

Samson began growling, a low, rough sound in the back of his throat. He obviously did not like the fact that Michel had hurt me and he was making it known. Michel's eyes slowly slid to Samson.

“I see,” he said and this time there was a little of that ice cold Michel in his tone. “Your puppy has grown attached.”

I placed a hand on Samson's arm to calm him - it would be no good if he tried to take Michel on - stepping closer to him in the process, not even realising that I had brushed up against him in a familiar move. Michel stiffened, his gaze locked on where I stood, how I touched Samson, how close I was to the length of his body and then shot up to my face.

“Have you found a replacement so quickly,
ma douce
? Did the imp not pass your demanding standards? Is it vampyre only for you and any vampyre will do?”

My mouth dropped open in shock. How dare he? How could he possibly think I would be that cheap? I saw his body relax as he heard my fervent thoughts, but unfortunately, my thoughts had continued and this time there was no denying the reaction they got. I'd just brushed guiltily on the episode on the plane and Michel was on us.

First he thrust Samson away from me, sending him flying across the room, then he pulled me against his body, crushing me to his chest and spinning to face Samson's approach. He was using me like a shield, Samson stopped in mid flight and crouched low and growled, eyes locked on my attacker, on Michel.

Michel simply brushed my hair out of my eyes, his face coming over my shoulder and resting cheek to cheek with me. His arm was across my chest holding me firmly back against his body and my hands automatically came up to hold on to his wrist, not even bothering to try to dislodge him, just resting there. No doubt his eyes were locked on Samson, but his body was responding to me. Or the adrenaline pumping through him, or the heightened
Sanguis Vitam
in the room, the potential for confrontation, whatever it was, he was getting aroused and then suddenly, so was I.

Samson noticed it first and stood upright immediately. “Mistress?” he asked, more than a little concern showing in his face.

“Leave us, Samson,” I breathed out, huskily. Michel's entire body stiffened.

Samson just stood there a moment. “Are you sure? You know how this will end. This is not what you wanted.”

“Leave us.” I backed it up with my Light, a command a member of my line could not ignore.

Samson nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“
Ma douce
?” Michel asked uncertainly, but not releasing his grasp. I just started rubbing myself against him, relishing the instant hardening of his sex in response.

“What are you doing?” he asked, again a little uncertainly.

“What does it look like?” I husked.

“Why?” Short sentences, he was starting to get angry, a reaction to being on uncertain ground. This was not what he had expected me to be doing, coming on to him, trying to get him aroused. No, he expected me to fight.

Tell that to the Lutin induced spell. And to top things off, even though I was still angry with him, even though he had hurt me and I professed to never wanting to have a single thing to do with him again. I couldn't stop the desire that coursed through me. This was Michel, not some random fairy, not a vampire of my line who conveniently happened to be there when the spell activated. This was Michel. My Michel, and despite everything that had happened, my mind, my heart, let alone my body, still wanted this man.

I spun in his hold, taking advantage of his confusion and ended up chest to chest, rubbing against his groin in a sinuous move, my hands now flowing over his back, down to his rear and then around to the front of his trousers and undoing his belt before he even realised what was happening.

He pushed me away as soon as the belt hit the floor, a look of utter shock washing his features. He held a hand out to stop my advance, stilling me with the shocked look in his eyes.

“Lucinda, what is going on?”

“I want you. Now,” I breathed, taking a step forward. He took a step back.

“You're not angry with me?” he asked, incredulously.

“I'm horny,” I said, managing to get close enough to nibble his ear, before he pushed me gently away again.

“That does not sound like you, Lucinda. You are usually more... subtle.”

I huffed and prowled after him, he continued to side step my advance.

“Lucinda, we need to talk.”

“Talking is overrated,” I murmured and spun through the space between us, landing flush against his back, my hands wrapping around his waist and undoing his trouser button, before he stepped away.

“Lucinda!” He jumped, twirling around to face me, but I'd already spun away and came up behind him again, pulling the same manoeuvre and unzipping his fly.

A groan came out of his mouth as my hand found his hard length, then he spun to face me and threw me to the floor, holding my wrists above my head, grinding his body into mine. The spell erupted and I wrapped my legs around him and nuzzled my face into his neck, whimpering my need.

“What on Earth has got into you,
ma douce
?” he asked, as I nipped above his pulse point and he cried out in alarm, pulling back and holding my head still by just his fingers on my jaw. He looked into my eyes, trying to see something, I had no idea what, but whatever it was he seemed unsatisfied.

I started moving my hips against him and he shifted uncomfortably.

“You don't want me?” I pouted, then tried to nip him again when his hold on my chin softened at those words. His grasp instantly tightened again when the nip neared its mark.

“Always,” he ground out. “But, you do not particularly want me right now, or had you forgotten?”

“I'll forgive you if you fuck me,” I said with a smile.

The look on his face was priceless, he swallowed, then shook his head, then made an inarticulate sound in the back of his throat, then started stroking my face, my hair, my neck, making me forget for a moment that he wasn't actually doing the deed I wanted, but was at least touching me in some fashion anyway.

“What is going on,
ma douce
?” he asked softly, laying a kiss against my throat and making me purr. “Why are you like this?”

“I want you. Need you. Gotta have you now.” I writhed beneath him and he held me firmer with his hands and body, still managing to quieten me with the petting against my face and neck.

“What about what happened at the
Palais
?” An image flashed through my mind unbidden at those words and I cringed. “So, you have not forgotten entirely. Do you still want me now?” He rolled his hips against me, obviously having not worked out what was going on because instead of infuriating me, I just ground back, wrapping my legs tighter and moaned.

“
Merde,
” he muttered and then I felt his
Sanguis Vitam
fill the air and he said loudly and firmly, “Samson!”

His power must have been greater than my command, because Samson suddenly appeared inside the room.

“Michel,” he said, quietly.

“What is wrong with her?” Michel asked,
Sanguis Vitam
still pulsating through the air.

He kept petting me, stroking me, touching me, but didn't roll his hips, or kiss me with his lips, only enough touch to keep me quiet, but not stop my attempts to entice him further.

“She has been bespelled by the Fey Prince.”

Michel stilled, that preternatural calm vampires do, but then I started mewling, so he continued his petting, shushed me and looked over his shoulder at Samson.

“How? When?” he demanded of the younger vampire, enforcing the questions with more of his prickling
Sanguis Vitam
.

“He took her away from the hotel we were staying in at the airport, tried to seduce her and failed, then returned her like this.”

Michel nodded as though it all made perfect sense. “She came back horny?” he asked, anger lacing his words.

“No, it wasn't until she saw me after I had fed on the plane and had... fulfilled my desires, that she responded. Lust seems to activate the spell.”

Michel was silent for a moment, taking that in, still petting me and holding me still. “Did she come on to you?” His voice had lowered and was wrapped in
Sanguis Vitam
, enough to make me whimper and writhe beneath him. He didn't pull it back, just rolled his hips once in response to satisfy me.

“Yes,” Samson answered, reluctantly it would seem.

“How did you deal with it?” There was a wealth of unsaid threats behind the seemingly innocuous question.

"I convinced her to lower her shields and glazed her to sleep."

"Is that all?" Michel asked slowly, his voice laced with
Sanguis Vitam
.

“
I...” Samson hesitated, then as though against his will, went on. "I kissed her, to test my suspicions, to determine what kind of spell."

I felt Michel's anger like it was my own, it burst out of him, washing me and Samson, and smashing every glass surface in the room. Light bulbs, mirrors, lamp shades, windows, glass on the front of a display case, the TV, my coffee mug, the plate with the selections of cookies and cake on the wooden table. When the noise of all the shattering glass subsided, the silence seemed omnipresent.