Entwined With the Dark (12 page)

But then, hadn't I wanted Michel to confide in me? Was this his way of letting me in? Of opening up? When he couldn't, for some reason, open up about his trips away.

I offered him a smile and shrugged my shoulders. "They'll figure it out," I said trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous ground.

He didn't say anything for a while and then out of nowhere, he said in a soft voice the others in the car would still be able to hear, "I miss our joining."

Oh Goddess. Not now, I'd only cry again. He squeezed my hand and whispered, "I just wanted you to know."

We pulled up outside the Vibe not long afterwards and I was in no way prepared. My throat felt dry, my eyes stung with threatening tears and my heart ached - a body wrenching pain deep down inside. I was also aware I was suffering from lack of contact with my joined kindred. I'd have to Dream Walk to Avery before the night was through. The thought of facing him after what Michel had just admitted, made it all so much worse.

Sergei opened my passenger door and waited for me to exit. Michel sat quietly at my side.

"I guess I could have timed that a bit better," he said, a small crease appearing on his forehead as he looked across the seat at me.

It was enough to lighten the moment and I took the first deep breath in for quite some time.

"Come on, husband. Let's go have some fun," I said offering the biggest beguiling smile I could muster.

He started chuckling - such a pleasant and attractive sound - and followed me out of the car. The All Mighty Master of London City was waiting and we needed to kiss some serious arse.

The routine was fairly similar to last time, we were greeted inside the door to the club and led through to the white corridor out back. I had to remove my jacket and sheathed Svante. Michel carried no weapons, obviously not needing them, and the other vamps all dutifully relinquished their load of toys. Knives, guns, tasers, nunchucks, pepper spray. Pepper spray? I shook my head at Marcus, why on earth would he carry that?

"Norms," he muttered. "So fragile."

Another few minutes later and we'd made it to the double doors. I wondered if Michel had met Amun here when he came to announce his presence in the Master's city. It seemed likely, but from the look on Michel's face - mild interest and curiosity - I wasn't so sure. After a few tense minutes, while Amun's guard conversed telepathically, the doors were opened and our arrival was announced.

Amun looked much the same as on our first encounter; white suit, dark skin and hair, warm chocolate brown eyes with a hint of coffee. Nero looked back at us as we crossed the threshold of the room. I had forgotten and again it took me by surprise. Why hadn't Michel warned me when he'd first met the Master of the City? I didn't send a thought his way, who knew if Amun could read minds, and besides I should have been prepared this time. It had just slipped my mind.

The room did look different though, a long low white table set up between the door and Amun's desk. Low lying armchairs were strategically placed around its circumference. About a dozen, with the head of which being far more ornate and intricate than the rest. Amun's throne perhaps? There were also several more vampires in the room, all dressed in white. In comparison, our entourage was a representation of the Dark; black from head to toe. How ironic.

I allowed myself a brief moment to
seek
out the Dark in all those present and was utterly astounded to see that Amun and his vampires carried no more Dark than any average vamp. I wasn't prepared for that and sucked in a breath in surprise. Michel's hand in mine squeezed - a warning. Once again I wasn't playing the game well.

We came to rest before him and as one, as though rehearsed, we bowed and fisted our hands across our chests. Michel had let go of mine to allow the movement, but as soon as we stood upright after a suitable period of time, his hand clasped mine again. Amun noticed, his eyes flashing cinnamon and copper as he took in Michel's possessive hold of my hand.

"Welcome," he said after a brief pause. "It is a delight to have you in my home."

Quite a charming greeting and again I was surprised. Amun had not been happy with me yesterday and now he was gushing? I managed to keep the surprise off my face, my neutral mask well in place.

Michel was the one to reply. "It is an honour to be invited to share a meal with you, Master of the City."

"Yes," Amun drawled. "It is." Now that was more familiar. Here was the God-like complex - his right of worship emerging and our awe of him expected.

"Come, let us be seated." Amun glided over to the table and took the seat at the head. He indicated I should sit on his right hand side and Michel on his left.

Michel hesitated, unhappy with being separated from my side, but it was only briefly, the politician taking over as he slid into the offered seat. Our vampires were separated from each other as well, with Amun's entourage sitting between each. In the end the entire table was full. I was the only human - or half-human - present and acutely aware that my dining requirements would not match theirs.

I also had enormous difficulties watching Michel feed from anyone else. Lately of course, he'd had to, but he had always carried this out when I was not around to see. It was something that existed in the back of both our minds, but neither referred to it. It was painful for us both, I think. This
meal
was not going to be easy, but we could not let Amun know. It was a weakness that would get exploited if any were made aware.

Once everyone was seated, drinks were served. Red wine in tall stemmed glasses. I was desperate to take a sip, but found myself just twisting the glass between my fingers, watching the lights of the room reflect off the dark liquid inside. Michel's eyes met mine over the top of his glass. He'd noticed I wasn't drinking, but he didn't show a response to that at all.

"Are you enjoying my city?" Amun asked Michel. I was glad his attention wasn't on me, I was having trouble settling my mind.

"It has been a long time since I have spent a lengthy period in this land," Michel stated between sips of his wine. "I have been pleasantly surprised by how well suited it is to my needs."

This was news to me. Michel had always disliked London, only maintaining a residence here out of convenience and necessity. Business dealings had often brought him back, but for short visits only. That was why his house was reminiscent of the past. He lacked the impetus to modernise, determined to only briefly stay. Things had changed and the need to be near the
Iunctio
in Paris meant we had moved here - permanently it would seem.

I wondered if my inability to assimilate into London life had been influenced by Michel's dislike of the place.

"Your interests have brought you here to stay, have they not?" Amun asked.

"Yes, we intend to make London our home," Michel replied, then added, "With your blessing of course."

"Of course," Amun murmured, nodding his head slowly in agreement.

If this was how the dinner conversation was going to progress I would require more than the alcohol in my hand to get me through. Not that I was drinking it, but I certainly needed to pay attention, it was too easy to let my mind wander. Onto things like; is this what Michel has to suffer at all those meetings he must attend? Inane conversation of an obsequious nature? How utterly boring and useless.

I could be out hunting. I could be placating Arthur and ensuring my Nosferatin boss wasn't going to kick me out any time soon. Hell, I could be finding the
Nathair-Sgiathach
and getting a little background information on how dragons behave when their mates are pregnant. Or I could be tracking down Lutin and shoving a knife right through his heart. Any of these options were more appealing than talking vapid platitudes to an attention seeking vamp. Even if the vamp reminded me of Nero.

"And you, Lucinda? How are you finding my fair city?"

Oh crap, now what to say? "It's... um.. big. I mean... there's lots to see. Entertaining," I said with a nod. Yeah that would do. I glanced up and saw Michel frowning at me. He was not impressed with my conversation skills. I could hardly blame him. I decided I needed to try better, after all I had agreed to give London a go.

"How are you finding it, Master of the City? It is quite different from Cairo." I thought that was a reasonable question, but the atmosphere at the table suddenly chilled.

Amun's
Sanguis Vitam
pulsed beside me. He was angry, but I couldn't think why. I chanced a glance at him and was met with copper and bronze in his eyes. Swirls of colour indicating a reaction, coupled with his prickling
Sanguis Vitam
, left me in little doubt that the emotions included rage. My scalp itched at the memory of the last time I pissed him off. I hoped he wouldn't go for my hair again, I wasn't sure if I wouldn't fight back.

We stared at each other for several seconds, I knew I was meant to back down. Lower my gaze, my head, anything, to indicate he was in the position of power - not me. I finally found an appropriate reaction, and slowly looked away. My eyes automatically seeking Michel's, but finding no solace there.

Silence stretched on for quite some time; uncomfortable and thick. I took a sip of my drink for something to do and felt my stomach lurch as soon as the liquid hit. With an embarrassing shaking hand I placed the glass on the table before me. Michel shifted opposite, his own
Sanguis Vitam
coming out to soothe my nerves. It was a risk, to show any of his power before Amun, but I was thinking it was a reaction to my hands shaking, an automatic response to calm me down. Part of me wondered if it was his vampire-within acting and not the politician I knew so well.

"Interesting," Amun muttered, breaking the silence at last. "You are very caring of your Nosferatin, Councillor."

I looked up to see Michel's response to that statement, but his mask was back in place. He took a slow sip of his wine and said softly, "I find with Lucinda a gentle hand works best."

Amun laughed in response - a hearty sound full of genuine delight - while I fought not to show my anger at Michel's words. He wouldn't look at me, just continued to drink his wine slowly, his eyes all for the Egyptian.

"Well," Amun said jovially. "You provide entertainment, much to my enjoyment." I felt empty at his response. How could Michel belittle me so? "What else will you provide for me, Councillor?" Amun asked in a low voice.

Michel leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table in an appearance of casual and comfortable ease. "I am at your service, Master. Whatever I can provide is yours."

I couldn't stop the rise of my eyebrows at that. Vampires rarely say anything they do not mean. Words to the Nosferatu are sacred. If they do not believe something, they will not speak of it at all. Perception is everything. Michel was giving a clear signal that he'd use his position to keep Amun pleased. I was mortified. Yet again Michel had chosen not to warn me of his intentions and yet again I was caught off guard in a dangerous position.

I was equally as angry with
what
he was saying and with the fact he hadn't told me this was his plan at all. Why did he insist on not communicating with me? My anger rose to dangerous levels, my hold on my Light was fragile as a response. I was already at the edge of my ability to maintain a façade, and now this.

Michel's eyes shot to mine, concern momentarily fluttering across his face, to be replaced with the master politician's mask. But he didn't look away, he held my gaze for a couple of seconds and then returned his attention to Amun.

Amun hadn't missed the exchange. He was a Master Vampire in his own right. Powerful as Amisi had said. His reasons for standing down in Cairo were not known, but he'd been strong enough to hold off opposition to the Master of the City role here in London. A place where competition for such a spot would have been tight. So it didn't surprise me that he was cataloguing our every move, which only meant I was making more of a fool of myself yet again.

"I do believe your Nosferatin requires some calming, Michel," Amun said in a light voice, amusement evident on his face. "Is she always this difficult to control?"

"A challenge to be sure, Master, but an enjoyable one." Michel took another sip of his wine and then added, "I have her well in hand, you can be sure she will come to heel if required."

I shifted in my seat, an automatic retort already on my tongue.
Lucinda!
Michel's voice in my head was demanding. No room for misinterpretation. I'd been given my final warning to behave.

I was saved from deciding on a reaction, still tending towards the witty retort, when
dinner
was served. I'd attended vampire dinners before. Not at one had I been offered any food. It appeared the same was on offer tonight. A trail of scantily clad humans entered the room. One after the other, with their heads hanging low, white material draped strategically over their smooth, unblemished flesh. They followed the leader, a young man of perhaps twenty or so, as he climbed upon the white table and proceeded to crawl around the edge. Within reaching distance of each vampire in attendance. Their necks on display, their hair all cut short.

My stomach roiled, nausea seemed a close friend right now, which only made me feel more and more unsure. Was it nausea due to my needing to reinforce my joining? Or was it due to a baby growing inside? Once again confusion prevailed - my number one emotion, as desire waged a battle with fear inside my gut.

I kept my head down, staring at my lap and willing the tears and my stomach to behave. I should be used to this by now. I have lived among vampires for too long. But right now, when I felt so raw, so out of kilter, it was hard. It was hard to accept the world I had married into. It was hard to think of the world of innocence I had left behind. I tried to pull my Light around me, to shield myself from what was happening in the room. I could no longer hear the conversation and although I could see the odd human being pulled off the table into a waiting vampire's lap from the edge of my sight, I refused to acknowledge what it was that I witnessed at all.

Instead I whispered words of prayers in my mind, silent appeals to my Goddess, mantras to keep me strong. I am the
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
,
the Prohibitum Bibere
and
the Lux Lucis Tribuo
. I am stronger, more powerful than any vampire in this room. It wasn't always that way. When Michel and I were joined, he far surpassed me and even now, he would be on par. Part of me longed for those days where he was stronger. In my mind that's exactly where he should be. But I had proven again and again how strong the Light could be. I had destroyed city blocks, I had shielded against the might of the fairies from magical
Álfheimr
. I can balance the Dark in a vampire with my Light. I can break a master's blood bond with one of their line. If I allowed myself, I could quite easily be entwined with the Dark - give it ingress into my soul.