Entwined With the Dark (19 page)

"I do, do I?' he asked, unamused.

"All I'm asking is you give me a little leeway to do my job. My Prophesied job. Right now I need to be in London to do that."

"Why? Why 'ere and not somewhere else?"

His insistence that I should leave was disturbing and then something occurred to me. Perhaps Arthur was a little like Amun. Not the attention seeking side, but the reassurance seeking side. Needing to know I wasn't a threat. I had no intention of taking over and turfing him out. Michel had known instinctively that was what Amun needed to hear. Maybe I could take a leaf out of his book.

"Arthur," I started, taking a step forward and sitting down on the sofa opposite him. "I don't want to be in London any longer than I have to. I don't know how long that will be, but a part of me prays that it won't be forever. You're right, London is not for me. I don't feel at home here. I haven't identified with the place. It just isn't my cup of tea." Maybe if I used English phrases this would go a bit better. "Michel and I need to be near Paris, you know this. But also far enough away to remain out of the Champion's cross-hairs." Although that theory was all being shot to hell right now. "I promise I will do my level best to participate with your team, to carry my weight and to work alongside them. I promise I will follow your instructions, as long I as believe them to be sound. I say these words with the weight of my Nosferatin ancestors behind me. I say these words as a kindred to a Nosferatu."

I would have preferred to have made these promises with Michel as my kindred, but the fact that I was a kindred to a Nosferatu at all would be enough. Words to vampires mean something, much more than words to a Norm or a shifter would. As a kindred Nosferatin I was pledging myself with Nosferatu words. If Arthur didn't go for this, then there was no way at all of convincing him I meant him no harm.

He sat very still for a moment and then I watched as his shoulders began to slowly relax. Bit by bit his body released tension, until finally the Nosferatin I had first got to know sat before me. I let out a breath of air quietly in relief.

"You really don't intend on stayin'?" he asked, in his rough, cockney twang.

I shook my head. "Goddess willing we'll find somewhere else to live, somewhere where we both feel at home. I have no idea where. I can't even decide on a holiday location right now. But I can't believe we will live the rest of our lives here. Both Michel and I hate the place," I admitted with a small apologetic smile.

He barked out a laugh in return and slapped his hands together. "All righ' then, Luce. As long as you play nice with my guys, we'll work it out."

I gave him a genuine smile in response, noticing my vampires all relax slightly at my sides.
They'd been hiding their
Sanguis Vitam
well, even I hadn't been aware of the tension in their bodies until now.

I looked up at Marie, who was smiling brightly at the outcome. As soon as she noticed me watching her, the smile fell. Here goes nothing.

"Marie, it's all right. Lutin believes I'm pregnant because of the
kvángask
and a stupid Fey Prophesy that has nothing to do with me at all. It took me a while to work that out." At least I hoped the Prophesy had nothing to do with me, the fact it was on the same page as the others in Arthur's book, was still haunting my nightmares right now. "I am not pregnant, he is delusional and wrong. As for the dragon-shifters," my gaze returned to Arthur, "I have no idea why they would think that."

"Sebastian believes it," Marie answered, but I still held Arthur’s gaze.

"Your vampire," he said, I just frowned back at him not understanding at all. "He was behavin' like a dragon-shifter whose mate is expectin' a child. Sebastian recognised the possessive and over-protective symptoms and asked Marie what was what."

Oh. "And what did Marie tell him?" I asked, turning slowly to look her in the eye. This was it. If Marie divulged something she shouldn't have, my trust in her was gone. How could I fight alongside someone I didn't trust? Ironic really, that's exactly how Arthur had felt about me.

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Good girl, I thought, but kept my face blank. "I told him he was mental. Nosferatins can't have kids."

I smiled at her and started laughing. Arthur joined in after a few seconds and finally Marie began to grin. The vampires at my back just shifted uneasily, I was thinking they were unsure if joining us in our revelry would be wise, in light of Arthur barely tolerating them being in the room at all.

With the nerve wracking part of the meeting over, Arthur broke out a bottle of gin. I'm not much of a gin drinker, but could manage a splash with copious amounts of lemonade at a pinch. We sat around catching up on the latest problems, including my imminent summons to the
Palais
.

"I don't know what to say," Arthur stated after I had brought him up to date. "I have never met the Champion, I don't intend to neither." He took a sip of his drink and stared at me. "What do you need from us?"

I held his gaze and saw the conviction there. It wasn't an empty offer. Just as I had suspected, Arthur Pencarrow would have my back, should the need arise.

"I don't know what you can do, Arthur. But if I need to, can I ask for your help then?"

"Absolutely," he said quietly. "You are Nut's emissary. You hold the Dark dear." Then he let a little huff out of his nose and added, "You are God-awful at participating in a team, but you're the best hunter I know." Then more seriously, his face a stark mask, "I dread to think what would happen if the Champion succeeds in snuffing you out. It is not an option, we cannot allow it. I'll get on-line and let the others know. I'll warn the guys in Paris to be available should you call. If it comes to it, Luce. We will fight them. Just because they are the
Iunctio
does not mean they are right."

So similar to what Nataliya had said. The
Iunctio
had begun to act out of line. The path they had chosen was too Dark, and even though sometimes it felt like my battle was a personal one - between the Champion and myself alone - didn't mean that others wouldn't want to fight for what was right. To fight to balance the Dark with the Light.

I wondered briefly, as we finished our drinks in a much more companionable mood, whether the Dark path Michel and I may have to tread would result in something similar to what it has for the
Iunctio
. Nut had said that
Dark and Light are intertwined, never to be parted. Dark will call to our kind, Light has already started.
I tried to think of a way that could be applied to what was happening and to what could happen for Michel and me, but I just couldn't make sense of it at all.

It sounded like the Dark would win, would have the final say, and Light's time of calling was nearly over. It worried me and frightened me in equal measure.

Just
what
was Nut trying to tell me?

Michel was fighting for his life. I knew it. I could see it. I could almost feel his anger, fright and determination to win. The
mission
had been an ambush. Michel had been set up. And the only thing I could think, as I sat panting in the back seat of the Rover with Marcus and Nataliya alarmed at my side, was that the Champion had arranged it. She'd just shown me her best hand.

I willed him to win, to fight back, to not give up. I don't know how or why, but he kept the connection between us open. He kept his mind open to mine. Whether he had just forgotten it or not, I couldn't tell, but I made sure my witnessing what was transpiring was not evident in his mind. I watched silently, mutely, the only sound my ragged breathing in the car. Matthias had pulled us over to the side of the road, Sergei had already exited and stood on guard. The others remained with me. Nataliya for support, M&M out of outright fear for their master's life.

I could tell them nothing, too concerned with Michel realising I was present, watching what was unfolding in his mind. If he knew it could distract him, but there was no way in hell I could have withdrawn and cut the ties. I watched in helpless horror as he fought three vampires, with only one sword.

They were swift, precise, good at what they were doing. They had obviously fought together before, because their moves were synchronised, fluid, the perfect team at work. No orders were given, no encouragement said aloud. If they were communicating, it was telepathically. The only sound in Michel's head, was the clang of steel on steel and the pants of exertion from both sides.

Michel was brilliant, dancing like the dragon in my dreams, flying through the air combating his opponents, one after the other, and in some cases a pair at once. I noticed he had a dagger in his left hand which I hadn't seen before, the sword in his right. The sword was adequate for protection, keeping the sharp blades of the vampires who attacked from slicing his flesh, and the dagger, surprisingly, was effective in landing painful blows.

He'd fend off a sword strike with his right hand and meet the challenge of another vampire with his left, the dagger sinking deep into the stomach or chest of the one who managed to get too close. But Michel was receiving blows too. Blood coated his white shirt, his jacket long lost. Sweat ran down his temples and neck, brilliant magenta the only colour in his eyes. His vampire-within participating as much as the man now.

I gasped whenever their blades struck, I half-screamed-half-whined when he faltered a step and was caught off guard. My heart soared when he landed another blow and momentarily disabled an opponent, only to whimper with fear when another took the fallen vampire's place. I had no comprehension of the passing of time, only the increasing onset of fatigue in Michel's reactions was indication that minutes had been flying by.

I had no idea at all if he could win this battle, I just knew that I had to bear witness to it until the end. As scared and petrified as I was, I would not let him face this alone. Even if I couldn't help him, having no idea where he actually was and how far away, I would be present during this fight - maybe his final, I didn't know.

He stumbled, losing his footing, a sword sliced through the skin on his back, followed by another slicing his chest. I knew it was nearing the end, I knew without a shadow of doubt that Michel was outnumbered. I momentarily thought that by keeping the mental connection open to me he had in fact compromised himself. Michel was the most powerful vampire I knew - aside from
her
- even fighting three level one
Sanguis Vitam
vampires at once should have been achievable. Difficult, but achievable. Yet here he was about to succumb.

I wanted to encourage him, I wanted to let him know how much I loved him and always would, but I couldn't think the words for fear of distracting him, still clinging to the hope that he would rally, that he
could
win. Tears coursed down my cheeks, racking sobs making my body shake. Matthias was on the phone to someone, I couldn't tell who, Marcus was swearing and praying under his breath at the same time. Nataliya, well she was crying too. I didn't know why, she seemed too tough for that, but seeing her tears when she looked at my face made me realise this was real. This
was
happening. This wasn't a dream.

No!
I screamed the word at Nut but heard nothing in reply. My voice in my head desperate and because the link to Michel was still open, he heard it too. He renewed his efforts, calling on something deep within and managed to get back up on his feet and land a blow, decapitating a vampire with astonishing speed. Taking everyone by surprise. The vampires battling, me and I think even him. But it still wasn't enough. They came at him doggedly, despite their dwindling numbers.

I braced myself for what was about to happen. There was no way to adequately prepare for watching your beloved die a second time in a sword fight.

Then there was a knock on the window to the car, Sergei's frantic words breaking through the numbness and horror settling in my mind. I fell away from Michel and looked up into the electric blue eyes of Sebastian Cole.

"Hello, lass," he said conversationally through the window. "How about you step out of the car?"

What the fuck? I didn't have time for the stalker dragon-shifter. My true kindred was about to meet the final death. I glared at him and tried to reconnect to Michel, I got a brief glimpse of him still holding his own against the remaining two vampires and then Sebastian's Scottish accent broke the connection again.

"The sooner you talk to me, the sooner your vampire will be safe."

Suddenly I was cringing from
Sanguis Vitam
and Sebastian was being held in a head lock in Marcus's arms. The
Nathair-Sgiathach
didn't offer up any resistance, but kept his piercing blue eyes on me.

"I am not the enemy, Lucinda," he said as I slowly, but purposefully got out of the car and drew my Svante sword, holding the tip against his throat, next to Marcus's arm.

"What do you want, Sebastian?" I asked and didn't even recognise my voice. Matthias was beside Marcus, ready to follow through if his partner was unable, Sergei and Nataliya were at my back. Tension hung in the air like a heavy fog, you could almost see it.

And all the while Michel fought for his life.

"In my pocket, right hand side," he said in a slightly strained voice, I would have preferred a little more stress. He wasn't taking this seriously, so I dug the tip of my sword into his flesh. He winced, blinked rapidly, but held my gaze.

"Matthias," I said, not removing my eyes from the shifter.

The big vampire reached into Sebastian's pocket, fumbled around a bit, making sure to whack Sebastian in the process, precariously close to his family jewels, and finally withdrew an envelope. Thick card-stock, usual vampire fare. But this time the red wax seal was different. This time it depicted the shape of a heart set inside an ornate crown. The Champion's seal.

"You mother fucker!" I said softly. "You're the spy."

He attempted to shrug his shoulders, but Marcus increased his hold cutting off his air and my sword scraped painfully across his neck, getting closer and closer to his carotid artery - which finally was pulsing at a rapid speed.

"I should kill you right now," I said, unsurprised my voice was low and threatening. "Arthur thought you were a sleeper cell, waiting to seek revenge on England. But your
hers
. She doesn't care about this country. She only cares about the Nosferatu." I dug the sword tip in a little harder. "So, tell me,
Nathair-Sgiathach
, just what is she doing for
you
?"

His eyes looked pained, and for a brief moment, full of fear. But I had the distinct impression it wasn't fear of me, or my sword tip, or my vampire still restricting his flow of air. It was for something the Champion held over him, I was sure. But I also saw determination, in those electric blue eyes. A determination not to tell me a thing. Why?

"Your vampire," he croaked out instead and I instantly fell back down the connection to Michel and saw he was still alive, barely keeping conscious, but fighting to the end. I blinked slowly, closing down the image and focused on the envelope in Matthias's hand.

Time was not on my side, for some reason Michel looked worse off than his opponents, yet they had received an equal amount of injuries by his hand, as he had by theirs. I grabbed the envelope and thrust a thumb under the seal, breaking it and revealing the folded parchment inside. Cursive script stared up at me as the envelope fell from my hands to the gutter below.

Sanguis Vitam Cupitor,

Two words to the Nathair-Sgiathach and

your beloved Michel shall live.

I wish I was there to hear you utter them,

to watch you bow down to my demands.

Alas, I shall have to wait for your attendance,

don't keep me waiting long.

The Champion of the Iunctio.

The Champion of the Nosferatu.

"What two words?" I asked numbly, still aware that Michel was holding his own, but only just. I knew now why the vampires who fought him, didn't just finish him off. They were waiting for my answer, but what was the question? And what would they do if I got it wrong?

Sebastian didn't answer me, Marcus had loosened his hold, so it wasn't because of that. Clearly the dragon-shifter's instructions hadn't been to help me out. I racked my brain for an answer to a question I didn't even have. The Champion obviously wanted me to travel to the
Palais
, this was the summons we had been expecting, but it was also more. What would the Champion want other than my attendance?

Your subjugation, ma douce
. Michel's voice was laboured, but it gave me hope that he had been able to concentrate on his current predicament and mine at the same time. There was no way he would have done that, if his situation was that dire. But he looked so ill, when I briefly allowed the connection to his mind free reign. Pale, gaunt, fatigued. The battle should have taken it out of him, but not to this degree.

There was more to the scene than I could tell, but I was beginning to understand. Through his mental link with my mind I felt his unease, his nausea rising, the weakness engulfing his body. And his inability to see clearly, the world rapidly becoming a hazy, wavering, darkening, shadow before his eyes. He was about to pass out and not just from the injuries, but from something more insidious. He'd been compromised all right, but not by me and his connection to my mind. I was thinking it had something to with the blades the vampires held. Perhaps coated with poison?

It was just the sort of underhand thing the Champion would employ.

And now she wanted an answer. Two words. My subjugation to her. What would convince her I am submissive enough to believe?

I lifted my eyes up to the bright blue of Sebastian's, a small amount of compassion and understanding laced the blue. Is this what she had done to him? Held the life of another over his head? Made him grovel and perform like a well trained puppy. The once proud
Ceannard,
the grandson to the dragon St. George had slain.

"She didn't need to do this," I said, not really saying the words to anyone other than myself. "I was prepared to come when summoned."

"She likes to play games, lass," Sebastian replied, then added, "You don't have much time. Say them."

I was aware of the importance of words to a vampire, but I knew
these
words needed to be convincing from my mouth too. Voicing them aloud would not be enough. I took one more look inside my mind to Michel, reassuring myself that he was still here with me, then casting a glance at Sergei for support, I went down on bended knee, fisted my hand across my chest, bowed my head and said them. Two words the Champion would believe.

"Yes, mistress," I said with as much conviction as I could muster, holding my position for longer than I would ever have bothered in the past.

My vampires stilled, aware of what this was costing me. I have a healthy respect for the Champion, she is unfathomably powerful. Who wouldn't respect that? But I have always had problems with authority figures, I have always refused to give an inch where it wasn't deserved. She ran the
Iunctio
with an iron fist of fear. Leaders need to be strong, but not necessarily cruel. She had proven again and again how far she would take things, to get her own way.

I understood her desire to uphold the Nosferatu mantra;
survival at all costs
. But I did not believe in her methods. Which made respecting her a difficult task. Whenever I greeted her it was always with the minimum amount of deference. Just enough not to cause a political scene. I had never in my entire time of knowing her, considered I'd utter these words and mean them.

Right now, I told myself she held all the cards, Michel's life was in her control. Because of that, and that alone, I respected this woman. Not as a worthy opponent, not as something or someone who stood equal with me - her Dark would never stand at my side - but as a being who could take the one thing in my life I would not survive losing again.