Entwined With the Dark (3 page)

"Who are you?" I asked, fingering my stake. Stakes probably wouldn’t leave much more than a scratch on a shifter of his physique, but the silver would hurt. I could have pocketed the stake and drawn my Svante sword, but I was going with substance over size. Shape shifters don't much like silver.

"Now, I thought that might be my question, lass. You are new around here. I think I'd like to know why."

I hadn't yet introduced myself to the Master Vampire of London City. An oversight to be sure. Michel had already made himself known, but I had found excuse after excuse not to meet the guy. Quite frankly, I'd had enough of Masters of the City. Michel used to be one and I was still a little bitter he no longer was. Still, the Master of London City might use a shape shifter to force my hand. I looked this guy up and down and wondered if he fitted the stereotype of a gopher. He didn't have that middle management look. Someone who followed orders. My guess: he was more of an Alpha and not related to the Master of London City at all.

Still, you never know what favours a master vampire might call upon. This shifter could be just paying back a debt.

"Do you belong to the Master of London?" I chose my words carefully. If he was an Alpha,
belonging
to anyone would be a big fat no-no.

His eyes flashed a beautiful electric blue and a strange, low sound came from the back of his throat. I couldn't identify it. It wasn't exactly a growl like I had heard Taniwhas back home in New Zealand make. But it gave me the impression he was angry with my question. So, Alpha then, not lackey. Good to know.

"I guess not," I said quietly, my eyes locked on his.

I knew I was smirking slightly, his response had amused me. It's not that I'm suicidal, I just have seen so much crap in my life, that another scary monster was nothing new. He was obviously fast and maybe capable of disappearing in thin air. I certainly hadn't seen him move before I banged into him earlier, and even when I had started looking for him, I still didn't pick up a thing. But so far, he had not struck out. To delay attacking could only mean one thing. He was toying with me.

Well, two could play at that game.

I rolled my stake in my hand, letting the moon that filtered spasmodically through the dirty windows catch the silver and shine up into his eyes.

"Nice night out," I said conversationally, as he seemed to have decided to clam right up. "Full moon too."

He snarled, flashing those pearly whites.

"So, what are you?" I asked, as though speaking to myself. I leaned forward slightly and took a deep breath in through my nose. Moss, peat and the smells of a forest met my nose.

It would be easy to deduce this guy lived in amongst trees, spent a lot of time on the ground, but there was something about how he had moved earlier that made me think he was not a slow ground dwelling shifter when in his alternate form. Just what the hell was he?

"Shifter," I said, softly, still talking as though to myself. "Lives amongst trees, but not necessarily on the ground. Bird? Squirrel?" I couldn't hide the smile at that one. This guy was not going to be a small creature once he changed shape. "What's native to Scotland?" I asked, he just watched me with mild amusement.

I couldn't think of an answer. I hadn't done my homework yet. England, or the British Isles, were still new territory for me and although Michel had provided several books on supernaturals commonly found in Britain - our new home - I had been remarkably slack. I hadn't read one. I was feeling my lackadaisical approach at the moment was about to bite me in the arse.

It's just that things had been so hectic and emotionally draining recently, I just wanted to sit back and be thankful for what I had. Including Michel being with me again. And although he seemed to be travelling more than ever lately, I was still floating on cloud nine that he was alive and well. So, homework had not featured on my evening pursuits lately. Bugger.

I was at a disadvantage here, but at least the guy in front of me didn't know
who
I was either, despite probably knowing
what
I was.

Time for a different approach.

"Why did you help the rogue escape?" I asked, adopting a relaxed pose.
See, I'm no threat, you better not be too.

"You were too cocky, I wanted to see if you could adapt to changing circumstances. Clearly not."

I bristled. I'd like to see him try to fight an invisible brick wall and make headway.

"So you just let him go off into the night to feed off more innocents?" I asked with derision. "Their deaths will be on your head. Can you live with that?"

He shrugged again, displaying a nice set of upper body muscles through the thin black T-shirt he wore. "Not my problem," he said, casually.

"What if I make it your problem?" I asked, getting a bit pissed off with his don't-care attitude.

"Is that a threat, Nosferatin? I would not make a good enemy, you should beware."

This guy was really beginning to get on my nerves, besides I was starting to get frantic about Marie. Where the hell was she? Why hadn't she come to find me yet? Was she OK? Stuff the rogue, I'd track him down with a concerted effort later. Sure a Norm may get caught in the crossfire, but it was not entirely my fault. OK, I may have been a little cocky about the whole hunt tonight, but I sure as hell didn't need tall, sandy and handsome rubbing it in.

I gathered my Light - let a little of it shine out around me in warning just to see what he would do - and then prepared to blast him with a little
Lux Lucis Tribuo
magic. Just as I released the ball of energy directly at his broad chest, he disappeared. The Light lit up the dirty factory floor, bounced around the windows making prisms of colours criss-cross all over the place and generally providing a decent light show, one worthy of a West End production. Of course, it wouldn't have done much to him, he's a shifter, not a vamp or Nosferatin. Or freakin' Light-filled fairy. Don't even get me started on those. He would only feel a sense of warmth, a mild erotic wash of lust and desire, but nothing he couldn't shrug off with ease. My Light is not designed for shape shifters. Unfortunately.

I spun on my heel and there he was, watching me, a huge smile across his face.

"Well, well, well, lass. You are special, aren't you?"

I didn't know how to answer that, his disappearing act was pretty special too. I hadn't come across a shifter who could do that with such ease. Rick, my once upon a time best friend, had managed to use magic to hide his escape once, but not this seamless disappearance act, that was for sure. The only creatures able to do that were fairies, as far as I knew. Although, Michel could move fast enough to
look
like he was gone. Maybe, that was what this guy was doing too.

Still, this was unusual and I was definitely not comfortable with remaining here, but how to back away without getting confrontational or looking like I was afraid? I stood stock still and waited for him to make a move. Sometimes doing nothing at all is the wisest course of action. Just as I thought we would stand there for eternity eye-balling each other warily, a noise in the stairwell caught my ears. A shuffle, a scuff and then the none-too-delicate footsteps of my Nosferatin hunting partner, Marie. Thank the goddess for her inability to walk in stealth mode. The sense of relief at hearing her approach almost made me turn towards her. But the hunter in me made me hold my place and then hold the gaze of the dangerous creature before my eyes.

She stomped into the room we were in and made it several feet before she noticed that I was standing so still. How many times have I told her to check her environment first? This girl would be the death of me, I was sure.

"Marie," I said in way of greeting, not taking my eyes off Sandy Disappearing Act. "We have a guest."

She walked the last few steps to stand at my side. She might be a scaredy-cat, but she was loyal. I'd give her that.

"Oh," she said, obviously picking up on the shifter at last. "Hello, Sebastian," she whispered and then blushed.

I glanced at her cheeks and then quickly back at
Sebastian
. His eyes had target locked on her small frame and a possessive hunger had taken up residence inside. Well, I'll be.

"You know him?" I asked the obvious.

She nodded and flamed even redder, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Marie," Sebastian drawled in his Scottish accent. "A pleasure as always,
leannan
."

She reddened further, unbelievably. I waited for introductions, none came.

"So, Sebastian," I started. "Shifter Sebastian." Then to Marie. "What is he?"

She cleared her throat. "He's a
Nathair-Sgiathach
. A dragon shifter. He's the... ah... the
Ceannard
. Their leader here in London."

Definitely an Alpha then. And not just any old Alpha, but the top dog, or dragon, here in the city. Not only had I pissed off the Master Vampire of London City by not announcing myself sooner, but now I had made an indelible impression on the local shape shifter Alpha as well.

Could my assimilation into my new English home go any worse? I doubted it, I really did.

I offered a smile to the
Nathair-Sgiathach
and made a mental note to scour those books Michel had left beside our bed. What did I know about dragons? They could fly, breathe fire out of their noses, have scales and wicked long claws. But that was about it. Oh, and Michel's vampire-within, appeared as a dragon to me. I wondered if this shifter looked anything like the tall, omnipresent green scaled monster who accompanied me on my Dream Walks. Michel's dragon-within had always scared me, he was the power, the
Sanguis Vitam
, that made up Michel. For many months I wasn't sure what he thought of me, but recently he had claimed me as his vampire mate. The dragon and I had spent a lot of time together since then and surprisingly he had a sense of humour. I was beginning to wonder if that was a dragon thing, not just specific to Michel's dragon-within. Sebastian looked like he'd been having fun with me this evening, in any case.

"So, now you know who I am, lass, it is only fitting I know who you are, is it not?" Sebastian asked, with a look that said quite clearly that he had known all along that I'd have to answer the damn question eventually.

I went to open my mouth, to hedge my answer to some degree - it never pays to give too much away to a supernatural - when Marie beat me to it.

"This is Lucinda Monk, Sebastian. The
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
."

Oh, bloody hell, Marie. Ever heard of too much information?

Sebastian's face stilled, he inhaled deeply for the first time. It was unusual he hadn't sniffed my scent before. Most shifters would have been scenting me as soon as they entered the building.
Clearly this was his first attempt to single out my signature scent. What would he smell? Candied apples and sunshine, honey and Spring. Nothing too flash, just all me. He'd catalogue it, file it, remember it for future use. He'd recognise me if he crossed my path again, he'd be able to identify me simply by my scent. But that would be it.

I waited as his chest deflated and his stunning electric blue eyes met mine. There was recognition there, a wariness and - if I had to hazard a guess - respect. Huh.

"The vampyre-dragon's mate," he said in a strangely guttural voice. Raspy, low, a little bit scary to be honest. "Welcome to my
dùthaich
, little cousin."

Cousin? Oh no, this could not be a good thing, could it?

Somehow I was guessing probably not.

"Do you know the legend of St. George and the Dragon?" Marie asked, as she navigated a particularly busy intersection in her VW Golf.

Surprisingly, Sebastian had just let us go after that little round of introductions. I was sure I now featured on his radar - whatever his radar was set to detect - but I wasn't sure exactly what that would mean for me. He'd been friendly to Marie, well more than that, he'd practically drooled over her. But me? Not so much. And all that talk of cousins was a little unnerving. I wasn't sure where I stood in relation to the dragon shifter, but I knew it wouldn't be the last time I saw him. I didn't have that kind of luck.

"Um, he's the patron saint of England, isn't he?" I answered, holding onto the door frame with one hand as Marie barrelled through an incredibly tight gap. I was determined to learn my way around these chaotic city streets and drive myself as soon as I was able. Of course, I'd need a car for that. Mine had been left in New Zealand. Samson now drove my BMW Series 1 Convertible. I missed the car almost as much as I missed him.

"The adopted patron saint," she replied, glancing over towards me, but thankfully returning her attention to the road. "St. George was not English. He was a Roman soldier from the province of
Syria Palaestina
, but in the middle ages we adopted him as our patron saint. He was recognised as an accomplished warrior, it made sense to have a warrior represent England back then."

She braked hard for a red light, making my body rocket forward in my seat and the seatbelt groan under the G-Force of the movement. Her car was old, really old. I was surprised it was road worthy at all. But Marie's driving made the whole episode firmly in the area of life-on-the-line, as opposed to just dangerous. She tapped her finger against the steering wheel as she waited impatiently for the light to turn. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. It wasn't
that
much further to Michel's house.

"Anyway, the legend of Saint George and the Dragon took place in
Silene,
some time in the thirteenth century. The town had a pond, or lake, where the Dragon dwelt. It was feared he brought the plague and in order to appease the Dragon, the town's people sacrificed two sheep a day to him. And when the sheep failed, they fed their children, chosen by lottery." I cringed. Not exactly a pleasant bedtime story this one. Marie went on, unaffected by my grimace. "The King's daughter was called forth in the lottery and the King distraught at the thought of losing her, told the people they could have all of his gold and riches if they spared his daughter. They refused. The daughter was sent out to the lake and fed to the Dragon."

I was hoping there would be a happy ending to this story and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why Marie was going to such trouble to explain it to me. It was interesting, sure, and  legends can have their origins rooted in history sometimes, but still. The light turned green and Marie hit the accelerator as though her life depended on it. The door handle became my best friend.

"St. George happened to be riding past the lake, when the Dragon became incensed at his interruption to his meal and reared back to attack. St. George charged on his horse and pierced the Dragon with his lance. He then used the princess's girdle to trap the Dragon and both he and the girl led the now docile dragon back to the town.

"The people were terrified, but St. George promised them, if they all converted to Christianity, he would slay the Dragon. Of course they did and the Dragon was slayed."

OK, kind of a happy ending, if you weren't the dragon. "What's this got to do with Sebastian?" I asked, still totally dumbfounded.

"The Dragon was his grandfather," Marie replied, pulling up outside Michel's house in South Kensington.

I turned in my seat and stared at the little, demure woman sitting next to me. Marie looked like any girl next door. Sweet and innocent, short brown, no-nonsense hair, hazel eyes and of medium height and slim build. Her uniform was always jeans, sweatshirt and tennis shoes. Comfort was her goal, not fashion. Even now, with just the two of us in her ratty old car, she still tried to hide, blend in to the surroundings. Her clothes were just as dishevelled as the car. Marie was recently joined to a  wealthy master vampire, but determined not to take a penny. It was definitely something I admired about the angst ridden hunter. I hadn't met Kenneth yet, but he ran an antiques business, one which was quite successful from all accounts.

"Wow! Sebastian must be old." It was all I could think of to say.

Marie sighed. "He is. He's also very powerful and has never forgotten what St. George did. When St. George was chosen as the patron saint of England, Sebastian brought his
Teaghlach
, his pack, here. He chose Scotland and entrenched the family in Scottish life. They gave up all that was their past and embraced their new land. Arthur thinks Sebastian is biding his time to seek revenge."

"Revenge? On whom? St. George doesn't actually exist."

"To the English, he does and always will. Arthur thinks Sebastian will take his vengeance out on us."

"And how long has he been here? Don't you think he would have done this by now if it was his plan. He probably just wanted to make a new start in life, forget the pain of his past. You know, green pastures and all that," I offered.

Marie let a little huff of a laugh out. "Yeah, that's pretty much what I think too. He's not all bad, Sebastian that is. Arthur has made me the liaison to the local shifter
Teaghlach
. I have a lot to do with them. With him." She looked down at her hands in her lap, another small blush gracing her cheeks.

"He seems to like you," I said, smiling. She reddened further.

"He's a tease. He knows I'm not good with that kind of attention. He plays a game to make me imbalanced."

I sat silently for a moment and glanced out the window. I wanted to offer some sort of encouragement, bolster Marie up by telling her she could be anything she wanted, if she just believed. But my attention was taken by the fact that Michel's car was missing. It had been there when I left for the hunt, parked outside the tall, pale Victorian building. But now there was a conspicuous gap on the side of the road, the black Range Rover gone.

I felt my heart weigh down with the knowledge of what could call him away at such short notice. And the fact that it seemed that he hadn't even been able to send a thought out to let me know.

I turned back to Marie. "You wanna come in for a coffee?" I asked, it seemed like the right thing to do and Michel's absence, although painful, was not something new.

She smiled, the most beautiful smile. It transformed her mousy demeanour into something entirely different. No, I didn't for a moment think Sebastian was playing a game. Well, at least, not the sort of game Marie thought. The man would be blind not to see what lurked beneath the baggy clothes and hunched shoulders. I had been, but the more time I spent with Marie, the more I realised that her appearance was quite deceptive. Maybe we could use that to our advantage. Something to investigate further at our next training session.

"Thanks, Luce, but Kenneth needs me to help out at the store. It's the only time we can work together, in the middle of the night. He has big plans for the business. He gets so excited when he talks about them, it makes me laugh."

I smiled at her enthusiasm. Kenneth, although her kindred, was not her lover. Their relationship was one of platonic love. She teased him like the big brother he appeared to be. Their conversations over the phone humorous, light-hearted, fun. I was actually looking forward to meeting him. He sounded like quite a card.

"Well, have fun," I said, looking up at the front door to Michel's very foreboding London residence. "Catch you tomorrow then?"

She nodded and I exited the car. Waving her goodbye, I stood silently on the pavement in front of Michel's house. South Kensington is a nice neighbourhood. Lots of Victorian houses; big, elaborate and well maintained. But, then there's Michel's house. I glanced at the row of houses either side. They all looked the same from the outside, pale brick façades with a lovely white trim. Four stories above ground with a fifth below. Although Michel's has even more than that. The entranceways all match too, large white columns guarding the front path, faux colonnaded balconies above. It's all quite quaint. The only differences are the colours of the doors. Michel's is black. But I knew each interior of the neighbours' houses were not in the same category as Michel's. It's not as though Michel wants to live in a dark and dreary Gothic monstrosity. He's just not been that fond of London and never been here long enough to care.

Christopher, the vampire who looks after the place when Michel's not in residence, doesn't give two hoots about appearances. A house is a house to him. But both Michel and Christopher had been quietly suggesting I plan a renovation, lighten up the place and make it feel more like home. Unfortunately, nothing about London felt like home. I hated the cold weather. The too often mist and rain. I disliked my new hunting rules, teamwork - blah! I shuddered at the interior of Michel's house.

I hung my head and took a deep breath in, bracing for the oppressive décor within. I had to start making an effort to fit in, to accept. But it was hard. I missed Auckland. I missed Samson. I missed home.

I squared my shoulders and walked up to the front door. At least Christopher would have the fireplace burning brightly. It was the one redeeming feature to the whole house and I was definitely making sure any potential renovation didn't get rid of that.

The smell of coffee and apple pie greeted me as I closed the door. Soft voices could be heard in the front room. None of them were Michel's. I threw my keys on the hall table and headed for the quiet conversation. The fire crackled in the background and the smell of coffee and pie was stronger here. And I could see why. It wasn't vampires talking, but humans. Michel's close human friends; Matthew and Kathleen.

"Hey!" I said, surprised to see them, a smile spreading across my face. Kathleen was up and wrapping me in an embrace as soon as she saw me. Matthew just smiled broadly and held up his coffee mug in way of greeting. "What are you guys doing here?"

"The Master has asked for our help," Kathleen said, as she let me go. She held me at arms' length and took in my hunting attire. The usual, short black mini skirt, black fitted tee and jacket, black tights and boots. I liked black, it kind of matched my current mood.

"Help?" I asked, dumbly. He hadn't mentioned he wanted their help. I thought they were still back in Taupo, looking after Michel's holiday home there. It's where I'd like to be. "He shouldn't have called you away from your home," I said stiffly, taking a seat on the couch.

Kathleen shot a look at Matthew, but I couldn't make out what it meant. Concern? When she returned her attention to me - sitting down next to me on the couch - her face was soft, full of compassion. "Taupo is no longer our home, Lucinda."

"What?" I exclaimed. How could he? How could he make them move from that idyllic spot? Sometimes his thoughtlessness astounded me. Kathleen and Matthew had looked after that home for over twenty years. It was his haven, his retreat when the world got too Dark. Light and airy, with a view to die for, it was heaven on earth. I loved it and I knew the older couple did too.

Kathleen ignored my outburst and poured a fresh mug of coffee, adding milk from a jug off the tray, a spoonful of sugar and then stirring it all, slowly, patiently, as though she was letting my exclamation sink in - or fade away. Finally she handed me the cup and turned to slice a piece of apple pie, adding some whipped cream on the side and handing me the bowl. "Eat, child," she said simply and then started sipping on her own coffee quietly.

I glared at her for a moment, how could she be so calm? She and her husband had just been turfed out of their home and ordered here. To London. Nothing like lakeside Taupo. How could she be OK with this? And then it hit me. Kathleen and Matthew were Michel's human servants. They called him Master, they followed his every word like an acolyte. They would do whatever he demanded without a second thought. It astounded me that humans could be so involved in a vampire's world. But vampires relied on human servants, trusted and discreet. I had often wondered what Michel did to ensure Kathleen and Matthew's service. Had he glazed them? Used some form of magic to keep them in line? Made them sign a non-disclosure contract? They showed no signs of being glazed and as for magic, I couldn't really tell. But it didn't seem Michel's style. Still, it had puzzled me in the past.

When nobody said anything, my hunger got the better of me and I took a bite of pie. It melted on my lips, still slightly warm from the oven, cinnamon zinging off my taste buds, the cream making it slide a decadent path down my throat.

"Did you make this?" I asked, through a second mouthful. "It's awesome!"

Kathleen laughed. "No, we have only just arrived. This is Christopher’s masterpiece." Man, that vampire never did cease to amaze. Why had Michel chosen to hide him here?

Then something occurred to me. "Did Christopher know you were arriving?"

Kathleen met my eyes, she'd no doubt picked up on the tone of my voice. Was I the only one not to know they were homeless? "Yes, he was expecting us." She sighed loudly when she saw the reaction on my face. "Lucinda," she chastised in her soft Kent accent. "Michel has asked us here to find you a holiday home nearby. It was supposed to be a surprise, but considering your response this evening, I am risking the Master's wrath to put you straight, young lady. We will not be homeless for long, we will be setting up a holiday home for you and the Master when needed. He wanted you to have a place to run to, should London become too much."